Page 95 of Power Play
I grin. “And you’re keeping that haunted cupboard energy on standby in case I change my mind.”
“Done.”
We sit for a moment, the air full of all the stuff we haven’t figured out yet. But it doesn’t feel like a fight. It feels like the messy, honest middle part of something worth working out.
I kiss him then, long and slow, and for once there’s no noise in my head. No overthinking. Just him, just me, just this.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
MURPHY
My knee’s acting up again.
Not that I’m going to admit it to anyone besides Mia, but it’s got that low-level ache that hums just beneath everything else. Not sharp enough to bench me. But it’s enough to make the last two games feel longer than they should, especially with the way I’ve been trying to impress a certain pocket-sized hurricane with red lipstick and a raised eyebrow that can level a man.
The rink’s quieter now, post-practice lull hanging in the air like the smell of stale sweat and triumph. Mia’s setting up in the treatment room, already in full no-nonsense mode. I slide in, pretending I’m not limping.
She doesn’t look up. “Murphy. You’re not fooling anyone.”
“Bit harsh,” I say, easing onto the treatment table. “Could’ve at least pretended I was subtle about it.”
Mia finally glances at me, smirking. “You? Subtle?”
Fair. “Touché.”
She grabs her tape and gestures to my leg. “How long’s it been bothering you?”
I shrug, the universal language of ‘too long but I’m too stubborn to say it out loud.’ She sighs, peels up my compression sleeve, and starts palpating my knee as though it personally offended her.
I wince. “Christ, Clarke, maybe buy me a drink first.”
She snorts. “That line work on Sophie?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Actually, yes. Because I’ve heard she’s still debating moving in with you, and I’m trying to gauge if she’s lost all her sense or just most ofit.”
I lean back on my elbows, watching her with a grin. “So shehasbeen talking to you.”
She arches an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”
“Let’s say hopeful.” I tilt my head. “So? What’s the verdict?”
“She’s sceptical. And smart. Which you already know.”
“Course I do. I like that she doesn’t just roll over and say yes to everything. Even if it’d make things easier.”
Mia applies a little more pressure and I groan. “Yeah, well. You’re asking her to give up her place, her space, her autonomy. That’s a big ask. She’s not some puck bunny who’s gonna leap into your bed full-time because you’ve got a decent jawline and a shelf of takeaway menus.”
“Decent?” I feign offence. “I’ve been called devastating.”
She laughs. “Devastatingly full of it, maybe.”
There’s a pause. She tapes up my knee with practiced efficiency. I watch her fingers move, steady and sure.
“I’m not trying to crowd her,” I say, quieter now. “I just don’t want to waste time. I’ve done the meaningless stuff. The short-term. The casual. This feels real. Something I want to protect, not tiptoe around.”
Mia softens. “Then don’t push. Let her come to it in her own time. If it’s real, it’ll happen. You just have to be patient.”
