If you’ve never been to Canada, there are several things you should know. It snows. A lot.

They have the best maple syrup ever known to man.

The beaver is their national animal, but I had yet to see one wandering down the street.

They don’t have dollar bills. They have weird coins called the loonie and the toonie.

It snows. A lot.

They also accept American credit cards—which was a good thing. Because of the Canadiens’ tight schedule, I hadn’t been able to return to San Francisco to get my stuff.

So until recently, all I’d had with me was the three days worth of clothes that I had packed for the Rocks’ road trip. And then just when I thought I was finally flying home for a few days, Montreal and the Eastern States were hammered with a snow storm. Flights were canceled. And once again I was stuck in my hotel room with no place to go.

Fortunately, there was this great invention called Skype.

“How’s my gorgeous little girl doing?” I said to my phone, the image of my three-week-old daughter peering back at me from the crook of Holly’s arm. She smiled—and I pretended her beautiful smile was for me and not due to gas.

“Daddy misses you and can’t wait to hold you again.” To hold her for the short amount of time I would be home.

And when I say short time, I meant two days—as in less than forty-eight hours. That was as much time as the Canadiens could afford to lose me for.

Lily made a little sound I interpreted to mean that she couldn’t wait for me to hold her.

The camera shifted, and both Holly and Lily came into view on the screen.

“She misses you too,” Holly said. “We both do. Any news yet if you’re coming home soon?”

“The team rebooked the tickets. I’ll be home Thursday.” In six days. “But I’ll only be there for two days.”

“That’s okay. We’ll be happy to get even that much.”

Holly’s smile? No, it didn’t fool me either.

“Trent got tickets for your game at the end of the month.” When the Canadiens were scheduled to play in San Francisco. “And it won’t be much longer before you’re back for the summer,” she added.

“That’s right,” I said. “But then who knows what will happen after that…”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to be a free agent soon.” Holly and I had already discussed this.

What did my becoming a free agent mean? It meant one of several things could happen.

The Canadiens or another NHL team might offer me a contract. If that didn’t happen, a European team might want me to play for them, which allowed me to keep playing hockey. The downside? I would have to move to Europe for a few years—which was worse than my current situation with the Canadiens.

And then there was door number three…

No one would want me.

I’d have to start a new life—a life that no longer involved hockey.

Yes, it wasn’t like I would be playing hockey for the rest of my life. At some point, all hockey players retired. Their bodies weren’t what they used to be. Their performance suffered. Or they decided other priorities in their lives were more important.

But if I retired, what would I do for a career? Hockey was all I knew.

Well, hockey and European history—but there weren’t a lot of opportunities involving the latter.

“But maybe San Jose, L.A, Anaheim, or Vegas will offer you a contract,” Holly suggested. “They’re closer at least.”

True—but it was a long shot that any of them were interested in me. And let’s not forget that there were seven NHL teams in Canada. Even if the Canadiens didn’t offer me a new contract, there was still a chance one of the other six teams would—and would be the only NHL team to do so.

Which put me in the same situation as now.

But I didn’t want to get into it on Skype.

Instead, I got Holly to tell me about her day and about everything Lily had been up to. And then I sang to my daughter like I always did.

By the time we were finished, Lily had fallen asleep in Holly’s arms—and all I wanted to do was kiss both of my girls.

All I wanted to do was make love to my beautifully hot girlfriend.

At some point.

Soon hopefully.

She still needed the okay from her physician.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” I told Holly after she had struggled to hold back another yawn.

“Okay.” Then a smile grew on her face. It was the same smile I’d frequently seen during her most horniest of months—when she was about to seduce me out of my underwear.

“And just so you know,” she said, “I have an appointment with my physician on Wednesday, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she gives me the okay to have sex.” She ran the tip of her tongue along her lower lip—and my cock grew hard at the memory of her soft lips around it.

Six days? Six freaking long days? I wasn’t sure I could survive one day—never mind six—before I was inside her again.

And then just like that, she ended the call—leaving me groaning.

“Goddamn tease,” I said, smirking at the blank screen.

She might have ended the call, but that wasn’t enough to wipe away the image of her smile and her lips from my mind.

I stalked to the bathroom, stripped off my clothes, and climbed into the shower. Hot water rained on me, filling the space with steam. I wrapped my fingers around my cock and gave it one long, firm stroke.

What was I thinking about as I jacked myself off? Holly, of course. Hot, naked-in-the-shower Holly.

It didn’t take long before the tingling in my lower back spread throughout the region. My balls tightened hard and my seed shot from me, accompanied by the primal grunt from between my lips.

It took me a moment to recover my wits and finish showering.

Was I satisfied? Not really, but it was enough to take the edge off until Thursday night.

And in the meantime? I would be sending the good doctor subliminal messages. Because come Thursday—if all things went well—I wanted to finally sink inside Holly again and enjoy her sweet heat.

I wanted to make a new memory that would help me get through the next few months.

And I wanted to talk to Holly about our future.

Together.