Mack Hollister doesn't expect much from life anymore.

At thirty-seven, he's got a job he likes, a beer league team that tolerates him, and a roof over his head. That's enough. Or so he tells himself.

His ex-wife's name is still tattooed on his bicep—not because he's still in love with her, but because laser removal is expensive and he's not sure what he'd cover it with. He's made peace with being alone. He's made peace with being tired. He's made peace with the fact that his best years might already be behind him.

But then you walk into his rink. Into his quiet routine. Into the carefully constructed walls he's built around himself.

And Mack starts to wonder if maybe he's not as done with love as he thought.

Because the thing about getting your heart broken is that it still beats. And sometimes, it beats for someone new.