Page 112 of Playoff

“I offered Blake a contract for next season,” Harper continues. “But he says he can’t make any decisions until the two of you talk. So, I’m going to give you a couple of minutes to do that.” Without another word, she gets up and leaves the room, closing the door to the office behind her.

I turn to Blake in confusion. “What…I’m not sure what’s going on.”

To my surprise, he drops to his knees in front of me, resting his hands on either side of my hips. “What’s going on is that none of this means anything without you. I have an offer from Boston, Winnipeg reached out to my agent this morning, and Harper has offered me a contract as well. But I’m not doing anything unless you’re part of it. I love you, Rowan. I don’t know how to make you understand that this isn’t some fling for me, or a hookup, or even a fun little interlude where we relive the past. This is it for me.Youhave always been it for me.”

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, a surge of emotion suddenly overwhelming me.

“How else can I explain this to you? I love you, and I’ll walk away from all of this if it means having you. I don’t care about the money… Hell, I don’t even care about hockey that much anymore. Not unless you’re at my side. Tell me what I have to do to make you love me again, and I’ll do it.”

“Blake.” I reach out—how can I sit here and not touch him?—putting my hand on the side of his face.

“Do you love me?” he asks in a raspy voice.

“Yes, but?—”

“There can’t be any buts. It has to be a firm yes or a simple no.”

“There’s nothing simple about this.”

“There is. I left Boston yesterday and drove straight to your apartment. Were you there, ignoring me?”

“No. I was out with my dad. It was our last night together.”

“Well, I told everyone I couldn’t make any decisions until my girl weighed in. Period. And I told Harper the same thing this morning. I didn’t know anything about your contract at that point, so I told her the truth—that it was up to you, and I couldn’t make any decisions until we talked.”

“But…” I’m crying again, tears sliding down my cheeks unchecked. “You’ve always wanted to play in the NHL—and you didn’t know Harper was going to rescind the no fraternization clause.”

“Yes, I have always wanted to play in the NHL, but I’ve always loved you more.”

“Blake.” I throw myself in his arms, burying my face in his neck.

“Say it, baby.” He strokes a hand down my back.

And I know exactly what he means.

“I love you,” I whisper, my voice muffled against his skin.

“Tell me what you want me to do. I can stay here, though I’ll be making less than I would in Boston. We can go to Boston together. We can do the long-distance thing?—”

“I want you to play for whichever team makes you happy,” I interrupt, lifting my head so I can look into his eyes. “Seriously. Go grab that pot of gold, babe. I’m not going anywhere. If you need to be in Boston, because the money’s better, we can do long distance for a year or two.”

“Fuck that,” he says, as if it’s the easiest decision in the world. “I’m staying here. With my girl, and a team I happen to love. Also, winters in Boston are brutal.”

I snicker. “There is that.”

“Are you sure this is what you want? I am fully prepared to leave hockey.”

“That would be ridiculous,” I say, shaking my head. “I never wanted you to leave hockey. But now you don’t have to.”

“No, but I feel like there was more going on when you ended things last week.”

“I didn’t want to have to give up my career… but I was already second-guessing myself, wondering if I’m the asshole in this relationship.”

“Not even a little.”

“Then sign the contract. By the time you’re ready to retire, hopefully I’ll have Gene’s job and you can stay home with the kids.”

“Kids?” He arches his brows. “Are there going to be kids? Plural?”

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