“Hell, I had weeks of trouble getting to sleep because I was haunted with thoughts of you catching a glimpse ofmyboner before I rushed myself out the door in shame! They say you can never make up for lost sleep, eh? Well, at least we both know the truth now,” he sighed.
“Yeah. We’re both creeps,” I teased. “But that’s not it. I’ve got nearly a decade on you, sweetheart, and something about a high-profile career in the spotlight feels like it’s aged me faster than normal. Some days I feel a hundred and fifty years old, the way my joints are barely holding themselves together.”
As I spoke, Cade’s hand drifted toward my shoulder surgery scar. He ran the pads of his index and middle fingers over and over the raised skin, as if he was searching for the individual stitches that held my skin together.
“The good news is you don’t look a day over a hundred and forty-five,” Cade laughed.
“Brat!” I gave him a solid poke in the ribs in retaliation.
“I’ll go with you,” he began, his tone sobered. “I’ve never been to a seven-year-old’s birthday party. Not even my own. We werealways short on money, so there wasn’t any extra to buy other kids birthday presents. What do seven-year-old girls like?”
My heart broke for the young Cade who’d missed out on so much childhood fun between his father’s mishandling of the family’s money and his obsession with hockey.
I’d make sure things were different for Cade going forward. After all, spoiling the birthday boy definitely fell under the boyfriendpurview. It was practically written in stone.
“I can’t speak for all seven-year-old girls, but the one I’m related to is equally obsessed with ponies and Minecraft. I hope you are good with braided plastic hair and 3D video games projected on my parents’ sixty-five-inch living room TV.”
“I have exactly zero hours logged on specialized braid technique training. But I’m used to staring at a computer screen for too many hours playing Steam games, so I might have an in there.” He spoke solemnly.
“They’ll all love you for sure.”LikeI’m pretty sure I do.I held back the second set of words.
“I hope so.” His whisper was barely more than his lips moving against my chest.
As my eyes drifted closed, still holding tightly to Cade, I was determined that my family would show Cade that all he had to do was exist as himself to be adored.
twenty-eight
CADEN
The past few weeks had been nothing short of amazing. Between practices, games, and Ash’s rehab, we’d been spending as much time together as possible. While it was tempting to spend all that time in bed, we had also talked. A lot. Ash now knew more about my shitty childhood thanks to my dad, and I think he finally got how serious I was when I said I’d give up hockey in a minute. I wasn’t just throwing that out there to make him feel better about our relationship or to give him a way to save his career if we got caught—it was the god’s honest truth.
In return, Ash shared with me more about his life. He told me about his career in the NHL, his love of the game, and his constant worry over his shoulder injury and what it would mean for the upcoming season. We also talked a lot about his family. They sounded amazing and I was both excited and so damn worried to meet them.
What if they don’t like me?
The thought swirled in my brain for the thousandth time since we’d left Lakeside.
Considering it was only an hour-and-a-half-long drive to Ash’s parents’ house in the oldest part of Niagara Falls, I’dmanaged to cram an impressive amount of self-doubt into a very short period of time.
Honestly, it was probably some kind of record for me.
Watching Ash’s calm, content expression as he kept his hand on the wheel while holding my left hand entwined with his, had guilt creeping into my already nervous gut.
Ash had told me repeatedly that his family was cool and I didn’t have to worry about being anyone but myself.
But so far, being myself hadn’t really worked out for me in most social situations. With the exception ofKaitand Ash, who both seemed charmed by my shy, awkward interpersonal skills, I doubted that my instinct to stay quiet and out of the way was the key to winning over the family accustomed to Ash’s endless list of celebrity contacts.
“I can hear you worrying over there.”
Ash kept his eyes on the road but offered a supportive squeeze to my hand.
“That’s not a thing,” I argued.
“I see what I see, sweetheart. What’s the worst that can happen?” he reasoned.
“Oh, the worst would be if they thought I was some boring, dumb kid from up north who didn’t have any business being the boyfriend of one of the NHL’s most sought-aftercenters,” I blurted.
My nervousness had stolen my common sense, allowing my inner fears to spill out into the enclosed space of Ash’s Jeep.
