Scoring with the Wrong Twin (Ice Chronicles Hockey #2)

30. Savannah

30

Savannah

I’m staring at my laptop screen, chewing the end of a pen that’s already suffered enough abuse.

My condo looks like a warzone—boxes piled halfway to the ceiling, suitcases lined against the wall, and a growing mountain of Post-it notes reminding me of everything I still have to do before I leave for Ecuador.

My phone buzzes with an alert from Pinnacle, but I ignore it for now. I’m pretty sure it’s another client in meltdown mode over their branding, and I’m too busy handling my own meltdown to handle theirs.

I’m planning to sublet this place—maybe even sell a bunch of stuff I don’t really need. I’ve decided minimalism is my new religion. If I can’t carry it easily, it’s gone. My former boss once told me traveling light is the only way to see the world. And hey, if I’m uprooting my entire life to move to Ecuador, might as well go all in, right?

But first, the real puzzle: How do I juggle my job from thousands of miles away? I flick open my email, scanning through the proposals and logistics. It’s not impossible—Aubrey already does half her work remotely. I can do it, too.

As long as I have a good internet connection, a working phone, and a shred of sanity, I’ll be fine.

Speaking of sanity, I decide it’s time to call Aubrey. She picks up on the second ring, sounding a little breathless.

“You caught me on a break,” she says. “The baby’s decided to host a dance party in my belly.”

I chuckle. “Any chance you can get that future niece or nephew of mine to keep it down? I’m trying to be a responsible adult here and plan my entire life in the next week.”

Aubrey snorts. “Sweetheart, if I had control over that, I’d be napping right now. So... you’re really going to Ecuador?”

“Yeah,” I say, blowing out a breath. “Sabrina and I haven’t spent quality time together in forever, and this city’s freaking me out. Brody’s lurking, and I just—” I hesitate, not wanting to bring up Blaze. But she’s not one to let me off easy.

“So, no second thoughts about going back to the ranch?”

I drum my fingers on the countertop. “Look, if Blaze wanted me to know what was going on, he’d say something. He texted a few times, left some voicemail about how we ‘need to talk,’ but he never mentioned Delaney or the baby. I’m not about to be the other woman, Aubrey. If he’s playing happy families with Delaney, that’s his business.”

She sighs. “Did you ever consider he might be waiting to talk to you in person? Maybe he wants to explain but doesn’t think a voicemail’s enough.”

My throat tightens. “Yeah, or maybe he’s trying to figure out how to cheat on Delaney with me. Not interested.”

Aubrey doesn’t answer for a moment, and I imagine her pressing a hand to her baby bump, deciding how to phrase whatever’s next. “Look, you have every right to be cautious. But there’s a big difference between being cautious and shutting down. You told me you love him.”

I swallow. Hearing her say it out loud hurts in a way I can’t describe. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, voice flat. “This is how it has to be. I’ll focus on work remotely, you’ll run things from the ranch, and in a few days, I’ll be sipping coffee in Quito.”

She lets out a small laugh. “You know I’m on your side, right? Whatever you need, I’ll make it work. We can sublet the Chicago office. There’s no point in paying rent on an empty space if you won’t be there. It’ll save us money.”

I allow myself a tiny smile. “You sure? I don’t want you to think I’m bailing on the festival last-minute.”

Aubrey tuts. “Please. You’ve done all the heavy lifting already. I can handle the final details, and you can pitch in via Zoom. Worst case, you fly back for a crucial meeting, but I doubt we’ll need that.”

Relief floods me. “Thanks, Aub. You’re the best. Seriously.”

“I know,” she says, smug. “Now, have you eaten? Or have you been living off coffee and stale crackers again?”

“Ha-ha,” I reply dryly, spotting a pizza coupon on my fridge. “I ordered a pizza, okay? Don’t worry, I’m still taking care of myself.” My phone pings with a text alert, but I ignore it for the moment. “And speaking of worry—how are you feeling? Any more weird cravings or squeamish mornings?”

Aubrey groans. “I can’t look at pickles without gagging, which is weird because I was obsessed with them last week. Pregnancy is insane. But the baby’s healthy, and Sean’s over the moon, so I can’t complain. Much.”

We both laugh, and for a split second, it feels like everything’s normal—like I’m not about to flee the country to dodge an ex-client-turned-stalker and the heartbreak I left behind. Then the apartment buzzer goes off, and the sound ricochets through my nerves.

“Pizza’s here,” I say, heading to my intercom. I pause in front of it, suddenly uneasy. “Aubrey, what if it’s not the delivery guy? What if it’s Brody?”

Her voice tightens. “Check from the window, Sav. Don’t just buzz in whoever’s down there.”

I head over to the living room window and crane my next to peer down, bracing myself to see some random creeper. Or worse, Brody. Instead, my heart catapults into my mouth. Standing there, hands jammed in his jeans, is Blaze.

“Holy... it’s him,” I whisper, throat constricting. “It’s Blaze.”

Aubrey gasps. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Gotta go.” I hang up without another word, my mind reeling. Of all the people who could show up at my door tonight, I never expected him.

For a moment, I just stand there, palm hovering over the intercom button. Then I take a steadying breath, heart hammering like crazy, and press it. Because maybe some things can’t wait until Ecuador. Maybe some things can’t be ignored. And maybe I’m ready to face him.