“Daddy!”
I catch her, swinging her up into my arms, and the tightness I’ve been carrying in my chest for the past few days finally loosens. She smells like strawberry shampoo and maple syrup, and she’s wearing a glitter crown that’s shedding sparkles everywhere.
“Hey, shadow. Nice crown.”
“Lily made it for me. We’re princesses.”
“I can see that.”
Bree leans against the doorframe, looking exhausted but amused. She’s got a twin on each hip—Luke is half-asleep, and Lily is waving a glitter-covered wand that explains a lot about the state of my daughter’s hair.
“She was an angel,” Bree says. “Honestly, the easiest kid I’ve ever watched. Unlike these two monsters.”
“I no monster!” Lily protests. “I’m fairy godmother.”
“My mistake.”
I shift Maisie to my other arm. “Thanks again, Bree. Seriously. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” But her eyes are knowing when they meet mine. “How was the trip?”
Three wins. Two assists. A hat trick for Logan. And yet somehow, none of that is what replays in my head when I think about the trip. No, my brain is stuck on a sidewalk in Detroit, Tori’s face tilted up toward mine, her breath catching when I touched her jaw, waiting for a kiss I didn’t let myself take.
“Good,” I say. “We swept all three.”
“I saw.” She’s still watching me with that look—the one that says she sees more than I’m saying. Archer probably tells her everything. “Well. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Actually, the agency’s sending someone tomorrow. Another interview.”
“That’s great. Fingers crossed.”
“Yeah.” I’m not holding my breath, but I don’t say that. “Thanks again.”
Maisie waves goodbye to the twins as I carry her to the car, chattering the whole way about princesses, glitter, and how Luke tried to eat a crayon while Lily told on him.
Maisie. Home. Real life.
This should feel like enough. It’s always been enough.
I don’t know why it suddenly feels like I’m missing something I never had in the first place.
• • •
The gym at the practice facility is nearly empty when I get there the next morning. Just Banks on the bench press and Logan doing something with a resistance band that looks vaguely obscene.
“Bish!” Logan grins when he sees me. “You’re alive!”
“Why wouldn’t I be alive?”
“I don’t know. You disappeared pretty quick from the bar the other night.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Walk Tori back to the hotel?”
I grab a set of dumbbells and don’t look at him. “She was tired.”
“Uh-huh.” He grins at me, waiting.
“It was late.”
“Sure.” His smile grows.
