“Humor me!”
Tate laughed, nodding his head as he thought. “I guess I hope to still be playing with the Assassins. I have a meeting with Eleanor Adler about that in a couple weeks.” He was nervous, but his agent was pretty confident that they were going to sign him as a regular, not an interim goalie. “I would like to be married or at least have a girlfriend.”
“So early? You don’t want to live life as a single hockey player? I heard it’s all the rage,” she said with a giggle.
Shaking his head, he said, “It really isn’t, and no, I don’t. My dad got married early, and it worked for him. I want that. I want the wife and the kids, early. I don’t want to wait.”
Tate couldn’t help but notice Audrey’s hands pause before she reached up into her hair, pulling it into a ponytail. Her mouth was parted and her eyes wide as she said, “You want kids?”
“Oh yeah, a lot of them,” he asserted.
“Early?”
“Yeah, why? You don’t want children?”
Surely that wasn’t true. She loved kids; he had seen her with all kinds of kids. She was spectacular with them.
Audrey swallowed and shrugged. “Of course I do. I’m just surprised you do, being so young and all.”
Tate watched her for a moment, then said, “I don’t think age matters. It’s all about what you want and what makes you happy. I don’t want to be some single hockey player with no one to share my accomplishments or triumphs with. I want that person who will be there with me, and love me through thick and thin.”
Audrey looked up at him, and Tate noticed the sadness in her eyes. “I do too,” she said. “So let’s hope we both find that person, huh? I know you’ll find yours, and she’ll be one hell of a lucky woman.”
Tate’s brows came together, confused. Was he missing something?
“So, hey, I’m more tired than I thought. I’m gonna go to bed.”
What? What the hell just happened?
And why did he feel that her walls were back up?
Shit!
Chapter 13
Sweat coursed down Audrey’s back, and it wasn’t the happy sweat she liked either. It was the sweat from the four miles of her run that she had already completed. Her feet hurt, she couldn’t breathe, and she was pretty sure she was never baking another cupcake in her life.
Pushing herself, she rounded the corner and headed into Centennial Park. It was cold as shit out, but she was burning up. She could see the steam of her hot breath as she pushed herself a little harder.
Only two more miles.
She would blame Tate for this. The guy could eat a whole platter of cupcakes and feel like a billion bucks. Tate could win hockey games, wear the same size jeans, while she put on a pair of her favorite black and red tights and saw the dreaded cellulite.
Hence the morning torture she was putting herself through.
Not only did she hate working out for itself, she hated it because it always made her think more than she liked. For example, she had rethought all of her and Tate’s interactions for the past two weeks: Every conversation, every touch, every glance, everything. She couldn’t help it. She had to understand why she still wanted him even though she was aware that he wanted kids and she couldn’t give them to him. Was she really that selfish?
She turned the corner, picking up her pace, just as she heard a voice behind her.
“I’m surprised you don’t run in heels.”
Audrey quickly glanced over and saw Tate grinning at her. Crap! She was sweaty, but she didn’t have time to freak out about her awful appearance, because at that moment her face was introduced to a pole and her butt and head got acquainted with the ground.
“Shit! Audrey! Are you okay?”
She fell back onto the concrete, holding her head. She felt like she had run into a steel wall. The coldness from the sidewalk was helping, but not much.