Page 124 of Falling

Even if you’re good, it’s not just about stats. It’s about timing, luck, and being in the right place at the right time. And then there’s the draft. The NHL draft is a beast of its own. You’ve got scouts watching your every move, analyzing your every shift. They’re looking for the total package—skill, work ethic, potential, and a bit of that X-factor.

Recently, I haven’t been giving anyone a reason to prove that I’m anything special, but I have enough confidence in myself and my skill that I’ll be able to pull something off. I’ve worked way too fucking hard to give up now.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say to Wren, slinging my arm over her shoulder and trying to seem more confident than I feel. “Even if I don’t, I’ll still have hockey in one way or another. And I’ll have you. I think I’ll live.”

I know saying that is suggesting that we’ll be together for years from now, but I mean it. In some way, I can see us going to hockey games together and going book shopping just for Wren to force-feed me a romance novel I don’t want to read.

I sway us to the side. “What about you?”

“What about me? I’ll be an Olympian before I’m twenty-five,” she says easily.

“Someone’s cocky.”

She pins me with a look. “Confident.”

“You could be competing for Team USA right now if you wanted,” I say. She shrugs, and I narrow my eyes at her.

She sighs, her green eyes sparkling. “I think I’ve just stopped waiting for something magical to happen for some random day when a scout is going to find me and suddenly see the potential in me. Because, like you, the chances are slim, and I’m not delusional enough to think that just because I’m close to winning this year’s championship that guarantees me entrance to the next Olympics.” She takes in a deep breath, shaking her head as if to reorganize her thoughts. “I just… I just work so hard, you know? And I just think that the more I keep working, the more it’ll pay off. And the more times that I get looked over for opportunities, it’s just a better story to tell. And then people will realize I was right under their nose the entire time, and then I'll have this great success story. Tell you the best part?”

“What?”

“Even if Idon’tmake it to the Olympics, every single moment I’ve had throughout my skating career will be worth it because I love what I do. If I get to skate for fun or compete and still write my silly books on the side, I'll be happy.”

The smile she gives me now is pure bliss. She seems so sure of herself. So confident in every single thing that she does. What she’s saying is realistic, and I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who is so aware of both their potential and the realities of how it could play out.

“Do you think you’ll publish your books?” I ask.

She shrugs, running her finger against the spine of the book in her hands. “Trust me, I’d love to see my name on the spine of one of these books in the store, but sometimes, I just want to keep all my work to myself. Like, hoard it and just keep it hidden from the world so no one can ruin it for me. When I have a story Ireallywant to tell, like Gigi did, then maybe I’ll consider it.”

“Has anyone ever told you how brilliant you are?” I say in complete and utter disbelief of the woman in front of me. Her cheeks flush, and she brushes her hair out of her face.

She gives me a coy smile. “Once or twice.”

I shake my head. “I’m being serious, Wren. I want to live inside your brain.”

She scoffs. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“No, seriously,” she says, lowering her voice as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear. “There's very terrible thoughts up in here. It’s just straight-up doom and gloom and self-deprecation with a sprinkle of delusion.”

“I'm sure there's other things going on in there,” I say, laughing. She blinks at me. “There must be something else that you think about.”

She steps closer, looking up at me with a smile. “Hm. There’s one other thing.”

I swallow when that fucking dimple pops out. “What is it?”

“You.”

If it’s possible for a person's heart to fall right out of their chest, that’s exactly what just happened to me. The thing about Wren is that she doesn’t notice how important she is to everyone else in her life. She doesn’t know that just being around her makes me feel better. She makes me feel like I can breathe again after years of holding my breath. If I could erase every person from her life that has made her feel unimportant, I’d do it in an instant. I think I’d do anything for this girl.

Of course, I don’t know how to say that to her while she looks up at me, so I just lean down and kiss her and pray she lets me continue to prove to her that I’m the kind of person that deserves her.

40

WREN

MOMMY ISSUES? ME? NEVER

---