Page 136 of Slap Shot

I’m glad to hear it.

See you soon, Knife Girl.

“Madeline.”

I roll over and wrap my arms around a pillow. Is my name coming from a dream? From real life?

“Maddie.”

It’s louder this time.

I yawn and crack open an eye. Moonbeams outline Hudson sitting on the edge of my bed, and I smile.

Real life, but one that feels like a dream.

“Hey,” I croak. “You’re home.”

“I am. And you’re asleep.”

“What? No.” I sit up and rub my eyes, flicking on the lamp. “I was reading my book.”

“In the pitch black? You sure are talented.”

“It’s too late for your sarcasm, Hayes.” I yawn again. My vision adjusts to the soft glow from the light. It takes a minute for my sleep-fogged brain to catch up, and I realize he’s home. He’s sitting in front of me with his navy-blue suit and his tie half-unknotted, and he’s so damn beautiful. “How was your flight? How was the game? I saw you were winning when I put Lucy to bed.”

“It was pretty boring with a 1-0 score, but we won.” He touches my cheek and moves a piece of hair away from my face. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I wanted to see you.”

“I’m glad you did.” My eyes bounce to his cheek, noticing a welt just above the scruff of his beard. “Holy shit. What happened to you?”

“Ah. I accidentally ran into the other team’s goalie after a missed shot. His teammate stood up for him and decked me in the jaw. I can’t be too mad. I would’ve done the same if anyone messed with Liam.”

“That looks like it hurts.” I should probably get him some ice. The purple and red mark is going to leave behind a nasty bruise. “Do you need anything?”

“I’ll survive. I’m already feeling better.” Hudson rests his forehead against mine and sighs. It sounds like he’s been holding his breath for days. “I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“Stay. I’m not tired anymore.”

“Are you sure? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Yeah.” I rest my hand on his chest and give him a gentle shove so he stands. I rise to my feet, wrapping his tie around my wrist. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Then I’ll stay put.” He takes off his suit jacket, dropping it to the floor. His attention stays on me when he unfastens thetop button of his shirt. “Anything in particular you want to do, Mads?”

I stand on my toes and brush my lips against his, desperate for him.

I’ve been waiting to see him. Waiting to see if my heart would still skip a beat when he smiles at me, and it does.

My draw to him isn’t just lust and infatuation. It’s feelings, real and true, and I want to do so many things with him.

I want to see him without any of his clothes on. I want to kiss his chest and trace the muscles he’s spent years perfecting. I want him to fuck me like we’re going to die tomorrow, but I also want him to touch me like we have all the time in the world.

I let out a shaky breath. I forgot how dizzying it is to be around him. How warm and tingly I get, all the way down to my toes. It’s like I’m drunk, tipsy at the sight of his smile. Intoxicated by his piercing gaze.

The buzz of anticipation sits at the base of my spine, and the excitement about what we might do, where this is going, sits low in my stomach.

“Do you want me to make a list?” I ask.

He runs his thumb down my arm. “I’ve always been a visual learner.”