Chapter Sixteen

  Sloan

  I feel like I’m living in a Hallmark movie—the traveler, trying to make it home in time for Christmas, only to have every single thing go wrong, before getting stranded at the airport for hours on end, only to meet the man of her dreams and fall in love during the debacle.

  The only differences are my makeup and hair aren’t remotely close to Christmas movie fresh after the day we’ve had, and I’m not in love.

  I’m in like. Very strong like. How can I not be? Becker is funny and charming and caring and smart. He’s helped me try to track down wrapping paper and gave up first class to sit in a middle seat so I wouldn’t be alone. We’ve laughed all day long and shared things we don’t normally talk about with other people. We’ve fallen into a comfortable friendship that I could see easily turning into more.

  And the closer we get to baggage claim, the more I can feel myself panicking that it’s all coming to an end.

  But that’s crazy, right? You can’t fall in love with someone in a matter of hours. You can be wildly attracted to them. You can enjoy their company. But I don’t know what he’s like during the day-to-day stresses that come with real life.

  Or maybe I do. Because today was one of those days when everything went wrong and instead of getting agitated and angry, Becker just rolled with it. There’s nothing that brings out the worst in people like travel woes during the holidays. If this is Becker at his worst, I can only imagine how great his best is.

  And yet...

  And yet.

  We come from two very different worlds, and I don’t know where Becker’s head is at. Finding a fantastic travel partner is one thing. Having a dating relationship is something completely different.

  “How many bags do you have?”

  “What?”

  Becker smirks down at me. Either he’s figured out where my head is at, or he assumes I’m still half asleep. Honestly, I’m not sure which answer is the correct one. It’s that late and I’m that tired.

  “Did you only check one bag?” he asks.

  My brain finally kicks in. “Oh. Yes. Just the one. But you can’t miss it. It’s a giant, hot pink monstrosity.”

  “You can’t lose it that way, can you?”

  “That’s the goal. I still make sure it’s labeled with my name though. I’m probably not the only one with a suitcase you can’t miss, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? What does maybe mean?”

  His lips quirk to the side, trying to suppress his amusement.

  “Mine is basic black.”

  “Becker, Becker, Becker.” I shake my head in mock disbelief. “It’s been a long time since you’ve flown with us little people, hasn’t it? You’ve forgotten how easy it is to mix up bags, huh?”

  “I’d be lying if I said I’d ever had this much trouble getting to my destination when the plane has been reserved by the team.”

  I sigh. “So that’s how the other half lives.”

  Before he can respond, the buzzer startles all of us. Just as quickly as it started, it quiets. The carousel begins moving.

  “Hang out right here,” he instructs and places the bag of gifts and his duffel at my feet. “I’ll go grab our suitcases and then we can split a ride, okay?”

  I nod, my heart picking up speed, knowing this isn’t over. We still have a good half hour in the back seat of a car to be together.

  Becker bites his bottom lip as he smiles, then turns quickly and finds a place off to the side to wait for our bags.

  I want so badly to ask if he’d like to see me again, but the thought of him rejecting me has me frozen. He’s Becker Bell, a professional hockey player who probably makes a cool seven figures a year and hangs out with beautiful people. I’m Sloan Webber, a financial aid specialist at a local college who lives on a budget and doesn’t like to be scared.

  We are truly complete opposites.

  I know we’ve had a great time today, but on paper, we just don’t work. I mean, we could, and Becker seems to like me. But what happens when he gets back to his fancy real life? Would he even want to see me again?

  I just don’t know, and I’m not sure how to ask without potentially making a fool out of myself.

  Becker doesn’t seem to have that problem. He looks a little ridiculous as he wheels my huge, bright pink bag my direction, pulling his very reserved black one behind him.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said it was pink,” he says with a frown. “Where are my sunglasses? This thing is blinding me.”

  “It’s not that bright, ya big baby,” I argue back.

  “It’s neon.”

  “It’s hot pink.”

  As if on cue, another passenger stumbles over their bags as they walk past us. Becker points right at them.

  “See? It’s blinding everyone.”

  I shake my head in amusement and drop my bag on its side, unzipping and grabbing my giant puffy coat.

  Becker eyes me curiously. “Exactly how cold do you think it is outside?”

  “Listen, I know you’re trying to prove what a big, tough man you are, but I have nothing to prove.” I strain to flip one side of the suitcase back over and zip it up. “I get cold often and have no problem admitting to it.”

  With that, I pull my beanie down over my head and dig my gloves out of my pocket. Becker looks me dead in the eye and slowly zips up his hoodie.

  “Jackass,” I say with a laugh.

  “Careful with the insults,” he warns. “I’m still the one dragging all the suitcases.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Before we go outside, let’s see how far out the rides are. I’m worried there won’t be a whole lot of cars available at this time of night.”

  Becker looks down at his phone and begins swiping. “Already on it. I’m grabbing us an Uber right now.”

  “Uber? I use Lyft.”

  Becker looks up and cocks his head. “Uh, Uber is better.”

  “No way. Lyft is newer and they’re always faster.”

  “Disagree. My Uber says it’ll be here in seven minutes.” Becker waves his phone in the air like he’s just won our argument.

  I purse my lips and grab my phone, programing our destination into my app. “Well, Lyft says a car will be here in five.”

  “Fine.” Becker crossed his arms over his broad chest. “We’ll see what gets here faster and cancel the other. How’s that.”

  “Agreed.”

  Three minutes later, we’ve dragged everything outside just as the Uber drives up.

  “Dammit,” I mutter.

  Becker laughs. “I’d say I told you so, but that doesn’t feel very Christmasy.”

  “You’re such a charmer,” I deadpan and watch as the driver and my travel buddy load all our stuff in the trunk. I take the time to cancel the Lyft, hoping someone didn’t go out of their way to get to the airport. Glancing back at the people waiting on the curb, I’m sure they’ll end up driving someone, no matter what.

  “Hop in.”

  Becker holds the door open for me and I’m grateful to quickly get out of the chilly temps. I’m still not regretting having my puffy coat.

  “So we’re headed to Southside?” the Uber driver asks.

  “Actually, uh,” Becker looks at me. “I’m not sure where we’re going.”

  “It’s okay. You can drop him off first. I’m the opposite direction anyway.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Becker says. “I’m not letting you take an Uber alone in the middle of the night in Chicago. No offense man,” he tacks on quickly.

  The driver holds his hands up. “None taken. I prefer not to put any of us in that position. Let’s drop her first.”

  I scowl but realize they’re both right.

  “Fine.” I give him my mom’s address in Lakeview and our driver takes off like a bat out of hell. The inertia from turning throws me right into Becker’s side. For a split second, I feel bad, but when he puts an arm around me and pulls me even closer, I snuggle in. I may never see him again after this, but I’m going to make our last half hour worth it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Becker

  Sloan wasn’t kidding when she said she lived on the opposite side of town of where my dad is. The drive to the Back of the Yards from here is going to cost me a hefty Uber fee by the time I get home.

  Totally worth it.

  We drive up to the cream-colored bungalow with a white picket fence around it. It’s not large, but it’s clear that it’s very well loved.

  “Wow. Nice place.”

  “It is, isn’t it? It’s the house my mom grew up in and she still lives here.”

  “I love that,” I say and open the door to climb out of the car. Sloan follows behind me.

  “Me, too. Certainly makes living in Lakeview a lot more affordable.”

  “Would you like help with your bags?” our Uber driver, who we now know is named Dwight, offers.

  “I’ve got it,” I say quickly. “Hers is the pink one and this smaller one. The rest are going with us.”

  Dwight picks up my suitcase and begins wrestling it back into the trunk while I help Sloan get her bags to the front porch.

  There’s a pit in my stomach knowing this is the last I’m going to see her if I don’t say something quickly. I’ve made a really good friend today, and if the feeling I have is shared, I just feel like this could lead to something great. I want this to be more, but dammit, my brain can’t figure out how to have this conversation, or even if this is the right time.

  I set the suitcase down next to a porch swing and shove my hands in my pockets.

  Sloan turns to me, making no movement to open the front door. Instead, she pats my chest. It doesn’t matter that it’s a nervous gesture or that it’s through a thick hoodie. I still feel the warmth of her touch run through me.

  “Thanks for helping me with my presents. The miracle of Santa will still be alive and well because of your help.”

  “If a plastic bag and a little wrapping paper are all it takes to keep up the ruse, millions of parents are trying way too hard.”

  Sloan smiles in amusement and bites her lip, nervously looking around the porch.

  I’m not quite sure how to say goodbye. Part of me wants to make a grand gesture, to sweep her off her feet, to kiss her silly while Dwight waits for me in the car. But I keep falling back to the fact that we met less than twenty-four hours ago. There’s no way the intensity of my feelings are anything more than adrenaline and the Christmas spirit. And yet, there is such a thing as a Christmas miracle, right? Could that be what this is? I want so badly to find out for sure.

  Maybe it’s the flurries that begin falling, maybe it’s my own exhaustion, but whatever it is, my brain finally seems to kick in. I can’t, won’t, leave here without putting myself out there at least a little. What’s the worst that can happen? She rejects me and I never see her again? A little bruise to my ego won’t kill me.

  With those thoughts, I stop overthinking and clear my throat. Time to go for it.

  “When we get back to Tampa, you wanna come to a game?”

  Sloan blinks a few times before a wide grin slowly crosses her face. “Only if Chicago is playing.”

  “So you can cheer while we wipe the ice with them, right?”

  She snickers and I feel like my chest could puff out just from the sound.

  “How about I cheer if you do something good on the ice. But I won’t cheer for your teammates,” she offers quickly.

  “Deal.”

  I hold out my hand for us to shake on it and we shake…

  And shake.

  And shake.

  Finally, she pulls away. “Um, I guess I should go inside.”

  “Yeah.” And that’s when I remember. “Wait. Give me your number real quick so I can let you know when I have tickets for you.”

  She rattles off some numbers and I quickly put them into my phone and text her so she has my number as well. I feel like I’m the one being a weenie this time. All I’m doing is asking her out, but it’s close to two in the morning. My brain is running on fumes at this point.

  “It’s cold out here. Why don’t you head on in.”

  Sloan opens the door with her key, and I quietly place the pink monstrosity and her smaller suitcase just inside the door, careful not to step inside myself. She raises her hand in a quick wave and whispers, “Bye” before shutting the door as I race back down the stairs and to my waiting ride.

  It isn’t until I’m safely sitting in the back seat that my body registers how cold it is. I rub my hands together and blow warm air into my fists to try and warm them up.

  “I hope you got her phone number,” Dwight says as he pulls away from the curb. “She’s cute.”

  “She’s more than cute. And yes, I did.”

  “Good man. Where are we headed?”

  I give Dwight the address to the two-flat I grew up in, trying not to chuckle at his groan at it being on the exact opposite side of town. If he knew he was going to get a hefty Christmas tip, he’d probably be a little more pleasant, but it doesn’t matter to me. I’ve just had one of the best days of my life and I got the girl’s number. Nothing will change my mood.

  Now to get home, get some rest, and see if I wake up as excited about this new-found relationship as I am right now.

  As I settle into the seat, my phone begins to buzz. That’s weird. No one I know should be awake right now.

  Sliding open my screen, I see it’s a text from Sloan. There’s a picture of a half-eaten Christmas cookie and a now wrapped gift sitting next to the plate with the caption, “Christmas miracle: complete. Only a visit from Santa himself would cement my sweet niece’s belief permanently.”

  I shoot back a heart emoji and shove my phone in my jacket pocket.

  Her niece isn’t the only one believing in the miracle of Christmas right now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sloan

  I startle awake, not sure what woke me or what has my heart racing.

  “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

  I hear the scream from the other room and launch myself out of bed, struggling to get untangled from the sheet that’s twisted around my ankle before flinging the bedroom door open and race down the hall.

  “What’s wrong?” I pant from the exertion. Not the running, but the untangling. Those thousand threads really know how to hang on.

  “Santa came, Aunt Sloan! Santa came!” Unable to hold herself back, Kylie launches herself at me, hugging my legs tight.

  I rub her little back until my heart slows down a bit, then pick her up and pull her into a hug.

  “He did? Did he eat any of the cookies?”

  Kylie wiggles back down to the floor, and jumps up and down as she points at the cookie missing the huge bite I’d taken from it last night. Or, I guess, more accurately, earlier today.

  “Look! Look!”

  “I see. Wow, he took a big bite, didn’t he?”

  She stands up straight and puffs out her chest. “I told Mommy Santa wouldn’t care that I sneezed on it.”

  My eyebrows shoot up as her words register. “What?”

  My sister takes that moment to give me a side hug in greeting and places my nephew Jude into my arms. “I’ve got left over antibiotics for you in the cabinet if you need them.”

  I give Jude a quick raspberry on the neck making him giggle before berating my sister. “Ohmygod, Tracy, why did you let her do that? That’s disgusting.”

  “She was just so excited about how well she decorated that particular cookie, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. Plus I was going to throw it away this morning before she got up, but someone took a bite out of it before I had the chance.” She waggles her brows at me.

  “You could have texted me a warning. I will never stand in as Santa again.” Tracy just laughs. I bounce Jude in my arms. “No, really. You’re on your own. When this one gets to be her age, you can forget it.”

  She waves me off like she doesn’t believe me.

  “Can we open presents now, Mommy? Huh? Can we?” Kylie is still jumping up and down, her excitement practically contagious. Hopefully more so than her germs.

  Tracy strokes her daughter’s wild hair lovingly. “We need to wait for Daddy and Grammy.”

  “When they’re awake we can open presents?”

  “Sure can.”

  “Okay!”

  Kylie takes that as her cue to race down the hall to the third bedroom screaming, “Daaaadddddyyyyy!” at the top of her lungs.

  “Why are you awake?” my sister asks as she begins messing with the coffee pot. “You only got here a few hours ago, right?”

  I nuzzle my nephew’s hand with my lips before pushing his fist away from my face. He seems to recognize me from our video chats which makes me really happy. “They dropped me off about two. And I was sound asleep until someone’s daughter started screaming like her arms were being cut off.”

  Tracy snickers. “She’s just been a little excited about Christmas for the last six months. I’m honestly surprised she slept this long.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “Seven?” I groan. “Better make that coffee extra strong.”

  “I’m on it.” She pours hot water into the reservoir. “How did your flight end up being anyway? How long were you delayed?”

  I drop down onto the stool, suddenly feeling very tired again now that the adrenaline has worn off. “Um, like fourteen hours.”

  Tracy grimaces as she scoops coffee grounds into the filter. “That sounds awful. Were you bored out of your mind?”

  I think back to meeting Becker and how much fun we had. The laughter over the code to the nursing room. The full body massage chairs. The Florida Glaze ornament he tried to buy me at the gift shop. The lice hunt.

  “It was a surprisingly fun day.”

  My sister pauses. She knows me well enough to immediately peg that something important happened. She cocks her head, eyes narrowed as she assesses me. I continue to play with Jude, waiting to see what she comes up with.

 

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