“Good to know before you get serious about someone else.”
I picked up his empty bottle and crossed to the recycling. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if your mother interfered with Katie, she might do it again. And if you find someone else, someone you want to be with, you don’t want your mother to cause problems.”
“Why do you keep saying ‘someone else’?”
Fitch threw his empty bottle into the recycling. “Don’t you want to have a girlfriend again? You’ve obviously blown it with Katie. And with the redhead.”
“I wasn’t serious about Madeline.” I frowned. “And she wasn’t serious about me. But I’m going to get Katie back, now that I know I made a mistake in high school.”
He turned around slowly. “I don’t think that’s on the table. Sounds like she’s still pissed at you, with good cause.”
“But that’s a good sign, right?”
He blinked at me. “You think it’s a good sign that she’s pissed at you?”
“Yeah. Because that means she didn’t forget me. And she’s still thinking about me.”
“That’s—well, that might be a good point.”
I nodded. I wasn’t a genius, but I wasn’t stupid either. Well, not always. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’m used to working hard. I didn’t get to play hockey by taking things easy. I’ll just have to work on getting Katie to love me again.”
“How do you think you’re going to do that?”
“I don’t know. But I did it once. I’ll just have to find a way to do it again.”
It would be harder this time. Katie was pissed at me, and she wasn’t my tutor so she didn’t have to spend time with me. Or maybe…no. No way I could convince her I needed study help now.
But I wasn’t the kid who hoped to make it to the NHL anymore. I was here. And in Toronto, where people loved hockey. I had money, and I had connections, and all the determination in the world. That should make up for everything else.
I was going to find out.
Chapter 4
Cool Was Not in My Wheelhouse
Katie
I woke up, light sliding into my room around the edges of my blinds. Memories of the night before flooded my brain. I cringed. How embarrassing. Josh. Fucking Josh.
How was I going to face Madeline again, after last night’s drama?
This condo had been an incredible score and I wanted to keep it. Originally, before I’d moved here, I found a couple of women to room with through an online site. That didn’t work. Turned out they were looking for a roommate because no one would stay with them.
One of the first people I made friends with at the University of Toronto was Andrea. She was a second year TA and was kind enough to take me under her wing. Andrea had been roommates with Madeline last year before moving in with her girlfriend. Madeline was a special auditor, worked for the federal tax department, and traveled across the country to work on cases. A lot of the time her condo was empty. She liked to have someone there to keep an eye on things and preferred grad students since they were past the partying stage.
Andrea had sent her a message on my behalf to see if she was looking for a roommate. Fortunately for me, she was. Madeline and I met at her condo to discuss rooming together. As soon as I walked in, I hoped we could make it work because the place was amazing. Not a student apartment, but a real home—expensive furnishings, security at the doors, and it was right downtown, making commuting a breeze.
We’d sat at her dining room table to discuss the details. She liked her place to be tidy. I did too, so that wasn’t an issue. She worked long hours, and didn’t need someone to chat with or plan her life with. She didn’t want to be set up with nice guys or told she worked too much. Just someone to keep the place occupied, keep on top of the garbage and take deliveries if needed.
I was tidy, didn’t want to get involved with anyone either, and would be happy to do a lot of my studying here, so there’d be someone around.
She cautioned me that she was likely to bring home her hookups, but they wouldn’t spend the night. I had no problem with that. And if it hadn’t been for Josh—fucking Josh—there would have been no problem ever.
I pulled on my housecoat, shoved my feet in my fuzzy slippers, and left my room quietly, aiming for the coffeepot. I didn’t want to talk about last night or remember it if possible. With any luck I could avoid Madeline until her next trip. And after that, hopefully enough time would have passed that this became a funny story.
Madeline was already up. Damn it. She was dressed in yoga wear that looked expensive, with her hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail. And was that makeup? On a Saturday morning when she wasn’t working? Life goals, right there. But not till I had coffee.
