I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on.”

She keeps kneading her boob. “No, really. It feels like you tried to shave off my nipple with your pointy-ass elbow.” She looks down her shirt, as if she’s checking to make sure her nipple is indeed still attached to her body. “Remember how sore your boobs were when you were a teenager and they were just busting out?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

“It’s like that, but worse. They’ve been like this all week. Alex is getting frustrated that he can’t slide his dick between them.” She’s still kneading her boob with one hand and fingering the petals of a dahlia with the other. “I have a meeting in twenty, but I expect to hear all about what you did to inspire those flowers at lunch.” She nabs another granola bar from my desk and leaves me to it.

Darren calls before I have a chance to reach out and thank him for the flowers.

“I was about to message you,” I tell him.

“Were you now?”

I can almost see him smiling, and it makes my heart flutter.

“Someone sent me something beautiful.”

“Is that right? What kind of something beautiful?”

“Some very stunning flowers. They look like a sunrise.”

“So you like them?”

“I love them. They’re gorgeous. I’m not sure what I did to warrant them, but they’re certainly appreciated.” Why are there butterflies suddenly flitting around in my stomach?

“You don’t need to do anything to warrant something nice. If it was reasonable, I’d send you flowers every day.” He clears his throat, and I can hear water running in the background. “I wanted to check in with you before I head out this afternoon. Would it be okay for me to call you later tonight, once I’m settled in Toronto?”

“Of course.”

“And when I’m home, you’ll stay over again? If you’re not busy?”

“I’m available whenever you need me.”

“That would be always, Charlene. I’ll touch base when I’m in Toronto. Enjoy the flowers.”

“I will. Bye, Darren.”

He never ends a call with goodbye. I don’t know why. I stare at my phone for several long seconds as I roll what he said around in my head. “That would be always.”

With the recent revelation about his family, I’ve come to a few new realizations. Darren was essentially starved of affection as a child, and likely for his entire life, so his asking for my time is him trying to restrain his neediness. All those nights spent in his bed with him lying like Dracula was as much about giving me space as it was about being afraid to seek intimacy and be denied. It isn’t control he’s seeking, so much as a way to let go of the restraints placed on him.

Part of me loves being needed by him like this, but the other part worries that need turns into dependency, and that’s when things get dicey. Until now I’ve never allowed myself to get involved with someone to the point of needing them so acutely.

I don’t have time to fixate on it, though. My morning meeting and deleting my mom’s emails keep me too busy to be able to obsess. At noon, Violet peeks in my door and declares it’s lunchtime and she needs to eat all the Thai food because she’s starving to death.

I shoulder my purse. “Should we invite Jimmy and Dean?”

She gives me her cringy face. “Only if we run into them on the way out?”

“Sure.”

We’re barely seated at a table before Violet is beelining it to the buffet, loading her plate with things she normally wouldn’t. She barely utters a word as she shovels food into her mouth.

Violet slows down about halfway through her plate. “Okay, I think I got a little overexcited.” She slumps back in her seat and rubs her tummy. “I hope Chicago doesn’t shit the bed this game.”

I pause with my fork half an inch from my mouth. “Vi! You can’t say things like that. You’re pretty much ensuring they lose with that kind of talk.”

“Toronto has been solid this season, and they’re fighting to win, you know? They haven’t seen the Cup in more than half a century. Besides that, and you can’t repeat this to anyone, but Alex hasn’t been on top of his game. That injury last season has slowed him down, and the only reason he’s been managing is because Darren is picking up the slack. Everyone knows that. All the guys, and Darren I’m sure, but none of them will say anything.”

“Alex has been playing well,” I counter. But even as I say it, I know it’s a half-truth. Normally Alex is one of the top players in the league, but this year has been different. His stats have taken a serious hit, and he hasn’t been playing as well as usual, whereas Darren’s stats have been on the rise, particularly his assists. It’s like he’s handing goals to Alex instead of taking them for his own. Which says a lot about him as a person.

“Well, in the general sense of the word, but not like he used to. Promise me this conversation stays between us.”

“Of course. I promise.”

“You can’t tell Darren.”

Violet has been my best friend for almost a decade, so when she asks me to keep a secret, it’s usually a no brainer. But since Darren and I just dealt with the fallout of one of his secrets, I hesitate for a second before I respond.

“I won’t tell Darren.”

I hold out my pinkie and Violet grips it with hers. “Imagine if you unzipped a pair of pants and found a dick this small inside. How sad would you be?”

“So sad.”

“Darren seriously hasn’t said anything about Alex’s performance this season?”

I consider what she’s asking, and weigh it with how freely I should share my private conversations with Darren. “He mentioned that recovery can be slow and Alex was playing his best.”

Violet nods and pushes her food around on her plate. “He really is. But he’s also aware that his shoulder doesn’t feel the way it used to. He doesn’t want to wreck his body. He’s been thinking about the future a lot, about what he sees for himself after the NHL, so when his contract is up with Chicago, he’s considering retirement.”

“What if Chicago wants to renew again?” I ask.

“We’ll see, but it really depends. I don’t think he wants to go out with tanked stats, you know? He’s been at the top of his game for a long time, and it’s hard for him to put in so much extra work and not see the payoff.”

“What will he do when he retires?” Darren’s plan once his hockey career ends isn’t something we’ve discussed.

“He’s talked about sportscasting or coaching. I’m hoping for the former since he’ll probably be able to get on in Chicago, and then I won’t have to quit my job.”

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” This makes me intensely aware of how different my relationship is with Darren. We don’t plan past next weekend, let alone next year. That he asked me to be available when he returns from the away game in Toronto is a big deal.

“The concussion last season scared him. He still has holes in his memory, Char. Sometimes he has difficultly remembering simple things, and he gets flustered. It’s not anything really worrying, but it’s there. He doesn’t want to take the risk anymore, especially now that he’s actively trying to knock me up. He doesn’t want to compromise his family for his career.”

“I can understand that, but retirement? It seems so final.”

I have to wonder what that’s like to have someone love you so much that they weigh choices in favor of who, not what they love.

There’s a pit in my stomach, and every time we have one of these heavy conversations, it gets a little deeper. Everyone else is settling down, creating their own microcosm of family, and here I am getting excited over Darren wanting time with me next week.

Violet folds her napkin until it sort of resembles a diaper. “I know, but Alex wants to be involved, and traveling would made that hard. Besides, Alex doesn’t want to leave Chicago, and I know Buck has plans to settle here once his career is over.”

She smiles wistfully. “It’d be nice if our kids could all grow up together, wouldn’t it? I can kind of see what the future would be like if all of us stayed here. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we both had girls and they were best friends like we are?”

I don’t even know if Darren is going to be in Chicago next year, let alone if we’re still going to be together, and already Violet is planning our kids’ futures.

Violet wipes under her eyes and stares down at the wetness as if she can’t understand how it got there. “Oh my God, I’m not even pregnant yet, and I’m already crying about everything.”

I hand her a clean napkin, and she blots under her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant? I mean, you’re eating like you’re trying to win some kind of competition. And the breast tenderness . . .”

I mean it as a joke, but she pulls out her phone and flips through her calendar. “Oh shit.”

My stomach does a little flip.

“I should’ve gotten my period five days ago.” Violet’s eyes are huge. She grips the edge of the table. “What if I’m pregnant?”