The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 196

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The drive took us away from the suburban streets and into the sprawling countryside. The road stretched endlessly before us, and my eyes kept flickering to Timothy to see his expression. Every time I’d ask where he was taking us, my questions would be met with evasive answers and a growing sense of anticipation.

“It’s about an hour–long drive,” Timothy said finally, though the mystery remained. “You’ll see when we get

there, Evie.”

I sighed, glancing out of the car window at the passing scenery. Any anxiety that I’d been feeling previously had given way to an intense curiosity. “Can’t you at least give me a hint, Timothy?”

He smiled, a faint, enigmatic curve of his lips. “Not yet, Evie. You’ll know when we arrive.”

The anticipation gnawed at me, but I decided to enjoy the ride and let Timothy maintain the shroud of secrecy. I spent the peaceful silence taking note of the rolling hills, dotted with patches of wildflowers.

When the car finally came to a halt, I looked around, trying to decipher our location. My heart skipped a beat when I realized we were parked near a pristine beach. The golden sand stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air.

My surprise was evident in my voice. “Timothy, we’re at a beach?”

He nodded, his eyes glistening with nostalgia. “This is where my mother and I were supposed to go on a trip. She had so many memories of this place, and we always talked about visiting together.”

The realization hit me like a tidal wave. Timothy had brought me here to honor his mother’s memory.

As we stepped onto the beach, a sense of serenity washed over us. The sand was cool beneath our feet, and the salty breeze carried the scent of the sea. I followed Timothy, each step taking us closer to the water’s edge, where the waves crashed with a relentless, rhythmic fury.

He gazed out at the horizon. “This was my favorite beach. Still is, actually,” he said. “She’d take me to it whenever I asked, and we’d just talk about anything.”

I glanced over at him. “She sounds like she was a lovely woman, Timothy.”

He turned to me, a warm smile on his face. “She was, Evie. She was my anchor, the one who always believed in

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help but feel a sense of gratitude for being here with Timothy, sharing in his memories and his love for his

gesture. “You’ve always been there for me, Evie. It

golden hues of the setting sun as Timothy and I strolled along the shoreline. The gentle lapping of the waves against the sand served as a soothing

and sandals. The idea of getting wet and sandy seemed impractical in my

his eyes, he turned to me and said, “Who said you had to be dressed for the beach to enjoy it?” Without further explanation, he sprinted toward the water and, with a joyful

emerged from the waves, water dripping from his soaked clothes. His laughter echoed through the salt–kissed air, and his face

he called, beckoning for me to join him. “The

a distant memory, was irresistibly inviting. With a tentative smile, I kicked off my shoes and, taking a deep breath, I ran toward the water, jumping in with

rush of both cold and warmth. The salty water enveloped me, and for the first

unable to escape my

escape

thighs for support, and suddenly I was every bit aware of how close we were. I stared into his eyes, glimmering with salt and sea, and my

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in a whisper, his breath fanning across my parted

hands began to trace the curves of my body, igniting a burning desire within me. The feel of his skin against mine only heightened the intensity as his muscles flexed

peel myself away, and his hands. were reluctant as they left my hips.

at the sign that was propped up on the beach with its listed

of wet footprints marking our path. The beach was deserted when we finally made our way back to shore, our bodies glistening with saltwater and sand. Together, we collapsed on the sand and stared up

Timothy declared, and his stomach growled soon after. “How about we find a

and the feeling of it was almost unfamiliar. “That sounds like a

of lanterns illuminating our path. The air was filled with the tantalizing scent of grilled fish and spices, and

view of the harbor bathed in the soft, romantic glow of the moonlight. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, as if this were

me today,” he said. “I needed

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