Cole:
Too late.
Ryan:
You’re fine. Breathe and drink some water.
Cole:
And don’t cry. Jesus Christ.
Me:
I’m not crying, but like… hypothetically if I did. It’s fine right?
Nathan:
Yes.
Cole:
No.
Logan:
I’m crying for you rn and it hasn’t even happened yet.
I lock my phone and let it fall on the couch beside me.
I glance at the time. We’re officially thirteen minutes behind schedule. And still no sign of my girl.
“Freckles,” I call out toward the bedroom, “I swear to god, if I get any hotter in this blazer, I’m gonna die in it and haunt this apartment forever.”
She just laughs from the other side of the door. Little shit. My lips tip up into a smirk anyway.
A little over five years ago, I flunked anatomy, got kicked off the team, and met her. I thought she hated me. And maybe she did, a little, but everything changed between us in a short amount of time. I think about the first time I kissed her. The first time she said I love you. The first time she called this place home.
I used to think love was a weakness, fragile… scary. I was so terrified of opening up to another person that way. But then Maisie looked at me, and everything in my chest cracked open.
I don’t have words for the way she changed me. I just know that every cell in my body bends toward her.
I breathe for her.
I skate for her.
Iexistfor her.
And now I want forever. I want her name next to mine. I want to call her my wife and see her wear this ring and never, ever take it off.
The bedroom door clicks open.
“Sorry, sorry,” she calls. “I couldn’t find my?—”
I look up. And my heart stops.
“Holyfuck,” I whisper.
Maisie pauses in the doorway, cheeks pink, lips curled in a shy smile. She’s wearing a dark red dress that hugs her curves and dips at the collarbone, soft satin that flows when she walks, and she has her hair pinned up, with a few loose strands falling around her face.
