“I know.”
“We talked yesterday.” She reaches for the conditioner and works it through her ends. “He knows the deal. Look like a couple; don’t act like one.”
“Good.”
She glances up at me, something careful in her expression. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I can go sit by my dad. Addy would understand. Whatever you want. You have to be at your best tonight. Okay?”
“I know how my brother is.”
“What are you worried about?” she says with a smile, grabbing my cheeks and playfully kissing me, but I don’t smile.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.
“Do you trust me?” she asks.
“Yes, I do. I don’t trust Jamie.”
“After everything?” she asks with a lifted brow.
“You’re right. Maybe it’s nothing. I’m really glad you’ll be there tonight to see it go down. Supposed to be a close game.”
“Can’t wait to see you kick ass. Protect this face for me,” she says, kissing me sweetly. Her wet body presses against mine, and I melt into her. “Don’t get soft on me, Pattycakes.”
“I won’t,” I tell her, stealing another kiss as we wash one another.
We stay in the shower until the water runs cold, and then I wrap her in a towel. She makes coffee while I get dressed. By the time I’m pulling on my jacket, she’s holding out a travel mug with that smile that still catches me off guard.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she says.
“Can’t fucking wait.”
“And don’t let Damien get in your head. Don’t. He’ll make low blows.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I take the coffee and steal a kiss before I leave. She’s wearing my shirt and nothing else. It takes everything I have to walk out that door instead of carrying her back to bed. But the day is too important. Right now, I’m three points away from breaking my own single-season record during a rivalry game against the Cobras. Tonight, there will be a sold-out crowd, and while I live for this, I have to get my head right.
“I’ll see you after,” I tell her.
“I’ll be the one in the Cross jersey.”
“Which Cross? Choose wisely.”
She grins. “You know I’d never root for the Ice Slytherins.”
That makes me chuckle. “Perfect way to describe them. Evil fucks.”
“Be careful out there. You know they play dirty.”
“I will,” I say.
“Love you,” she singsongs.
“Love you more,” I say, shutting the door with a smile, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.
Some days, I wonder how I did it. I’m living my dream life.
The drive to the arena takes forty minutes, and I spend it visualizing plays, running through defensive matchups, and working on my mindset. The city flashes past my window, and I think about how much has changed. Three months ago, I was miserable, going through the motions of being a professional athlete. Now the woman of my dreams is mine; at this rate, we’re going to the playoffs, and I’m about to beat records. I never knew life could be like this, and I didn’t think I was capable of ever loving so deeply.
