The Hockey Star Regret
Hayden leaned back in his chair, studying me with that easy grin that made my stomach do things it shouldn’t.
“So,” he said, “Favorite book of all time. Go.”
I groaned. “That’s impossible.”
“Top three, then.”
I rattled off a few, rambling about why they mattered to me. He listened, actually listened, even though I knew he probably couldn’t tell Tolkien from Tolstoy. Every now and then, he’d ask a question, not just to fill space but because he wanted to know.
And somewhere between explaining why The Hobbit was basically a comfort blanket and arguing that fairytales weren’t just for kids, the conversation turned more personal.