Page 35 of Summer with a Player

"Actually, Asher," she hesitates, "there's something that's been bothering me."

My pulse quickens, a thread of nervousness weaving through the niceness of our intimate dinner. "What is it?"

"It's about your games," she starts, her thumb caressing my knuckles despite the tension. "Sometimes, when you're out there on the ice... It's like you become someone else. Someone who has a completely different world than me."

The words sting, a sudden chill against the coastal heat. This isn't just about hockey; it's about us, about whether I can truly be present with her while chasing my dreams. My grip tightens involuntarily as I grapple for understanding.

"Elle, I—"

"Please," she interrupts gently, "just let me finish. I love watching you play, but I fear losing you to the game. To that world where I don't exist. And the same for my world because I still want to become a nurse, and I have to work all the time to be able to afford it. I’m afraid that we’ll get lost in the day-to-day busyness and lose sight of us."

Her vulnerability strikes a chord, resonating with my own fears of not being worthy of her love outside the rink. But this is our time to prove we're more than past mistakes and insecurities.

"Elle," I say, voice barely above a whisper, "the man on that ice, he's nothing without you. You ground me, remind me why I fight so hard. Not for glory, but for us—for a future where every win is ours, not just mine. As for your nursing school. You know I’m a millionaire, right?"

She searches my eyes, seeking the truth. I can see her walls wavering.

“What? I know you live in a big house, but you have roommates. So, I thought that was how you all can afford the house, kind of like cohabitating,” she replies, and I laugh.

“Oh, gypsy girl. We all live in the same house because we’re friends who happen to work together, but each one of us makes enough money to pay cash for a house like that. My point is, I would happily give you a scholarship for school, and we can move into our own place so you wouldn’t have to work, and you can just go to school.”

"Oh, my God, Ash! Seriously?" she bounces on her tiptoes and I have to steady us before we tumble over the deck and into the ocean.

"Yes, I’m serious. I believe in you, Elle, and I know that you would be the best nurse." My response is instant. Just like that, the tension dissipates, replaced by enthusiasm for what lies ahead.

Her laugh rings out again, this time uninhibited. I squeeze her fingers gently, a silent affirmation that I’m here.

"Look," she says, her voice soft but clear in the quiet night. Her gaze turns upward, and I follow it to see a shooting star streaking across the dark sky. In an instant, I know this is our moment—the symbol of our transformation, the sign that the past is behind us, and the future is ours to shape.

"Make a wish," I mutter, bringing her hand to my lips in a kiss that tastes of salt and hope.

Elle closes her eyes, a serene smile touching her lips. "Done."

"Can you tell me, or will it not come true?" I tease, hoping to keep the mood light.

"It has already come true, Ash," she replies, her crystal blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

I cup her cheek, thumb tracing the line of her jaw, reveling in the softness of her skin. And then, without another word, I drop to one knee, right there on the deck. It's not a proposal—not yet—but the gesture feels momentous all the same.

"Elle, I want this moment to mean something," I say, my voice steady despite the emotion swelling within me. "I may not have a ring, but I'm offering you something more valuable—my promise. My promise to love you, to support you, to be the man you deserve."

Tears glisten in her eyes, but she's smiling, nodding for me to continue.

"Will you accept my promise?" I ask, holding her gaze.

"Yes," she breathes, and it's the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

I stand, pulling her into my arms, and our mouths meet in a kiss that's full of promise. It's a physical surrender to the bond we've forged, a commitment made.

"Elle," I whisper against her skin. "You're my family."

"And you're mine," she whispers back, her hands in my hair, guiding me closer.

Chapter 22

Elle

The door to the master bedroom swings open with a silent command from Asher's confident nudge and we step into. The hum of the yacht's engine vibrates through the soles of my feet. I can't remember the last time I was this aware of every breath, every beat of my heart.

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