Page 139 of Desperate Pucker
She chuckles and turns back to Maddy. “I guess it’ll be a battle of hockey versus figure skating for your future babies,” she jokes.
Maddy lets out a flustered chuckle. “Oh, we’re not…I mean…” She shakes her head, still smiling. “Actually, yeah. I’d love to have kids someday, and I’d love for them to get into figure skating like me.” She turns to me and flashes a knowing smile. “Hockey’s cool too though.”
My heart bounces around my chest. I know she’s just saying that to be polite, but my brain for some reason pulls up an image of Maddy and me skating together on a frozen pond, a tiny kid between us, holding both of our hands. For some reason, I picture a little girl. She has fiery red hair, just like Maddy, and brown eyes, like me.
I swallow hard and push aside the image. What the hell was that?
Amelia and her mom walk off after thanking Maddy. As she meets more of her fans, I can’t help but think about the future I picture with Maddy. And the strangest thing? It didn’t freak me out at all.
Chapter 48
Maddy
Isign an autograph for the last few people in line. I take photos with them and give them hugs when they thank me for meeting them.
I’m smiling so hard, my cheeks are sore. I can’t believe how much I enjoyed this. Everyone was so kind and gracious and sweet. I glance down at the pile of gifts on the table that people brought for me. A bunch of cards, letters, friendship bracelets, and flowers.
My heart swells in my chest. This went better than I could have imagined.
I glance over at Ryker, who’s packing up all my gifts into a bag. My insides go gooey at how supportive he’s been all day. He gave me a sweet pep talk that I didn’t know I needed when my nerves were going haywire at the beginning. He helped me take photos and chatted with anyone who seemed nervous.
That warm feeling inside of me deepens, wrapping tightly around my heart. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a boyfriend.
I give my head a little shake of disbelief. Two years ago, I swore off relationships. And then Ryker came along and flipped everything I thought I wanted completely upside down.
Right now, all I want is him. I just wonder if he wants me in the same way.
I push aside the thought and smile up at a petite woman who looks a little younger than me. She sets a notebook down on the table in front of me.
“Hey. It’s so great to meet you,” she says.
“You too. What’s your name?”
“Libby.” Her smile turns shy. “I have kind of a weird request.”
I brace myself, wondering what she’s about to say.
“Would you write something encouraging in my notebook?” Libby asks. “I struggle with depression sometimes, and it’s really helpful for me to read messages from people I admire. It helps me stay hopeful.”
Emotion surges through me. This is such a wonderful idea, and I’m so touched that she would want me to do this for her.
She fidgets with the bracelets on her wrist. “I was a gymnast for a long time, but I would watch figure skating because I thought it was graceful and beautiful like gymnastics. I, um, remember watching you at the Winter Olympics.” Her smile fades, and her expression turns pained. “I hope it’s okay that I say this, but the way you were treated by the media and fans was atrocious.”
Her big brown eyes go teary as she looks at me. She blinks quickly.
“I had a breakdown after a gymnastics meet years ago,” she says in a quiet voice. “I had an eating disorder, and I had so many injuries, I lost count. I couldn’t see straight, I was in so much pain. I messed up my balance beam routine, and my coach yelled at me in front of everyone. I just couldn’t take it anymore…”
She wipes away a tear that falls down her face. I reach over and grab her hand.
She sniffles and gives me a wobbly smile. “Sorry, I don’t mean to unload on you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry. Thank you for telling me. And for what you said about what happened to me. I went through a lot of what you went through too. I was injured too at the Winter Olympics. I was starving myself. And I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me.”
“Oh god,” Libby says.
“It helps me feel less alone to know that I wasn’t the only one to experience what I did,” I say. “I’m so sorry you went through all that too.”
She offers a small smile. “We made it, though.”
