Page 153 of Puck Me Back to Life

He cleaned my apartment without making me feel ashamed.

He skipped practice for me.

He held me while I cried.

I stare out the windshield. What exactly am I giving him? The question sneaks into my thoughts before I can stop it. Relationships—whatever ours is—are supposed to go both ways.

Ash keeps taking care of me. What do I do for him?

He has never asked me for anything besides honesty. Even then, I don't think I'm giving him enough. The thought follows me until the familiar outline of the arena comes into view.

My stomach immediately knots.

Ash turns into the players' parking lot and backs smoothly into his usual space. The truck falls silent. I stare through the windshield. Every heartbeat pounds hard enough that I can feel it beneath my ribs.

For a second, I wonder if I'll actually be sick.

Ash turns toward me. “We don't have to do this.”

I look over. “What?”

“We can leave.”

I blink.

“If you get inside and it's too much…” He shrugs. “We leave.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

The certainty in his voice catches me off guard.

“I mean it,” he says. “The second you want out, we're gone.”

Nobody has ever given me permission to leave before.

The realization sits quietly between us. Ash doesn't rush me or fill the silence. He simply waits.

I look toward the entrance then back at him. “I want to try.”

Something warm flashes across his face. Pride. It's gone almost as quickly as it appears.

I pretend I didn't see it. Mostly because I don't know what to do with the way it makes my chest feel.

“Okay,” he says softly.

We climb out of the truck together. He doesn't let go of my hand until we're inside the players' entrance.

The familiar smell of sharpened skates, laundry detergent, and coffee greets us immediately. For once, it feels almost comforting. I carry my bag toward my stall.

Noah isn't here yet. Relief slips through me before I have the chance to stop it. Maybe I'll have another few minutes.

“Damn!” Dante's voice echoes across the room before I can even sit down. He walks over wearing one skate and somehow not falling over.

“You two should've told me you were playing hooky yesterday.”

Ash snorts behind me.