“Ollie, this next song is your surprise. You’ve changed my life. I just wanted you to know, you’re not a hockey player. You’re my hero.”
She stares at Someone in the mirror.
She laughs like her
She cries like her
She smiles, lies, and hides like her.
She believes like her.
She breathes like her.
Her heart beats and bleeds like hers
She sees like her
She loves like her
But it’s not her anymore.
You see…
She’s free.
EPILOGUE
GENEVIEVE
The opening show of the Farewell Tour was a huge success. I loved every minute on stage, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t counting the seconds until it wrapped so I could kidnap Oliver back to my house. It’s our last night together before I leave for the two-month tour, so of course we spend it the only way two passionate lovers would: learning to play hockey.
I glare at Oliver as he snickers again at my stance in the open space of the family room.
“Stop laughing! I’m doing what you told me! You said to crouch down and tuck my elbows in.”
“Yes, but not like a rabid chicken,” he snorts, snapping a picture just as I raise the stick at him. “Also, you’re holding the stick backward, all-star.”
“Hey! No pictures. It’s bad enough my security cameras are probably catching this. I don’t need you to have permanent evidence.”
“You kidding? I want photos, video, and sealed archives. You’re doing great,” he lies, stealing one more picture of the silly face I give him before tucking his phone away.
“You just called me a rabid chicken.”
“I said you looked like a rabid chicken. Big difference.”
“Grr. How about you quit making fun of me and show me instead?”
He grins and moves behind me. “Gladly. The hockey gods must be appeased after this violation. Here, so you need to squat, yes, but also keep your back straight. Shoot your butt out. No, not like that. Um, like you’re sitting on the toilet.”
I fire a look at him and giggle at his expression. “Oh my gosh, you’re serious!”
“Of course I’m serious. Yep, like this.” He places his hand on my back, positioning it, then slides to my butt to mold that as well. Suddenly, I don’t mind this so much.
“Like this?” I ask, purposely jutting my rear further out of alignment. He shakes his head, then smirks when he catches on.
“You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you,” he says.
“Oh, you mean like this.” I shove my left leg out and hold the stick above my head in the most ridiculous pose. My laugh becomes a yelp when he scoops me up from behind and swings me into his arms. I drop the stick, laughing as he carries me over to the couch.
“I’m pretty sure I won’t stop many goals from the couch,” I say as he lowers me to the cushions.
“No, probably not.” That smile, though. Stops my heart. I link my hands around his neck and pull him down.
“I have a better idea,” I breathe against his lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I thread my hands in his hair as he stretches out on top of me. His left arm braces on the cushion beside me; his right slides behind my back to force us together. I moan as he hardens against me, and I hook my legs around his.
Our kiss intensifies, our bodies instinctively finding each other in all the right places. I gasp as he presses into my hips, releasing his hair to shove my hands under his shirt. I pull until he helps me yank it over his head. I’m already dreading our separation. It could be weeks before we manage a rendezvous. Weeks before I feel his warm skin and hard body, taste his sweet kisses. Talk about wanting to preserve a moment.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I whisper.
“I know—”
My phone rings. Nope. Not gonna happen. Grunting, I pull it from my pocket and drop it on the floor. “Ignore it,” I say, dragging him back and resuming our kiss. But he pulls up.
“Maybe you should—”
“Oliver, not now. Right now I need you inside me, got it?”
His eyes ignite with heat and humor, but he still doesn’t seem convinced. Seriously? What guy wouldn’t be swayed by that? His gaze travels to the device I discarded on the floor. “Okay, but it’s Sam.”
“What?” I cry, bolting up. He smirks as he straightens to let me free. I snatch the phone from the floor and swat the hair out of my eyes. “Hello?” I answer on the third ring.
A wry laugh greets me, and my heart races. “Genevieve? Oh my goodness. It’s true then.”
With a huge grin, I drop back to the cushion. “Hey, Sam. Surprise.”
“You’re Viv Hastings? I can’t believe it… and yet, I kind of do.”
Oliver reaches over and pulls me against him on the couch. I settle into his chest and adjust the phone. “I hope you’re not upset. I wasn’t trying to deceive you. I just wanted Viv to be who she was meant to be. I didn’t want Genevieve Fox to have any influence on her career.”
After a slight pause, she
