The Good Luck Charm

by Helena Hunting

  “Just some snacks and bottles of water.” He laces his fingers with mine. “Come on. Merk is going to lose his mind if we don’t get moving.”

  He’s right. Merk is trotting in place, whining his frustration with not being able to tear through the open field. I unclip the leash and let him loose to chase poor, helpless butterflies and roll around in the grass. He’s probably going to need a bath when we get home, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I can have Ethan take care of that while I study.

  We pass the football field, where a group of teenagers toss a ball around. A few girls sit on the sidelines watching them play, shouting and laughing.

  “So carefree,” I observe.

  He squeezes my hand. “We were like that once.”

  I can feel his eyes on me, and I look up, seeing the shadows there. Trying again with him means sometimes we get bogged down with the past instead of staying in the present. “Well, you had your moments, but I was always pretty zeroed in on the goal. If it wasn’t for you, I probably never would’ve had any fun.”

  “Totally untrue, we had fun all the time. You had big plans. You knew exactly what you were doing and how you were going to get there, you just figured out how to prioritize it all better than I did.”

  I laugh a little at that. “I thought I knew what I was doing; half the time I had my head in the clouds.” I whistle for Merk as we approach the tree line, and he changes course, running circles around us.

  I clip the leash back on, giving Merk slack so he can sniff around on the path. Under the cover of the trees it’s cooler, and beams of sunlight filter through gaps in the branches.

  We continue down the path, away from the sound of the kids playing ball in the field. Eventually we have to unlink our hands when the path narrows, and we’re forced into single file.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  I glance over my shoulder at him. “Sure.”

  “What made you decide not to become a doctor?”

  I can read between the lines. He wants to know if he’s the reason, or maybe Avery. Neither is true, although I suppose in some way, both were factors in the ultimate decision. “For the first two years of college, premed was my goal, but then I started to realize I didn’t love the idea of setting up my own practice, and I didn’t want to be a surgeon. It’s the people part of the job I love the most, being able to help and being involved in the treatment plan beyond signing off on papers and interpreting test results, so I switched gears and went into nursing instead.”

  Ethan chews his bottom lip, regarding me thoughtfully. “So it had nothing to do with finances?”

  “Not for me, no,” I reply, tugging on Merk’s leash when he tries to go after a squirrel.

  “That seems like a loaded answer.”

  I debate how to frame this. There’s so much he doesn’t know about my life in the time he was gone from it. And yet, as much as I’ve changed, much remains the same. “Well, Avery was all for the switch because it was less expensive, and I wouldn’t be in school as long.”

  “Doctors make a lot more than nurses, though,” Ethan says.

  I glance at him. “It was never about the paycheck. Doctors also work insane hours. I wanted some balance between my job and my life, and Avery wanted a family.”

  “So that’s why you went into nursing? So you could start a family?”

  There’s discomfort in this conversation. I’m glad I have to focus on navigating the uneven terrain rather than seeing his reaction. “I didn’t make the decision for him; I made it for me. He wanted to start a family, but I…didn’t.”

  “You always wanted a family, though.”

  “Eventually yes, with the right person.” I sigh, considering the year leading up to my separation from Avery. It had been coming for a long time; the end of us had been inevitable from the beginning, for exactly the reasons Avery cited in the grocery store parking lot. “And that wasn’t him. It took me a while to recognize that. I wanted to go back to school; he wanted to focus on starting a family. We were moving in different directions, and at some point, we both realized it wasn’t going to work, for a lot of reasons.” At first I loved the way he seemed to need me, constantly bringing me to work events, meeting me for lunch during the week as often as he could, calling during the day just to check in. After a while it felt suffocating, and the more he tried to pull me closer, the more I pulled away.

  Ethan’s quiet for a few seconds. “So now you’re free to do what you want.”

  I’m glad for the shift away from Avery. “It was always my choice, but for a while it wasn’t practical. I want to be a nurse practitioner, but I’m missing a couple of courses, which is why I’m taking stats, and then a second stats course in the winter, so hopefully I’ll gain admission into the master’s program next fall.”

  “At the University of Minnesota?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  He nods but doesn’t comment on it further. I wonder if we’re both thinking the same thing—about whether he’ll be here next fall or somewhere else. This plan of mine has gotten me through the most difficult part of the separation with Avery. I needed a sense of purpose so walking away from our failed marriage didn’t feel like a mistake. A goal, even a long-term one, helped ease the transition from partner to individual again. I’d been so used to being Avery’s everything, and then I was just…on my own. And I used that time to figure out what I needed. What I wanted. I don’t want to lose sight of that now. But with Ethan back in my life, it’s harder to focus. I know I don’t want to lose him again. But I can’t let him consume me, either.

  “I’m glad you’re doing what you love,” he says finally.

  “Me, too. How was practice today?”

  “It’s been good.” He cringes. “I almost hate to say that out loud. I don’t want to jinx myself this close to the beginning of the season.”

  “Still so superstitious.”

  Ethan has always had crazy routines when it comes to his games, from what he wears to how he prepares. I figured it would change over the years, but based on the preseason practice and exhibition game rituals I’ve witnessed so far, it hasn’t. Personally, I think it’s a little ridiculous, but I know Ethan takes it seriously, so I try to not make light of it too much.

  He gives me a lopsided smile. “It’s tough not to be, sometimes. The first year I played was probably my best, but then I started to slide. Now things seem to be going a lot better again.”

  “Why do you think that is?” I ask.

  “I dunno. That first year I pushed hard, maybe to prove I’d made the right decision. Then I had that chance to play for Minnesota, but I was already too late to come back for you. After that everything started going to shit. I kept getting further and further from where I wanted to be, and it felt like I’d given up all the things that made me who I was, apart from hockey, and it had all been for nothing. Maybe it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Anyway, preseason is going well. I might even get ice time right away. We’ll see how it goes.” I falter when we approach a fallen tree covering the path, and Ethan nearly collides with me. “I don’t remember this being here.”

  “Me, neither.” Although, it’s been years since I’ve gone for a walk down here, and this tree looks like it’s been here for a while.

  Merk goes under, pulling me against the fallen tree. It’s too tight for me to follow him so I have to awkwardly grab for the leash while I hoist myself over. I overestimate my agility and the slipperiness of the moss and land on my knee. My palm skids across the rough ground and I roll to my hip with an oomph. Merk barks his surprise while I shout mine.

  “Shit! You okay?” Ethan plants a palm on the moss-covered tree and hops over it effortlessly. “I should’ve gone first so I could help you.”

  I sit up and brush my palms off on my yoga pants with a hiss. I’m definitely going to need a shower after this. I’m covered in dirt and pine needles.

  Ethan crouches beside me. “Let me have a look.” He takes my palm b
etween his hands, inspecting the damage while Merk tries to fit himself between us so he can help, too. He barks when Ethan nudges him out of the way.

  “I’m fine. It’s just a few scratches.”

  “What about your knee?” He rolls my pant leg gently over my knee. It’s in worse condition than my palm, but it’s by no means terrible.

  “It’s not life-threatening. I’ll survive.”

  He shrugs the backpack off and unzips the front compartment, pulling out a small first-aid kit. His brow furrows in concentration as he carefully cleans the wound. As embarrassed as I am, I can definitely appreciate the care he’s taking in fixing me up. I also find it rather ironic that the hockey player is taking care of the nurse.

  I glance over at Merk when he barks, probably at another squirrel. He rubs himself on a tree next to the fallen one. I squint a little, sure it can’t be…but it is.

  “Oh my God. Look.” Ethan finishes bandaging my knee and follows my finger. “I thought you were so romantic for doing that. I didn’t even consider the poor tree.” Inside a knot on the side of the tree, DS + EK is carved for all eternity.

  “We were such environmental heathens.” Ethan shifts to run his fingers over the carved letters. “I hoped we would find this today. I kissed you for the first time right here.” He smiles, and then frowns at the downed tree resting against the side of the one with our initials carved in it. “This one almost took our tree down when it fell.”

  Ethan’s superstitions are mostly related to hockey. But he was a big believer in fate and things not just being coincidental. In high school he always wore the same type of boxers to practice. Home games had a different pair, away games yet another. If they made it into playoffs, he had a pair of socks he refused to wash until they lost. It was vile at the best of times, deadly at the worst.

  “Even if it had, it wouldn’t have been an omen,” I say softly.

  A small grin appears and he moves in close again, running a gentle finger from the bridge of my nose to the tip. “Stop reading my mind.”

  He’s always been sentimental, holding on to ideas and grounding them in something tangible, like initials carved into a tree.

  “I know how that mind of yours works, Ethan Kase.” I slip a hand behind his neck. “This would be a good time to kiss me, since I’m pretty sure that was the whole point of bringing me all the way out here.”

  His smile is soft, warm. “Mind reading again, huh?”

  I laugh a little, but then his lips are on mine, a whisper of touch. The rush of heat is instantaneous. Every part of our relationship has always been steeped in inescapable intensity. He sucks my bottom lip, then dips inside my mouth, tongue stroking velvet smooth against my own. His groan is low and needy, fingers twining in my hair as he angles my head to the side so he can go deeper.

  I part my legs as his knee comes between mine, and I have to use a hand for balance as he leans over me, tilting my head back so he can take control of the kiss. As teenagers, there were many occasions when we’d used the forest as our bedroom, but I’m not so sure I’m inclined to re-create those particular memories.

  A tickle along my arm distracts me. I assume it’s Merk, annoyed that he’s not getting enough attention, until a sharp sting on my side makes me gasp. And then another on my leg.

  “God, I love your mouth,” Ethan rasps against my lips, misreading my sounds.

  Several more sharp stings have me pushing on his chest. “Ow! Dammit, something keeps biting me!” I glance at the ground and realize it’s moving. “Holy fuck!” I crab crawl backward and jump up. Swearing a blue streak, I pull my tank over my head, swiping at the ants crawling all over me. The sheer number leads me to believe I disturbed a nest.

  “Get them off!” I scream like an idiot. They’re crawling up my legs, and now it feels like my entire body is covered in them. I kick off my shoes and yank my yoga pants down. “How the fuck did they get in there?” I’m still yelling because they’re literally everywhere and it’s gross.

  Ethan is doing the ant dance just like me, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping his shorts around his ankles.

  It feels like there might be a few in my bra, and I’m suddenly paranoid that they’ve found their way into my underwear. I stick a hand down the front—there is no back since it’s a thong—and check to make sure I’m in the clear. Ethan—who’s ant-free, apparently—has stopped his search to watch me.

  “Do you want me to check inside your bra?” His cheek tics.

  I pick my shoe up off the ground and throw it at him. “You jerk! Don’t laugh at me!”

  “Trust me—I’m not laughing.”

  His eyes roam over me in a slow sweep. I’m dancing around in a forest, wearing only a bra and a thong, and a pair of white ankle socks. Well, the soles are no longer white. “I can’t believe you’re checking me out! Stop drooling and start helping!”

  “Is that a thong?” He peeks around behind me. “Ah, fuck, it is.”

  He licks his bottom lip and takes a step closer.

  I point a shaking finger at him. “Oh no. No way. Don’t even think about it.”

  His grin is wicked. “Too late for that.”

  Even as miffed as I am, my nipples perk up, especially when I note the way he’s straining against his boxers. The sound of voices not too far off in the distance freezes us both.

  “Oh my God.” I rush to shake out my tank, making sure it’s ant-free. Then I quickly do the same with my yoga pants, yanking them up my thighs and over my butt. Ethan checks his own shirt and shorts—although he makes a point of watching me the entire time I dress. I’ve just slipped my feet back into my shoes when a couple of teens approach the fallen log. The girl who’s hanging off the arm of the boy she’s with shrieks when she sees us, apparently startled. She laughs and apologizes, then shrieks again when she notices the swarm of ants.

  “Careful, those bite,” Ethan says as they skirt the hazard, rushing off.

  Dusk is creeping in and the temperature drops as we make our way back to the truck. I can’t shake the creepy-crawly feeling or the shivers that run up and down my spine as I get in the cab.

  “You all right?” Ethan asks, cranking the heat when I run my hands up and down my thighs. Merk sits beside me, tongue hanging out, happy and oblivious.

  “I still feel like there are ants on me.”

  “Me, too.” He puts the truck in reverse. Pinks and oranges color the clouds in a pastel rainbow as the sun dips below the tree line. I can’t appreciate it the way I’d like since my focus is on the phantom tickle and sting of ants on my skin.

  “That didn’t go quite the way I’d planned.” Ethan squeezes my hand. “When we get back to your place, I’ll make sure you’re ant-free—sound good?”

  “You just want to get me naked.”

  “I’m pretty transparent, huh?”

  “Just a little, but I don’t mind.” I wink and settle back in my seat. I know I should focus on course work when I get home, but I want this time with Ethan. I don’t know how long I get to have him in my life again, or if he’s going to end up leaving, like everyone seems to.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Falling Back In

  Lilah

  Dips in the lake become a memory of another summer past, and hot days give way to the frosty mornings of fall. The official hockey season begins and leaves turn yellow, then sunrise orange before vibrant red flutters to the ground.

  Tonight we’re getting in as much one-on-one time as we can before he leaves in the morning for a five-day stretch. I have an assignment that needs my attention, but I’m wrapped up in Ethan, and with him gone starting tomorrow, I’ll have more time to focus on school.

  I shift away from his side and he makes a grab for me. “Where you going?”

  “I want to take a look at your ankle.” He rolled it last week during a game but powered through anyway, as men full of adrenaline tend to do. For a couple of days after, it was stiff and achy.

  “It’s fine, baby.�
��

  “Great. I still want to look, though.”

  “You don’t trust the team doctors are doing their job?”

  “I’m sure they’re doing a fantastic job. I just want to make sure you’re not playing it off as nothing when it’s really something.” I roll his sock off and check for any kind of residual swelling. It looks good, but I make him do range-of-motion tests and watch his face for signs of discomfort.

  “See, Nurse Delilah? Nothing to worry about.”

  “Someone has to make sure you’re not pushing when you should be resting.” I roll his sock back on.

  “I do have another spot you might want to check, though,” Ethan says before I settle back into his side.

  I sit back up, alert. “Did you pull something during practice?”

  He purses his lips and nods. “Maybe. It might be good for you to look at it.”

  “Where does it hurt?”

  “It’s more of an ache, really.”

  “Okay.” I nod. “A muscle ache? Maybe I can rub it for you.”

  “Oh yeah, that’ll definitely help. It might be swollen.”

  “Why didn’t you say something before?” I’m irritated that his doctors haven’t been more thorough.

  Ethan shrugs, chewing the inside of his lip. “It wasn’t a problem before.”

  “Well, let’s have a look. You might need heat or ice therapy.”

  “Heat therapy is probably the best.” He reaches down and pulls at the elastic waist of his sweats, where an erection makes itself known against the gray fabric.

  “Oh my God!” I shove his shoulder. “You jerk. I thought there was really something wrong.”

  “But there’s swelling, see?” He’s laughing now.

  “Don’t make fun of me!” I try to push away from him, but he wraps me up in his arms so I can’t get away.

  “I’m not. I love that you want to take care of me. It’s too bad you can’t be my personal nurse when I’m at away games. You could give me sponge baths after games.”

  “Wouldn’t you love that.”