Chapter Nine
Maggie
Brody didn’t know it, but I watched every single Harbor Wolves game he played in.
It didn’t matter where I was.
Working late in the office. In the gym. Eating takeout on the couch. I made sure to always have the game playing somehow.
I would never tell him. I think it would go to his head that I was obsessing over him like a high schooler with a crush. The same way I obsessed over tracking his flight each time he was flying home from an away game.
Truly pathetic.
But despite my long-running tendency at playing nonchalant, I could never stop myself from throwing myself at him the second that door opened.
Every damn time.
“Hi, Mags.” I felt him smile against my cheek, broad arms encircling me in warmth. “Did you miss me?”
“No.” I grinned, pulling away to look up at him.
“No?” He laughed.
“Well,” I hesitated, pretending to think about it. “I missed you keeping me warm at night. I get cold without you.”
“Oh, is that all I am? A personal heater for Maggie Brynn?”
I nodded.
If only he knew how right he was. Not just at night, but every moment—just the thought of him was enough to make my days feel like sunshine.
When he was gone, it was like a winter day. Cold, barren, bearable—but only just.
“Well, if that’s all I’m good for, you better put me to work,” he said, picking me up in a swift motion before leading us to the bedroom.
I squirmed, trying to break free from his arms before he tossed me onto the bed. I covered my eyes, knowing what was going to happen next. I couldn’t see it, but I felt the mattress sag under his weight when he leaped onto the bed beside me, wrapping me in an ironclad embrace.
I didn’t know I was giggling until he pulled my face toward him and laughed.
“I love that sound,” he said, before leaning forward to kiss me.
I rolled on top of him, planting kisses all along his cheek and neck and finally his lips—to show him what I wasn’t saying in words.
Yes, I missed you.
Yes, I’m happy you’re home.
Yes, yes, yes, I love you.
He sighed contentedly, brushing the hair behind my ears as I hovered on top of him.
“I missed you, Mags,” he told me, with that casual sincerity that always took me aback.
I didn’t know how he could do that. Just say what he felt all the time, without worrying what the response would be.
I didn’t say anything, just nuzzled down beside him and waited for him to tell me about his time.
“Recap?” Brody asked, and I smiled.
It was our ritual every time he got home. Our time to share what we’d missed while we’d been apart.
I nodded, waiting for him to start.
“Your brother hurt my feelings.” He fake-pouted. “And I won a hundred bucks in the casino.”
“How much did you lose?”
He winced.
“Six hundred.”
“Brody!” I slapped his chest.
“Hey!” He held his hands up to brace himself from attack. “Those little slot games are addicting. Plus, don’t they pump the air full of oxygen in those places so you don’t get tired?”
“How would that even work?” I shifted onto my side until I was leaning on his chest to look up at him.
“I don’t know, it’s just what I’ve always heard.”
“Poor, na?ve little boy,” I teased.
“At least I have you to teach me the ways of the world, huh?”
“It’s a good thing,” I agreed.
“And I have you?” He asked, unusually earnest. “For always?”
I nodded, frowning at whatever worries I heard in his voice.
“What’s wrong?” I shifted to look at him more intently.
He paused, eyes drifting off to stare at the wall behind me.
“I think Liam wants to quit the team.”
“What?”
“Not quit, I guess,” he amended. “But retire.”
“He’s only thirty-two,” I said, finding it hard to reconcile my young, active brother and the word retirement.
“Most professional athletes retire before they hit thirty,” Brody countered.
“But what would he do?”
I couldn’t imagine it. Not waking up with a purpose. Not having anywhere to be or tasks to complete.
I think it would make me feel empty. Lost. I probably wouldn’t last a week.
“Probably continue adding to the Brynn brood.”
I laughed.
“Which he could totally do and hold a job at the same time.” He paused for a beat. “Just like we could.”
“Brody,” I groaned, rolling off of him.
“What?” He sat up. “Don’t you want a little guy to hang out with you?”
“I have you,” I said, grabbing some clothes off the floor and stuffing them into the hamper.
I didn’t even know if they were dirty; I just needed a task to do.
“I mean a kid, Mags.”
“I know what you meant,” I said, moving around the room. “I was deflecting.”
Brody frowned.
“Don’t you think we’re getting to that point?”
“What point?” I asked. “Having kids? Just because I turned thirty?”
“It has nothing to do with age. I just feel like we’re ready.”
“How could you possibly think we’re ready?” I looked at him aghast. “You’re away multiple nights a week for hockey, and I’m working seventy hours a week.”
“You could cut back at work.” Brody shrugged. I made a noise of protest, but he continued. “Go part-time. It’s not like we’re pressed for money.”
“I like working,” I countered.
“I know you do, but you hardly have a life outside of it lately,” he said. “It wouldn’t hurt to have something else to focus on.”
“So what—you think the solution to me working too much is keeping me home with a baby that I have to take care of for the next eighteen years?”
“Why are you making it sound like having a kid is the worst thing in the world?” He drew back. “We always said it was in the plan for us.”
“Yeah, but when we talked about that, it was always more of a hypothetical, like in the distant future.”
And really, it was more Brody and all his comments like,
When we have a kid I can’t wait to teach them how to skate.
When we have a kid I can’t wait to get them a baby-sized jersey.
When we have a kid I can’t wait for all of us to go to the park on the weekends.
Always these minuscule scenarios with no regard to the practicality of what that life would actually entail for us.
“I mean, this is the future from when we talked about it.”
“Brody, stop,” I told him. “It’s not the right time. Do you get that?”
His face transformed, as if he were in the midst of some great epiphany.
“You’re totally right, Mags,” he said, taking a step toward me. I stilled, cautious. “I’m sorry, I just got excited. We’re not even married yet.”
“Right,” I sighed in relief, clutching at the excuse for why the timing wasn’t right. “That definitely has to come first.”
“I know,” he said as I let him wrap me in a hug. “Trust me, I’m on the same page as you there.”
I tried to relax, I really did. Tried to lean into him in the way that usually felt so safe.
But no matter how hard I tried to tell myself that he was right. We were on the same page. Nothing was going to change.
I couldn’t help but feel like I was on the edge of a precipice.