Page 47 of Puck Drop
The worry on his face makes me love him even more than before. “Why did you cry, Lizzie?” he asks.
I take a moment before responding to him. The fact that it’s almost morning and I have to go to work is catching up to me. In fact, this is going to be a huge problem in a few hours. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to get out of bed and make it to work on time.
“I criedbecause I missed seeing you in the game,” I finally explain to him. “I watched almost the entire game, but I missed the most important part.”
My voice shakes when I confess my sin to him. What is a minor thing to most is a huge deal to me. I hate myself for having missed his first time on the ice while on national television. I can feel my eyes going blurry from the tears that are threatening to spill.
“I’m so sorry I missed it,” I tell him. “I was on the phone with my friend, Mona, talking about you actually, when your text popped up to tell me that you had been in the game for five minutes, I wanted to die.”
Logan brings a hand to the back of my head and starts massaging at the hard muscles in my neck. It feels so good that if I wasn’t crying because I didn’t get to see him on TV, I’d be crying because of how good he makes me feel with this impromptu massage.
“Lizzie,” he tells me in a gentle tone. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m sure we can find it online somewhere, and we can celebrate it together.”
I shuffle under the covers to get closer to him until I can drop my forehead against his chest. His arms come around me, and I want to sigh in relief.
“It is a big deal, Logan. How many other times you can say that you had your first time on the ice in prime time?”
Laughter rumbles through his chest, making me smile at the way it vibrates against my cheek.
“You’re right about that,” he agrees. It doesn’t make me feel any better at all. “However,” he continues, “if it makes you feel any better, I was thinking about you while I was out there. I regretted not flying you over to watch that game in person. So, in a way it’s actually my fault that you missed it.”
Wiping the tears from my eyes, I try not to laugh at the spin he puts on this disaster. He truly is the sweetest man I know. I love him so much, and the fact that he keeps on coming back tome makes me feel secure. But every single time he is not with me, all these doubts creep in, shaking me to my very soul.
I don’t even know how to explain it, but when I am with him like this, I feel that I made the right choice by moving to Texas for him. Then, he goes away or, he freezes me out, like he did before, and I panic. Those are the moments when I just want to pack my bags and crawl back to my father.
“Thank you for trying to make me feel better, Lo,” I tell him.
He doesn’t respond to that, just continues holding me while his lips kiss me on the forehead every so often. I don’t think we’ve ever been in a bed and not did the deed. It feels funny, but it also feels right. It’s like we are a real couple.
I relish in his touch, as he runs his free hand up and down my back, then my hip and down my leg. When he gets to my knee, he brings it up and hooks it over his legs. The fit of our bodies is perfect. And I move around a little to try and get as close to him as possible.
My mouth stretches in a yawn so wide that it threatens to crack my jaw. I suddenly feel extremely tired. The more I relax against Logan’s body, the more sleep tries to pull me under. I am at a point where I can’t have a regular conversation anymore. I need rest.
“You have work tomorrow?” he asks.
Incapable of forming words, I just nod against his chest.
“You have to sleep, baby.” Logan pets my head with a gentle touch.
I mumble something in return, but I’m not really sure what I’m saying, so I don’t expect for him to respond, that’s why I’m surprised when he does.
“I can’t wait to see them tomorrow,” he says. “I’m sure they’re beautiful.”
In my sluggish mind, I’m thinking that I must’ve mentioned the drawings that I worked on tonight. The pain in my handsreminds me about my passion for art. The dread I feel at the thought of having to go to work in a few hours reminds me how much I hate that part of my life.
I remain wrapped in Logan’s arms, feeling a lot safer now that he is here. I am scared of what the future holds for us, but I am way too tired to come up with a plan. Besides, I shouldn’t be making any decisions on the fly anymore.
“Sleep, baby,” I hear as if in a dream. Logan’s voice sounds like it’s far away.
I let all my worries float away and enjoy just this moment with him. When he squeezes me closer, I want to do the same, but I am way too tired. He kisses my hair, smoothing back the tangled mess.
Sleep is so much closer now, and my body feels as if it’s floating on a cloud. Logan continues with his gentle ministrations of my body, each second more precious to me than the next.
“I love you,” he whispers in my ear.
Panic envelopes every fiber of my being, but I can’t tell if what I heard is real or only wishful thinking.
“Sleep, baby,” he repeats.
