I can make this pro and con list and let logic be my guide. I’ve seen too many couples assume “love is all you need,” and then end up at each other’s throats when the love buzz fades, and their underlying incompatibility starts to create insurmountable problems.
So, I sit down and get honest with myself, and in half an hour, I know what I have to do.
I look up, casting a wistful glance out the sliding glass doors, a part of me longing to catch a cab to the train station and head back to the city right now, avoiding the hard part. But that would be a dick move, a Chuck move, and I’m not a dick or a coward.
Bracing myself for a painful conversation, I head back to Derrick’s room to gather my things…and say goodbye.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Derrick
I wake up to find the bed beside me empty.
Immediately, I know something’s wrong. My gut just knows. It’s like I’m connected to Harlow through invisible threads that alert me to the fact that all is not well with my fake fiancée.
Or maybe it’s the fact that she was clearly freaked out by all the love talk last night, genius, a voice whispers in my head.
Yeah, or maybe it’s that.
Still, I do my best not to give in to the anxiety trying to cloud my thoughts. Maybe I spooked Harlow last night, but that doesn’t mean all is lost. I can always pull back, play it cool, and give her a little more time to come around to realizing how perfect we are for each other. I’m in no rush and good things are worth waiting for.
And Harlow? She’s more than a good thing.
She’s the best, a fact she proves by padding into the room just as I’m working up the will to get out of bed with a steamy mug in her hand. “Hey, I brought you coffee,” she whispers. “I was up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
I sit, propping myself up against the pillows and gratefully accepting her offering. “Thanks.” I take a sip, humming in appreciation. “Perfect amount of cream and sugar.”
“Yeah, I know how you like it by now.” She leans against the bureau by the end of the bed, the tension in her posture making my second sip of coffee go bitter in my mouth.
I set the mug on the bedside table. “Spill it. You’ve obviously got something on your mind.”
She lets out a long breath, her gaze fixing on the rumpled covers by my feet. “I made a list.”
“A list,” I echo after a beat. “Like…a grocery list or a to-do list or…”
“A pro and con list. For us. For whether or not we should try to be a couple for real.” She sighs again and lifts her eyes to mine with obvious effort. “And as much as I love being naked with you and laughing with you and just about everything else with you, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re leaving the city, and I’m there for at least another year and a half, and I don’t have the time or bandwidth to take the train upstate every other weekend. I know myself, Derrick, and I would start to resent the fact that you were so far away and—”
“Then I’ll turn down the job,” I say, my heart stuttering in my chest as the words leave my mouth.
But I assure the worried voices in my head that I can find another job, one closer to New York.
I can’t find another Harlow.
Her jaw drops, but when she recovers from her surprise, she shakes her head. “No. You can’t. You’re so excited to be a Hissing Muskrat. I can tell.”
“I’ll be just as excited about another job. More excited, because I’ll make sure it’s close enough for me to commute from the city.”
Her lips thin. “No, Derrick. I can’t let you do that. Because it isn’t just the next year and a half. You need to stay flexible about where you go next. After Syracuse, you want to transition back to another NHL position, and you’ll have to be ready to move to whatever city decides to give you a chance in management. You won’t be able to pick and choose.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say, trying to force a smile and failing.
I can’t believe this is happening, that she’s nipping us in the bud before we even get a chance to see what kind of flower we’d make, what kind of magic. I have to find some way to convince her to take a step back and reconsider.
Swinging my legs out from under the covers, I reach for my jeans on the floor and tug them on. “How about we go to breakfast at that café by the fish and chips place? We can get away from your family and the resort for a little while, drink a pot of coffee, and talk through your concerns together. I know you excel at critical thinking and making lists, but two heads are always better than one. And I think we’ve proven we make a good team.”