Page 183 of Playing the Pucking Game
I stare at her, taking in her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
“We can do whatever you want to do. I won’t be offended if you want to just disappear into the guest room.”
She shakes her head and takes a step closer.
“I want to hang out. With you. Show me that not everything about tonight is fucked up.”
I nod.
I can do that.
Taking her hand, I lead her up to my room, praying that she can’t feel mine trembling.
47
LINCOLN
I’ve woken up at the same time every morning since I was a kid.
But this morning, there is one significant difference.
Parker.
She’s curled up beside me with her ass resting against my morning wood and her back pinned to my front.
I’m pretty sure it’s the best morning I’ve ever had.
I stay still, not wanting to wake her but needing a moment to enjoy this.
I didn’t plan on slipping into her bed last night, but the second I heard her crying, I didn’t know what else to do.
She needed me. Okay, so maybe she didn’t need me exactly, but I was the only one here who could support her, and there was no way I was turning my back and letting her sob alone.
Honestly, I expected her to turn me away the second my knee pressed against the mattress. But to my surprise, she relaxed into me. And even better than that: her sobs subsided.
I helped.
Pride flows through me.
But what is this morning going to bring?
If she were to wake up, would she freak out that I’m here?
Or would she be happy?
Will she even remember it?
That question causes pain to cut through my chest.
I close my eyes and hold her a little tighter, committing all of this to memory.
With a heavy sigh, I prepare to slip away from her. As much as I’d love to stay here until she wakes up, I need to get to the arena.
I’ll see her in a couple of hours. She’ll be at the bench during our morning skate. She’ll have her eyes on me. Okay, for a whole other reason than why I really want her looking at me, but I’ll take anything I can get right now.
My heart jumps into my throat as I go to slide my arm from around her waist. “No,” she mumbles sleepily before she grips onto me tightly.
She wants you here.
