Yet another reason I probably should’ve gone to the disability office sooner. But, as the saying goes, better late than never. At least he doesn’t shoot me one of thoseI told you sotype comments with the admission.
My gaze continues tracing over his features, studying and memorizing them. The bow of his lips, those cracks in his irises. The faintest freckles dotting his cheeks that are only visible when I’m really close. Even more so when he blushes, like he is right now.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
Shaking my head, I say, “I just feel like I haven’t seen you in a year.”
It might be a bit of an exaggeration considering the past month actually flew by; hockey, classes, and studying for exams taking up far more time than seems reasonable. But it also feels like a lifetime when all I want is to spend my free seconds with him.
He laughs, the addictive sound vibrating in his chest where my chin rests. “What are you talking about? You see me almost every day. And you’re in my bed practically every night too.”
I let out a little groan before dropping my cheek to his chest and squeezing my forearms along the length of his ribs, giving him a makeshift hug.
“Nope. Not enough. Might as well be a year. Maybe even two.”
He chuckles some more, and his fingers sift through my hair. The tips gently scrape against my scalp in the way I love, and it takes every goddamn piece of my self control not to moan ornuzzle into his touch like a dog.
“Well, the girls left for spring break after their midterms today,” he reminds me gently. “Which means we have the house to ourselves for a whole week.”
“Except I’ll be too tired to make use of it,” I mumble into his shirt.
Even with it being spring break, there’s really nobreakfor me and the rest of the team. We’ll still practice, have lifting sessions, and run through game film, all to prepare for the conference tournament in a couple weeks.
And after that, classes pick up, then it’s the playoffs, finals, graduation…
The thought causes a vise to clamp down around my heart.
At the beginning of the year, I couldn’t wait for college to be over. To get the hell out of here, hopefully get drafted, and move to wherever hockey would take me. But now, with the end looming just out of sight, I realize I’m not ready. Not when the end of the year also means the impending expiration date of our arrangement.
There’s not a single brain cell willing to contemplate what happens when we reach it.
“You got quiet,” he says, slicing through the doom spiral of my thoughts. “You fall asleep on me? Literally?”
“No,” I whisper, barely loud enough to hear.
Lifting my head again, I find him still staring at me. But his expression has shifted into something of concern, a tenderness softening his clay irises.
“What is it, baby?”
Fuck.
That endearment will be my undoing.
Who am I kidding? Everything about him has dismantled me, piece by piece, like a puzzle after it’s finished. And yet I’ve never felt more whole. Like the pieces he took out were nevermeant to be there in the first place, and he replaced them with what actually fits.
It’s a sense of belonging I’ve struggled to find for so long.
And with him, I’ve found it.
“I like you,” I finally whisper, though I know my L-word of choice is too simple to be the truth. In fact, it should be replaced with another altogether—one far more meaningful—but there’s a damn good chance the use of it would send him running for the hills.
So I keep it to myself.
Likeis okay, though. It’s safe. Comfortable for both of us, despite lingering on the edge of danger, and right now, that’s all I’m willing to risk.
“I like you too,” he murmurs, another small smile forming. “Even if you are crushing my ribs in with your giant hockey arms.”
The teasing remark has my brow arching. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Would you rather me use them to smother you with a pillow?”
