“I was so desperate to feelsomething.” I let out a slow sigh. “I didn’t feel happy at my brother’s wedding, then you came along, and I didn’t want to let go. I normally wouldn’t come onthatstrong—not that there’s anything wrong with it—I’m just not usually that bold.”
“So did it work?”
I let out a laugh. “You could say so, yeah.”
“Why’d you run away?”
“It wasn’t you, I swear.”
“And you don’t want to tell me what it was?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, High-flyer,” Zach says, tugging me to him. I nuzzle his side, resting my head in the crook of his arm, breathing in the comfort of his scent. “I’ll wait. I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready.”
I whisper, “I’m glad you found me again.”
His fingers trace my arm in a way that tells me he cares. I breathe in deeply, safe, comfortable, happy. “Me too, Finley. Me too."
I’m not used to sleeping against another person, but opening my eyes to Zach peacefully lying beside me warms me to the tips of my toes. There’s a faint smile on his face, on those lips I kissed again and again this morning, spurred on by the ever-brightfeeling in my chest. One of his hands curls around my right shoulder, the other resting on his chest. I slip my hand into his, moving ever so slowly, not wanting to jostle him awake.
His eyes flutter open, and I soak in their beautiful brown color. Zach offers a sleepy smile when he finds me watching him.
“Hey,” he says.
“I see the appeal of naps now.”
Zach stretches his arms over his head, his shirt lifting to reveal a swath of toned abdomen and a dusting of dark hair around his navel. “I’ve taken a lot of naps, Finley, but this one might be my favorite.”
I brush a lock of his hair back from his forehead. “You’re very good at it.”
He laughs softly. “That’s me, excelling at those marketable skills.”
“Last time I checked, hitting a puck into a net is pretty marketable.” I gesture around us. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s how you got this sweet setup. Meanwhile, I’ve only got blood blisters and bruises to show for my efforts.”
Zach slips his arm out from behind me and shifts to his side. “What do you want to show for your efforts?”
I haven’t said it out loud to anyone. I’ve barely admitted it to myself, but deep down, I know. Not putting voice to this goal leaves me half-in though. It allows me to give it up, but I don’t want to keep living a life where I don't risk anything.
“I want back in,” I say, studying Zach, needing to see his reaction. “Getting onto UPC’s team is only the first step. I want the Olympics. I want a medal.”
Zach doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t scoff. No doubt creeps into his expression. He continues to stare at me intently, waiting for me to continue.
A nervous laugh bursts from my chest. “I’ve never admitted it to anyone.”
“Why not?”
“I’m past my prime. It sounds ridiculous, but twenty-one is ancient in gymnastics. Eighteen was once considered your last shot, but more women are staying in the sport longer, so it’s not impossible but … still a long shot.”
“You want it though?”
I nod.
“That’s all that matters then,” Zach says. “You think anyone from my hometown thought I’d make it to the NHL? I’d be picked in the first round? I’m five-ten, one hundred seventy pounds. You can throw a stone anywhere in Canada and hit someone whose dream is to play professional hockey. If I’d let myself think about the odds, I wouldn’t be where I am now. You have to put on blinders, Finley. You have to believe.”
He runs the back of his fingers over my cheek. “I believe you can, not that my opinion means anythin—”
I lunge forward, placing my lips on his, smothering the last words of his sentence. It takes a second before he kisses me back, one arm pulling me to him. He holds me snugly against his body, our lungs expanding and contracting in turn. A heartbeat pulses erratically, but with how close we are, I’m unsure whether it’s mine or his.
