She fits against me perfectly, her head tucked under my chin, her leg hooking over mine.
For a few minutes, we just breathe together again. I trace the stethoscope tattoo on her bare shoulder, and she draws lazy circles on my chest.
Then out of nowhere, Frankie murmurs, “So, a family wedding, huh?”
Mentally, I do a fist pump. That means she’s in. “Do you think you can get the time off?”
“Yes, probably. I’ll put in a request as soon as I get matched. It might just be for the weekend.”
“We can make just the weekend work. That might be long enough for a first visit, anyway. They’re overwhelming, but Ihope they’ll grow on you, since they’re going to be your family, too.”
She goes still against me, and I realize what I’ve said. Family. For someone who’s been let down by hers as many times as Frankie has, that word probably carries a lot of weight. For her, family has been a lot of work with very little reward.
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” she whispers.
I tip her chin up so I can see her face.
“It’s okay,” she says, her voice stronger. And her gaze doesn’t waver. “I’m fine.”
“I know you are.” I brush a soft kiss on her mouth.
“I bet you all go skating together. Very wholesome.”
I laugh. “Of course we do. I’ll take you skating any time.”
“I’m not sure I remember how. I don’t remember the last time I laced up. Probably before I was a teenager.”
“I’d love to teach you again.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Then there’s a pause, and she doesn’t look away, but there’s a tension in that pause, like she’s building a tiny wall to hide behind. “It wasn’t really my thing. I just wanted to read books, and my mom didn’t want to take me. It would have been my mom who took me, you know? She likes hockey, but she likes it in the fancy facility, WAGs get all the attention kind of way. Not a community rink kind of way.”
I frown. I’ve met her mother a few times, andWAGs get all the attentionisn’t my perception of Melissa Wilson. But to be fair to Frankie, she maybe doesn’t seem like the type of woman to take her daughter skating, either. She’s more delicate than her daughter in every way.
“That’s a shame, I’m sorry.” And I’m really fucking sorry that Wilson didn’t take her skating himself. “I love a community rink. I’ll find us a good one in the summer.” I pull her closer. “Listen, I know I said this earlier, but I want to be really clear aboutsomething. When I come here this summer—and Iamcoming here, so the house hunting is a real priority, or Sloane and Liz are going to see me striding ass naked to the bathroom a heck of a lot—I’m going to have time for you. Real time.”
Her breath catches.
“I do need to train,” I continue. “But that’s a few hours a day, while you’re working. Every night, I’m yours. And I won’t mind if you’re busy, or if you have to work overnight, whatever the residency requires.”
She’s crying now, silent tears that I can feel against my chest.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, concerned.
“No.” She shakes her head. “You said something very right. I just—” Her voice breaks. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”
I hold her tighter, letting her cry it out. Letting her release whatever she’s been holding onto for all these years.
“Summer was supposed to be my favorite time,” she says eventually, her voice muffled against my chest. “When Dad would finally be home. But then he’d be running camps, or coaching somewhere, or doing clinics. Always hockey. Always something else more important than just... being with us.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it. “That must have been really hard.”
“It was what it was.” She wipes her eyes with the corner of the sheet. “I learned not to expect too much.”
“Well, you can expect a lot from me.” I kiss her forehead and choose my next words very fucking carefully. “I’m not going to be like your dad. Yeah, I’ll work out. I’ll skate. But you’re my priority. You and me, building this life together.”
She studies my face for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Okay.”
