I could not afford the sort of distractions that were plaguing me at the moment. The team required one hundred percent focus. But I didn't have one hundred percent because I was thinking about Kins and the fact that I hadn't seen or talked to her.

I was thinking about the phone call with Ash when she told me Kins and Sadie had imploded at each other and were no longer speaking. I was thinking about the fact that I had building consent forms to file and no fiancee to go through the motions with.

It was supposed to be her and I doing those things, creating milestones together. I was thinking about the monumental fuck up I made when I left out the fact that we were building a house when she said no more secrets.

Was it possible to cause more damage if I flicked her a quick message that said, by the way, we were building our dream home together, just forgot to mention that earlier.

Fuck, I was such an idiot and I hated how I'd handled all of this. Not that I knew a better alternative. Couldn't Kins realize that? Realize that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing and cut me some slack for getting it wrong?

I wasn't sure where we stood right now. She wasn't responding to my messages or answering my calls. It was debilitating and I couldn't do debilitating. Not when I had a team that relied on my focus.

It'd been almost a week since our night together in Edmonton. A week of nothing from the woman I love.

We were in Vegas tonight and we'd lost. I'd been told not to shoulder the blame from most of the team, but considering I was the one who had my head up my ass the entire time, my entire body suffering the loss of Kins, it was hard not to feel responsible. It was like a virus and I didn't know how to shake it. I thought I was more professional than this. I thought I was better.

Coach was humming to kick my ass, I could tell, his fists bunched at his side while he screamed and showered me with spit as soon as I left the ice. We were used to getting chewed out and I didn't bother arguing with him about some of the passes I'd made or steals I'd failed. I'd fucked up.

There were a few bars to choose from in our hotel, the Luxor hotel and Casino. It was on the strip about a minute drive to the T-Mobil arena where our game had been. We'd found one of the more subtle bars to have a quiet drink. It looked like a sports bar with flat screens, tiled flooring, exposed wooden ceilings and brick walls. The tables were tall and the stools were made of brown leather. We chose a rounded booth underneath a couple of framed football jerseys.

A lot of the team had decided to go to the casino, drink up and make the most of being in sin city. It didn't appeal to me. Sure, it would've been a good distraction, but that wasn't the sort of distraction I wanted when it came to Kins.

Getting fucked up and gambling had the potential to do more harm than good when it came to a relationship and right now, when things were so unstable, I was choosing to be careful.

Leighton cradled a beer in one hand, his phone in the other, staring at the screen with a grin on his mouth. He chose to mope with me tonight, even though he had the option to do an assortment of single, Leighton based activities. He loved coming to Vegas for that reason alone.

A couple of women walked past the table while I peeled the label off my bottle, their flirtatious gazes not lost on me, but also nothing compared to the sensual stares that Kins rendered me fucking senseless with. I gave them a polite smile but averted my attention fast enough that my non intentions couldn't be mistaken.

I was a taken man, whether the woman I loved was talking to me or not.

"What the fuck are you smiling at?" I finally asked Leighton who had his lips around the neck of his bottle. His eyes flicked up and met mine. "Don't stare at me while you're giving that bottle a blow job."

His lips popped off the tip and he wiggled his brows at me. "You wish that was you, huh."

I gestured at my crotch. "You couldn't handle all of this."

He set his phone down with a light laugh but still didn't answer me.

"You seeing someone?" I pressed and noticed him shift in his seat, his fingers drummed the side of his bottle and he inhaled a deep breath. "You are, huh? What's the big deal?"

Leighton didn't often keep his affairs private, he readily boasted about his sex life to whoever would listen.

"Is it Sadie?"

He shook his head, eyes down on the table top. "No chance."

His absolute denial confused me for a second. It wasn't that long ago he'd been keen on Sadie, even going as far as to get her number from Kins. I don't know if he ever tried his luck. Perhaps he did.

"Did she turn you down?"

A waitress approached the table then and set down another round we'd ordered a few minutes ago. Leighton waited until she was gone and then he shot me a harsh glare.

"No one turns me down."

I raised the bottle, letting it hover just in front of my mouth as I said, "You've been turned down in front of me more than once. Be humble."

"Fine, but not this time. We almost went out one night a few weeks ago but she cancelled on me out of the blue and I ended up running into someone else that night."

"Who?"

"You don't know her," he said, refusing to look at me. "She has a good coffee order though."

I scoffed. Leighton and his damn coffee order conspiracy.

For just one second, my sister popped into my head. He'd slept with her before and I chose not to get involved or upset because she's a grown up and she can do what she wants. Not that she would've let me do the big brother act regardless.

But Ash assured me when it happened, that was it. A one off. Never to be repeated while her lungs still had breath in them. Still, it didn't make sense for him to keep it a secret from me unless it impacted me. Again, it wasn't my business, but perhaps he was worried I'd interfere.

"Whatever," I let it go because I wasn't in the mood to hound him for the sordid details.

"Still haven't heard from Kinner?" He asked, gesturing at the phone face up beside me. I'd had to turn off every single notification apart from the messages app because whenever my phone pinged, my heart flew into my throat and I was on edge waiting for her to grace me with a response.

I shook my head, twisting the label between my fingers, rolling it into a ball.

"Do you think she has a point?"

I looked up at Leighton, and from the way he reared back in his seat, I knew my disgust was evident.

"I just mean, perhaps she's right. She isn't the same person she used to be. She has changed. Maybe you grieve the old Kins and let her go. Start fresh. Would that be so bad if she isn't the same girl you used to love?"

It was obvious he wasn't being an asshole, he was just curious and I couldn't blame him for that. If I was struggling to come to terms with how to handle these circumstances, I couldn't expect him to have it all figured out either.

"She is the same though," I murmured, the scene in front of me fading out of focus while I thought of her, just her. "She's not as quick to throw down with someone, she's more trusting, softer in a sense. But she is her. The things that are important to her, the places she wants to go in life, her fierce need to protect the people she loves and the way she stands up for herself. None of that has changed."

Leighton rubbed his brow, the one with a scar in it and looked far off, as if he was remembering what it was like to feel that way about a woman. He had once and I'm sure he could again, if he allowed himself to move on.

"She is home," I said to him, but more myself. "Her face is home, her smile, her laugh. Her voice."

"She does have a hot voice."

I shot him a withering glare. "Shut the hell up."

"Give it time, man," he said, folding his arms on the table, his sleeve soaking up the drizzle of condensation his bottle had left. "She'll come round. If all these feelings and this love is real, she'll come round."

I wanted to berate him on his use of 'if'. There was no 'if' these feelings and love were real. It was the most real thing I had ever experienced.

When I found out I'd been selected for the Flames, I thought nothing could ever top that sort of elation. Nothing could ever send me soaring the same way finding out I would be in the NHL did.

But then Kinsley looked at me in a restaurant one cold August morning and she told me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me and I knew nothing would ever come close to making me feel that good, that complete, ever again.

A text came through and my heart stuttered as I picked it up and saw her name in the message bubble. As desperate as I was to read it, I wanted to give it my full attention. So I stood up, my chair gliding backward on the polished hard wood floor and I left with just a quick goodnight to Leighton.

He didn't care, he was just as immersed in his own conversation with the girl he was texting. In the back of my mind, I was determined to learn more, but it could wait.

Our hotel, as well as the T-Mobil arena was on the Las Vegas strip. I left the bar, wondering if I should go for a walk, find somewhere quiet that wasn't my room. But there wasn't a quiet spot for a while around here. I resigned to going upstairs. The rooms were good, great, what did it matter? They were flash as fuck and I didn't care for it as I kicked off my shoes and tumbled into the bed, which admittedly was soft.

Then and only then, did I open the text message.

Can we take things slow? Or slower than we have been.

This was good. This wasn't a break up or a goodbye. This was progress. I could do slow if it meant I got to keep her. Phone above me, I tapped out a response.

Of course.

I wanted to add more. Of course, I love you, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. None of that was slow though.

Fuck, how slow was she talking? Whatever. I wasn't going to question it. Not when this was the first time I'd heard from her in a week.

Dots bounced at the bottom of the screen and then disappeared. Disappointment flooded in but the dots appeared again.

I was going to end up chewing a hole through my cheek at this point. The dots disappeared again. The phone creaked under the squeeze of my fist, the screen getting discolored flares on the edges.

It started ringing.

I sat up so fast that I got head rush but that didn't stop me from hitting answer and standing up. "Kins?"

"Hi," her rasp voice was quiet on the other end and I paced over to the window, looking out at the strip, the lights, the blur of traffic and as I rested an arm on the window above me, I thought about the fact that the world hadn't stopped for us.

It felt like it had. How could it not? She wasn't with me and nothing made a bit of fucking sense when she wasn't with me. Life hadn't started until I met her and I was convinced she could be the beginning of every single good thing the world knew.

That was how consuming she was, like there wasn't a me without her, there wasn't a breath being inhaled in the world without her, there wasn't a smile that existed without her. It was her. All of it.

Her little 'hi' hung between us and I had no idea what to say. I felt like I was on a word count and if I fucked it up, that was it, chance over.

"How are you?" I asked, because that felt like the safest option.

She let out a little sigh, one of contentment, like she was as glad to hear my voice as I was to hear hers. "I'm. . . well, I've been better. Sadie and I aren't talking. But work is going well."

I'd been a voice of reason when it came to her fights with Sadie in the past. I'd helped her to see the other side, offered her a different perspective. This time, I didn't want to. That might've been selfish, but Sadie brought this on herself and I was still too pissed to help her out of this one. Ash could do that.

"Tell me about the job," I said, steering the conversation in a positive direction. "You're enjoying it?"

"Yeah." I heard her smile. "I went and met with a client this afternoon. He's just built a home gym and he wants it decorated. His vision is. . . unique."

"Oh? What's he after?"

"He wants it loosely inspired by a bordello."

I lightly laughed. "What?"

"Yeah," she laughed as well and I lowered my arm from the window, sliding it into my pocket. "He said sex motivates him and harnessing his desires into exercise will give him the best results. It was interesting but I think I can deliver."

She didn't mean it how it sounded, I knew that. Still, my fist tightened in my pocket and I swallowed hard. "You're. . . safe, right? He didn't behave inappropriately, did he?"

"No, no," she said. "He was super professional. Almost like he was worried he'd make me uncomfortable if he said the wrong thing. He kept his distance and told me what he wanted in a factual manner but he wasn't gross."

Relief cooled the skin on the back of my neck. "What an end to the first week."

"That's what I thought too. I mocked up a few mood boards for him as soon as I got back to the office. It's such a unique project that I'm genuinely excited to bring it to life. I'm thinking rich red walls, perhaps a brick feature wall, neon signage but the words will be related to exercise. I have to put a folder together and get it back to him mid next week."

I smiled, feeling my chest swell at the excitement in her voice. I'd never heard her talk about work like this.

"What comes after that?" I asked, wanting to hear more of that lilt in her tone, that elevation that almost made her breathless.

"After we agree on a visual, I have to go back and do measurements, determine the best use of space and make sure that it'll be functional. The photographer will come with me to take before and after shots. I'll use the before shots to do a more in depth mock up of the space to get a better idea of color schemes and the space— this is probably boring."

"Not at all. Keep going."

She did, she explained the process to me and I wandered around the room, listening to her voice, absorbing each and every word as if it would be the last thing I ever heard. Life was too short to live as if we were promised tomorrow.

"How's Vegas?" She asked when she was done talking about work. I could've listened to her talk about interior design for hours but she'd exhausted herself on the subject.

"Vegas is. . . Vegas. I've seen it before and I'll see it again. A lot of bright lights, noise and alcohol. Well, on the strip at least. You ever been?"

"No, not that I remember."

I knew this answer better than she did and I should've realized that.

"You went once," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed, an elbow on my thigh as I ran a hand through my hair, tugging on the strands. "Toward the end of college when you were dating that asshole we don't speak of."

Her laugh was quiet, but I took it as a good sign.

"It was an impromptu get away with a group of friends to celebrate someone's birthday. You described the trip to me as a misogynistic nightmare and a complete waste of credit card debt. You paid it off though, working hard."

This time her laugh was loud and full. Music for me. "I'm afraid to ask what happened."

"There was something about the dudes in your group talking shit about the outfits you wore. Alex didn't like the fact that your dress was short but he was happy to go and sit in the front row of a strip show and throw dollar bills at the bare tits."

She gasped, scandalized. "He sounds like the worst."

"He does."

"What else did I say about it?"

"Just that it was like that the whole time. Alex degrading you and the other girls right before he took a shot out of someone's cleavage. You spent most of the time fighting and never went on a trip together again. You and the other girls also ended up doing a wet t-shirt contest and never told a soul about it."

She giggled, breath stealing giggles. Fuck, I was so glad she was having fun with this. I'd tell her whatever stories I could if she let me.

"It sounds like I used to tell you a lot."

"You did. We spent hours talking on the phone or in bed. I mean, sure we were only together for six ish months but we had hours and hours of conversations. We walked a lot. Spent a lot of time on the ice or in the forest or on the couch and we talked."

"And you listened," her tone was light, teasing and a bit impressed.

"I did. To every word that ever came out of your mouth."

The line fell quiet and I listened to her soft breathing, desperately in love, willing to do whatever it required to keep hold of her heart so that I never had to watch her give it to someone else. It might've seemed arrogant but I knew no one could ever protect her like I could.

There wasn't a doubt in my mind that she'd have men fall at her feet, claim to love her, want her. But not enough. I would spend the next ten years of my life utterly alone if it meant she'd give me an hour of her time at the end of the decade.

"I think I wouldn't mind going to Vegas again, with the right people."

"If you did a wet t-shirt contest, I swear I would be in the front row cheering you on."

And I might threaten to blind the mother fuckers watching her. Not that she didn't deserve all of the appreciation she'd get.

"I appreciate that," she said, her grin audible. "I don't know that I'm drawn to that scene though. The bright lights. I prefer a good view from a quiet, scenic spot."

"Mmmm," I hummed in agreement. "I know. The most excitement you're into is the stadium, watching a good hockey brawl."

She smacked her lips. "You know me so well."

"I do."

"From what I know about you," she said, her voice only slightly flustered at my deceleration. "You love a quiet night in, good food, a nice walk in nature, driving and being shirtless."

I laughed at that, tousling out my hair as I stood up again. Fuck, I felt like she'd cured me of all the aching I felt this week. My entire frame felt more relaxed just at the sound of her voice.

"I do love all of those things." I love you too. "Being shirtless is just a comfort thing. You know, like not wearing pants. You like me being shirtless too."

"Oh I do," she confirmed. "You're art. I appreciate art."

"Me? Babe, you deserve a sculpture. Like, one of those ancient Greek statues seen in museums."

"You'll have to chisel it out of marble and feed me grapes while I pose."

"Baby, that sounds like a damn good time."

If she thought I was kidding, I wasn't.