Her sly smile fades, making my breath quicken. Neither of us speaks. It’s like sudden death, the tension so thick, it’s nearly boiling over. My heart rams so hard against my chest, I’m at the point where I will ramble nonsense if I open my mouth. I said what I needed to say. Now I wait for her to respond.
She raises her hand up, covering my hand that still rests on her cheek. Her skin is satiny, soft and smooth, and it causes my breath to hitch in my chest. All I want to do is lean over and kiss her, but she’s so still, I freeze too.
“Tell me what that means,” she whispers, “to be all about me.”
“It means, I want to memorize every smile you have. I want to sit at this table with you and eat cold take out, talking for hours about anything and everything. I want to look up and see you in the hockey stands during my games. I’m not going to make any promises I don’t intend to keep. Maybe that’s not enough, and I know we just met each other, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what that means, but I want to find out.”
She’s quiet, but her eyes fill with longing, and I know that look. It’s the one she gave me last night before I kissed her, and I’m no fool.
I slide my hand down her neck, curling my fingers to pull her close. She doesn’t resist. Her eyes flutter shut right as my lipscapture hers. I lean forward, dragging my lips slowly over hers, wanting to consume her with all my senses. Inhaling, I drink in her scent—indescribable. Addicting, yet subtle. I can’t get enough of it, and I’m left breathless as I pull away before our kiss turns to anything more than sweet.
A breath shudders out of her as she stares back at me. I’m still holding her hand, and I raise it to my lips and press a chaste kiss to her knuckles, letting my lips linger for just a few seconds. None of this makes sense, but at the same time, I don’t care.
Epilogue
A Year Later
“Did you think I forgot about you?” Jackson says as soon as I open the door. It’s an hour after a home game, and no one is celebrating because it was another loss. Surprisingly, he’s actually grinning.
“I know you didn’t forget.” I rise to the tips of my toes and tilt my chin up, pressing a chaste hello-kiss to his lips. “I’m used to the insane amount of time it takes you to remove all your gear. And double-check for your glove eighteen times.” I open the door wider, stepping to the side so he can enter. “Did you guys go out?”
“No.” He slips his shoes off, setting them neatly next to mine. “I was in a hurry to get over here. I knew if I didn’t, you’d be sleeping by ten.”
I laugh because it’s true. It’s Chase’s night to have Bella, and I’m exhausted. I graduated last spring without a job offer, so I started substitute teaching this fall. Every day it’s a different classroom, with a new set of kids, a new set of rules. It’s enoughto make my head explode. By the time Friday rolls around, I’m ready to fall face first onto the couch and go into a coma. “Sorry about your game.” I take the to-go bag from his hands and drop it on the center of the table.
We are the biggest homebodies on the planet, and we’ve developed the most basic routines—routines that are consumed completely in each other. I can’t help but think I’m the luckiest woman. I don’t need fancy dinners or dates. Just someone to share my time with.
Someone who gets me.
That Jackson does.
It’s never just the bare minimum with him. He spoils me with the little things, like date nights at my place when I can’t stand to be in public. He always shows up for me and Bella, taking care of the little things—even the big things, like when he spoke to Chase about showing me more respect. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it, but having Jackson around has made Chase more punctual with his time with Bella. It might be in my head, but Chase even seems a little more attentive when they are together. It’s not a miracle by any means, but it’s progress.
Jackson drops into the chair that Bella now refers to as “Jackson’s spot” and takes his burger out of the to-go box. “How was teaching today?”
“Good.” My eyes are heavy, but my heart is full as I shift my face to his. It’s a lot to sub every day, but I love it. “I was in sixth grade today. So, the fractions were fractioning a little hard for a Friday. I had a couple extra cups of coffee, but I made it through.”
“I hate when fractions fraction too much.” His smile is easy, and I notice his facial hair is shorter than normal. Usually he keeps it scruffy, often going several days without shaving. I don’t prefer it one way or the other. I enjoy never knowing what I’m getting.
I smile, watching as his eyes bounce from my lips to my eyes. His lips move as if about to say something, but then he sighs and drops his attention back to his burger.
“Everything okay?” His lips are set into a bit of a grim line, and I can’t help but think something is off.
“Fine.” His brows pinch as his gaze drops to my shirt. “I was looking for that sweatshirt for like an hour this morning.”
“This sweatshirt?” I playfully bat my lashes and pull the hooded collar tighter around my neck. “I might have swiped it from your hamper the other day.”
“You don’t have to steal my dirty laundry.” He tips his forehead closer. “I can get you a clean one.”
“I love the ones that smell like you.” I laugh, shrugging. “Plus, I know how to do laundry. If I wanted it to be clean, I would wash it.”
A soft laugh gusts from his chest as his eyes latch onto mine with intensity. “I know you know how to do laundry. Remember?”
“Oh yes.” I throw my head back laughing, thinking back to meeting him at the laundromat. I had no idea what I’d really found that day when I picked up that glove—but if I’ve learned anything about Jackson the last year, it’s that he’s obsessed with it. He never lets it out of his sight. I’m still waiting for the “luck” to kick in though, because the team is on a losing streak. I sigh, adding, “I’ll never forget your lucky glove.”
“You can’t say it’s not your lucky glove too.” He leans back, pointing a finger toward me.
“Mine?” My face must have been colored with confusion, because we both know that even after months of going to games, I know very little about hockey.
