Another twenty minutes goes by and my dress and shoes are paid for—which I got for a steal since it was on consignment—and I’m sitting in a hair salon that is located right next door to Stella’s shop.

More air kisses, after which Stevie consults with the stylist—a plump woman named Moe—and it’s decided I need an updo with lots of wavy curls.

More air kisses with the makeup artist—a man named Antonio, with a mass of dark curly hair in disarray all around his face—and it’s decided I need dark smoky eyes but coral blush and lip stain.

After I’m primped, powdered, and otherwise glammed from my shoulders up, Stevie instructs me to take my car home and follows me in his delivery van, which is painted bright purple to match the front door of his flower shop.

From there it’s straight into my dress and strappy shoes, after which all three of the kids watch as Stevie does some last minute evaluation of my look, adjusts a curl that came loose in my hair, and shoves lip gloss at me to put a final layer on.

When I was done, he had me twirl around for a final look-see, at which all three of the kids clapped and cheered their approval. Tina graciously agreed to stay for another hour so Stevie could spare me a cab ride and take me to the gala, which was in downtown Raleigh at the Convention Center.

He pulled right up to the curb, and because the gala had started more than half an hour ago, there was no one outside. No long line of limos waiting to expel celebrities and no paparazzi and their flashing cameras.

Just me—Jules turned Cinderella—stepping out of Stevie’s purple van with my heart racing and my palms sweating. I turn and lean back in the passenger door briefly as Stevie grins at me.

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. “For not only helping me put my head on straight, but for making me feel like a princess tonight.”

Stevie shakes his head. “I just helped get you dressed. Max is the one who will make you feel like a princess.”

I take a deep breath, let it out.

“God, I hope so,” I tell him as I shut the door and turn to walk into the Convention Center.

Chapter 27

Max

“These things are such a drag,” Hawke says as he tugs on his bow tie, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Bet you wouldn’t be saying that if Vale was your date instead of me,” I say with a chuckle.

“That is absolutely true,” Hawke agrees with a laugh.

And I’m pleased to hear my friend has an easy, spirited laugh again.

That’s because while we were in between the Ottawa and Montreal games this week, Hawke paid a surprise visit to Sydney, Nova Scotia. It was under the appearance of visiting his billet family—that is, the family that housed Hawke while he was playing major junior hockey in Sydney.

That truly may have been his intended mission, but I know damn well it was so he could check up on Vale. And the checkup proved fruitful because they’re back together again.

Except not in the literal sense, as she’s supposed to be starting a new job at The Ohio State University in a few weeks.

“This long distance relationship stuff sucks,” Hawke grumbles, as if he was reading my mind. I’d almost agree with him, except he at least now has a solid relationship back on track, whereas I have no fucking clue what’s going on with me and Jules.

“It’s only temporary,” I remind him. Apparently, Vale is going to try to find a job back in the Raleigh area as soon as she can. “So suck it up.”

“Just like you’re doing?” Hawke asks with a sly grin.

“Just like me,” I agree as I survey the crowd. It’s a hodgepodge of sports celebrities, state level politicians, and generally rich donors who will part ways with lots of money tonight.

Because Jules asked for space and I’m giving it to her. She texted me a few times this week, and while I responded, I kept my feelings dialed way the fuck in. So yeah . . . I’m sucking it up and giving her what she says she needs, with nothing but the hope that when she finally works things out in her head, she’ll realize she needs me in her life.

“You should just go see her tonight,” Hawke says, and my head snaps his way.

“Just go see her?” I ask with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, why not?” Hawke asks, and before I can give him a million reasons to answer his question, he adds on, “She did say she just wanted to slow things down, right? I take that to mean she still wants to see you.”

Well, yeah . . . she did say that, but I’m not exactly sure that’s what she meant. She insisted it wasn’t a breakup and that she just wanted to slow things a bit. But fuck that. I’m a guy that doesn’t slow down. When I know something is good for me and I want it, I go forward with guns blazing until I get what I want.

It’s fucking killing me to not just barrel my way into Jules’ apartment and physically kidnap her and the kids so I can move them into my house.

Shaking my head, I look back around the ballroom as I mutter, “I don’t think Jules would appreciate me just dropping by.”

“I think she would,” Hawke counters.

I snort. “That’s just because you got your girl back and you’ve got all these silly ideals in your head.”

“Maybe so,” Hawke says affably. “But I still think you should push a little.”

I’m shaking my head before he even gets the words all the way out. I turn to face him, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Jules isn’t the type of woman you push. She likes to find her own way. She’s independent and stubborn, but she’s also smart and reasonable. I’ve got to let her figure this out on her own. It’s the only way really.”

“I get that line of reasoning,” Hawke continues to pester me. “But if you stay away, she might forget all about you. Absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder.”

My stomach flips at the thought. Would she fucking forget about me now that I’m making myself scarce? Would she just move on with her life and figure that she can do things on her own, why in the hell would she ever need me?

A panicky feeling starts to claw at my insides. “Maybe I’ll go see her tomorrow.”

Hawke’s eyes brighten and he nods effusively at me. “That’s the spirit. So what’s the first thing you’ll tell her when you see her tomorrow?”