Page 97 of Fair Catch

Okay, maybe that’s actually being dramatic, but it’s partly true. The second I let my guard down enough to actually get to know him—allow parts of myself to be vulnerable with him and receive those pieces of him in return—something clicked.

Just like Kason said the night after he met my parents, and it’s stayed that way every moment since.

Rolling my tongue over my lip, I try to find the best way to describe it, only to come up with something that barely scratches the surface.

“He’s…exactly like I expected, but at the same time, he’s entirely different.”

“That’ll do it.” A grin splits Q’s face before he glances over the screen—probably in the direction Oakley’s in. “Trust me, I know the feeling well.”

Sighing, I mutter, “It wasn’t supposed to happen, though.”

“The sex, or…”

“None of it.” Sitting up, I shift back against my headboard and prop my phone on my knee. “This year was supposed to be easy. I’d go to my classes, make the grades, get the degree—”

“Then get in at your dad’s firm, I know,” he finishes for me, still smirking. “That’s been your life plan since we were kids. At this point, I know it better than my social security number.”

I snort out a laugh, despite the helpless feeling of it all. “That’s not my fault if you can’t remember a simple nine-digit number.”

“I was being facetious, you dick, but feel free to continue with your quarter-life crisis.”

“It’s not acrisis,” I rebut, though there’s a good part of my brain that would beg to differ. “It’s more that nowhere in all that planning did a relationship fit into it. Let alone with an NFL prospect who could very well be living on the other side of the country by this time next year.”

“And you think Oakley was part of any future I saw for myself?” Quinton lets out a sharp laugh. “Love was the last goddamn thing on my mind when things between us started. All I cared about was hockey and winning and fuck everything else. But when he showed me the parts of him I didn’t know existed, there was no way to prevent my heart from being stolen.” His eyes flash off the screen again before coming back to mine. “You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. It just happens, and no amount of planning is gonna stop it.”

Hell must’ve froze over if I’m even debating taking real, mature, adult advice from Quinton de Haas…and it’s actually making sense.

“Slow down, there, Q. It’s a little soon to be mentioning the L-word.”

“What’s that saying about protesting too much?” he immediately counters, smirking.

“But at least the two of you wanted the same thing,” I reply, ignoring his comment. “You ended up in the same place, get to see each other every day, live together…”

The thing is, I’ve pictured things between Kason and me for the long haul. Maybe not in extreme detail as tohowit would work—which is uncharacteristic in itself—but enough to feel like this could really go somewhere.

And yet…

“If he gets drafted, that’s basically all out the window,” I whisper, defeated.

“You seem to forget Oakley and I still had a damn good chance of being on opposite sides of the country when we entered the NHL draft. We had no idea where either of us would be going, but we were committed to doing it together, no matter what.”

I roll my eyes. “Yet it all worked out in the end.”

“It did, yeah. But that’s only because we were willing to risk it all, even if the odds were stacked against us. And I’m glad we did.” A daydreamy expression crosses his features, and one of those dopey, love-drunk smiles pulls at his lips. “You should’ve seen his face when he realized we’d actually be able to live together, let alone play together again. I’ve never seen him happier. And to be the reason he smiles that way? It’s fucking powerful.” His attention moves back to me now, his gaze imploring and earnest when he adds, “You just gotta be open to changes in the plan.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, wishing like hell it was as simple as he’s making it sound.

Kason’s come to mean a great deal to me, and even though this is still really new—and also kind of insane—I wanna see where it can go. But now, I’m starting to question if it’s even worth trying, and I hate it.

Before Thanksgiving, none of this shit had even entered the equation for me. I was in a blissful little sex bubble with Kason where the only thing that existed was the two of us getting to really know each other. Now, my family has popped it with an ice-cold shard of reality.

He studies me, icy blue eyes analyzing my every feature before he asks, “What aren’t you saying?”

Damn him for knowing me so well.

Sighing, I mutter, “I took him to meet my family for Thanksgiving.”

A low whistle leaves him, and he shakes his head with a chuckle. “Damn, you do mean business with this one.”

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