43. Maverick
FORTY-THREE
“Areyou sure it’s okay I stay over?” Emerson takes off her sweater and jeans and exchanges them with one of my old T-shirts. “We’ve never had a sleepover before a road trip, and I don’t want to mess up any of your pregame rituals.”
“The only pregame ritual I have these days is touching you. Besides, we don’t play until the day after tomorrow. There’s plenty of time to make sure my routine is right.” I pull back the sheets and pat the spot on the bed next to me. The pillows have started to smell like her shampoo—citrusy and flowery like on a warm summer day. “Please stay.”
“Okay.” Her mouth twists into a pretty smile. I know she’s trying not to look too excited, but I see the cute little wrinkles around her eyes. The way she hurries over to the mattress and plops down next to me. She wants to be here just as much as I want her here. “Only because you said please.”
“I can be very persuasive.” I open my arms and she nestles into my embrace, her head on my shoulder and her hair all over my bare chest. I sigh at the press of her body against mine, her skin still warm from the shower we shared after we cooked dinner and split a bowl of ice cream. “Where does Piper think you are tonight?”
“Oh.” Emmy hides her face. “I may or may not have told the girls we’re seeing each other,” she admits. “There was wine and pizza, and everyone else was sharing parts of their lives. I wanted to share something, so I kind of let it slip that we’ve been sleeping together for months and now we’re dating.”
“I don’t care that you told them.” I smile and trace the freckles on her shoulder. I spell out the word mine and add a little heart at the end. “I’ve been wanting to shout from the rooftops that you’re my girlfriend for a while now.”
“You’re not allergic to that word, are you? Do you understand what it means?”
“Says the woman who told me she doesn’t date hockey players. I know what that word means. It means I’m yours and you’re mine. You make me happy, and I hope I make you happy too.”
“You make me happy,” she says softly. “You make me happier than anyone else ever has.”
Pride swells in my chest. It takes everything in me to not grin like a total idiot, and it feels like I’m flying. “I can’t lie and say I’ve ever looked forward to going to Detroit, but I am this time. Are you excited to see your dad?”
“I am. I’m also nervous. I want him to have a good time, and I want to play well. But then I know I won’t be too mad at myself if I don’t play well, because he’s still going to be proud of me no matter if we win or lose. It takes some of the pressure off.” Emerson tips her chin to look up at me, and I kiss her forehead. “Does that make any sense?”
“Perfect sense. At the end of the day, him being there is more important than the outcome of the game.” I rub my palm down her arm and smile. “But we’re going to win.”
“You really might be the most confident hockey player I’ve ever met.”
“Trust me, it’s a curse.” My hand falls to the middle of her back, and I sigh again. I don’t know what kind of magical powers Emmy has, but whenever she’s in my arms, I’m totally at peace. “We’re all set with the van. I convinced Coach to push morning skate back to ten thirty, so we can leave around six, grab your dad by eight, then be back in time to ride the team bus to the arena.”
“Do any of the guys know you’re coming with me to get him?” Emmy asks, her sharp green eyes watching me.
“Hudson does.”
“Does that bother you?”
“What? That he knows you and I are spending time together?”
“Yeah. That’s not something you usually do.” She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I’ve done a lot of things with you, baby, that I haven’t done with anyone else. One of my best friends finding out about our relationship doesn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, I’m excited about it.” It’s my turn to shrug. “I was serious when I said I want to hold your hand in public and show you off. Now there’s one less person to hide it from. Hudson is all for it. He said he’s happy for me, and that’s pretty damn cool.”
“Be honest.” Her fingers loop around my silver chain and give the jewelry a gentle tug, urging me closer. Our mouths are inches apart, and I brush my nose against hers. “How terrible is it to not be single anymore?”
I pull down on her bottom lip with my thumb then cup her jaw. I’m so fucking desperate to touch her. “I would say I wish I had gone off the market sooner, but that means I wouldn’t be with you and… I don’t know. Not to get all cheesy and shit, but you were worth the wait. I like learning how to do this with you. I like learning that you hog the covers and have to sleep with one leg on top of the sheets.”
“It balances out my body temperature,” she argues, and I grin. “You’re smiling at me. I like it when you smile at me.”
“You used to hate it.”
“Not so much anymore. Is it silly to say I’m excited for you to meet my dad? I’ve never introduced him to any of my boyfriends before, and I’m glad that you’re the first.”
“How the tables turn. Five months ago you would’ve laughed in my face if I asked to meet your dad. Now look at you. You’re grinning, Red.”
She swats at my chest and I curl my fingers around her wrist. “I am not.”
“You’re a terrible liar. What’s your question of the day?”
“We’ve done so many of these, I’m afraid I’m going to run out of things to ask soon.” Emmy sighs. “Can you go first tonight?”
“Sure. What are you most proud of in your life?”
“I miss when we talked about birthdays and favorite colors. Now we’re getting into the real deep stuff.”
“I mean, I could ask your opinion on time travel instead.”
“I don’t even know how to begin to answer that.” She wiggles in my arms and closes her eyes. “I think I’m proud that I haven’t let the noise surrounding the sport I love get too loud. I wasn’t sure I was going to last in this league, not because I doubted my capabilities as a player, but because of the outside factors that tried so hard to get me to fail. The social media comments. The signs at away games telling me I don’t belong on the ice. I proved them wrong, and I found a place where I want to stay for a long time, with a person I want to be with. That’s never happened before.”
“I’m proud of you too. I don’t know if I say it enough, but fuck, Em. You remind me why I fell in love with skating.”
“Thank you. Now you have to tell me what you’re most proud of.”
“Not killing Cole Meyers,” I say, and she snorts. “I’m serious. I was ready to end that motherfucker with my bare hands, and I would’ve strangled him, if I had the chance. It’s a shame the refs got involved.”
“I can take care of myself just fine, I have been for years, but watching you stand up for me… I felt like I was yours for the first time. Like I had someone who would be by my side, no matter what.”
I write the word mine with her freckles again. Mine, mine, mine.
All mine, for as long as she’ll have me.
I hope it’s forever.
“You are mine,” I tell her, and it sounds like there’s something else trying to sneak through.
Something I swallow down and replace with a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then the spot below her ear that earns me a pleased groan and a gentle roll of her hips. I switch our positions and ease her onto her back, my hands on either side of her head. Her hair is spread out on my pillows like wildfire, and when her eyes lock on mine, I think lightning strikes.
“Show me,” Emmy whispers, and her fingers find the tiny space on my bicep without any tattoos. The lone square of my skin that hasn’t found a permanent piece of art yet. I swear she writes out her name with pink nails and a hot press of her mouth. “Show me how much I’m yours.”
Time skips ahead after that. There are clothes, then there aren’t. I touch her everywhere and she touches me. I kiss her as I sink inside her and she threads her hands through my hair when she comes, the quietest little laugh at the back of her throat.
After I clean her up and burrow my face in the back of her neck, it still feels like I’m forgetting to tell her something, but I don’t have a goddamn clue what it is.