The stunned silence that settles around me after Grant flees to his bedroom under the guise of being tired is deafening.
tiredI lift Hobbes from his sleepy spot by my feet and cuddle him to me. “You’ll keep me company, won’t you?” I murmur, pressing my face into his fuzzy little chest.
He looks at me and yawns.
Releasing a sigh, I set Hobbes down again.
Grant played it off well, but I could sense something was off from the moment I came inside tonight. He was strained and uncomfortable, and trying to put distance between us, like increasing our physical proximity would somehow quash the growing attraction between us. It didn’t. Not for me. But that doesn’t mean I’m not good at compartmentalizing. I don’t have much choice.
I can’t hop from one relationship to the next—from one hockey p
