She frowns, her brow crinkling. “You don’t need to apologize, Cole. It wasn’t your fault.”
Only now, as I stare into eyes the color of the night sky, does my body relax. I’ve been on edge since the moment her skates left the ice and she flew backward. A shiver racks my body at the memory. “It was.”
“You can’t possibly blame yourself.” Her eyes widen like an owl’s. “How was an eight-year-old knocking me over your fault?”
My body tenses. “I should’ve been paying closer attention. I knew you weren’t confident on skates and?—”
She angles closer and rests her hands on either side of my face, her fingers pressing into my cheeks. “What’s going on? You heard the doctor. I’m fine. A tiny, baby concussion and some bruises, but that’s it.”
I lay my hands on top of hers, threading our fingers, and gently press my lips against her forehead. And then her right cheek, her left cheek, and her nose. Finally, I brush my lips against hers. She tastes sweet, like ripe cherries on a warm summer day.
“Nathan died in a car accident. He was T-boned while driving through an intersection and died from an epidural hematoma on the way to the hospital.” I close my eyes and blow out a shaky breath. “Head injuries set me on edge. Maybe that sounds ridiculous since I play hockey and get and give concussions regularly, but it’s true. Head injuries outside of a game are what freak me out.”
The words hang in the small pocket of air between us like a noose. Rationally, I know that the hit she took was nothing like what happened to my brother. But tell that to the tiny part of me that’s terrified of losing another person I love. Maybe I’m not in love with Maya yet, but the strings of it are there, and the more time I spend with her, the harder I’m going to fall. It’s inevitable, and it’s probably the only fall I’ll ever willingly jump toward.
With the tiniest “oh,” she wraps her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my chest. I lean into her comfort, luxuriating in her soft warmth and letting it thaw the layers of ice still protecting the memories of my brother.
“I’m sorry if I overreacted, and I’m sorry if I was short with you, but you’re important to me.” I tighten my arms around her and bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. “I don’t want to lose you, whether it’s because some dumbass kid knocks you down and you hit your head or because you walk away without giving me a chance.”
“Cole, I?—”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to say anything. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I know this is a severely inadequate response, but I’m sorry about Nathan,” she breathes. “I can’t even imagine what that was like for you. And there’s no need to apologize. If our positions were reversed, I’m sure I’d be just as concerned.”
My shoulders curl inward at her blanket acceptance. “Hmm. Now what do you say we get out of here, park our asses on your couch, and order an absurd amount of takeout? We can even pick up Goose on the way.”
With a dramatic sigh, Maya rolls her eyes. “You’re not letting me out of your sight, are you?”
For the first time in an hour, I crack a smile. “Good to know your concussion didn’t damage your intellect, bean.”
The sight of Maya and Goose curled up on her couch loosens the last bit of tension in my shoulders. My dog is very selective, so the instant way he took to Maya gives her an infinite number of brownie points.
Tucked beneath a blanket so only her head is visible, she glances from me to Goose. “I’m surprised you have a dog, given how much you work.”
I love how she sayswork, as if I’m a consultant or accountant. As if it wouldn’t matter to her one way or the other if I was. “He wasn’t exactly planned.”
“Cole,” she teases, “did you not use protection? Is Goose an oopsie baby?”
“Hardly.” I chuckle. “The Bobcats team up with a local animal shelter for a yearly calendar, and I was paired with Goose for the November photo. We bonded over grilled chicken and naps. He’d already been working on me with those puppy dog eyes, but when they told me he’d been at the shelter for a while, that was it. I knew I had to adopt him. And here we are.”
Maya sticks her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. And please tell me the players are shirtless in the calendar, becausethatwould raise some serious money.”
“So you’d buy one?”
She gives a firm nod, her eyes glittering. “To support the animals, of course.”
“Mm-hmm. Liar.”
“I always wanted a dog growing up.” She strokes through Goose’s soft brown coat, her focus fixed on him now, her expression a little distant.
“Your mom didn’t let you?”
She lets out a sardonic chuckle. “Oh, she would’ve. But then I would’ve had to take care of it on my own, and my plate was already a little full.”
“You can borrow Goose any time you like. I think he may like you better than me, anyway.” Not liking the solemness of her face, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind “Have you ever seenRocky?”
She scrunches her nose in confusion. “That was random.”
