Page 46 of Make Your Play

“Hello?”

“Riley,” he says breathlessly, my name falling from his tongue in relief. “Fuck, I needed to hear your voice.”

My heart crawls into my throat as I hear the seriousness in his tone. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he admits, sounding tired. I glance at the time on my phone, realizing he hasn’t even played yet today. He must have just woken up from his pre-game nap. “I’ve just gotten used to talking to you and seeing you every day. This is weird for me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it feels weird not having you here.”

“That actually doesn’t.” He chuckles softly. “It just makes me want to come home so you don’t have to be alone.”

The thought is honestly appealing. I would love nothing more than to have him lounging on the couch with me, laughing at some stupid show. Watching him cook me dinner because he insists that I don’t need to lift a finger while he’s around. He’s had all of us fooled for years thinking he wasn’t good at it. Turns out, he can follow a recipe pretty well.

It’s been a weird adjustment, but I also kind of like it. I like feeling like I’m cared for… even if it’s temporary.

“Thankfully you’ll be home soon enough.”

He’s silent.

“Are you there?”

“Sorry, yeah, I am,” he says, his voice gruff and half muffled for a second. “I was looking at flights for tonight.”

My breath catches in my throat. “For what?”

“To come home to you.”

My eyes widen and I slowly sit up straighter on the couch. “Nash, stop being ridiculous. You’ll be home next week.”

“Yeah, like, next Friday,” he retorts in an annoyed tone. “It’s Tuesday, Riley.”

“You cannot fly home.”

He’s silent again. “I could for the night.”

“You’re going to stress me out.” I let out an exasperated sigh, although the thought of him being home is extremely appealing. I’m almost positive it would be frowned upon with his team and contract.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a rush, the apology hanging heavily in his tone. “I was reading that there are different breathing exercises to help relieve stress.”

I’m the one who doesn’t say a word now. My mind processes and reprocesses what he just said. “I didn’t know you read.”

“I normally don’t but I saw a pregnancy book at the store the other day and thought maybe it would be helpful for me to learn some things about it and babies.”

My heart pitter-patters in my chest and my throat constricts. This man who owes me nothing is reading about pregnancy and babies. This man who doesn’t get involved with anyone yet has been staying at my house every night for the past few weeks.

He bought a damn pregnancy book.

“Are you there?”

I swallow back my emotions, willing the tears to leave my eyes at the sentiment behind it. “I am.”

There’s sudden commotion in the background and it no longer sounds like Nash is alone anymore. “Shit. The guys just came to see if I’m ready to go eat before the game.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, feeling a bit disappointed that he has to go and I’ll be in bed by the time his game is over tonight. “Give them hell on the ice tonight.”

“Oh, you know we aren’t going to lose without a fight,” he replies, the confidence oozing from his voice as he laughs softly.

“You’d better not get into a fight,” I remind him, half scolding him as I chuckle with him. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

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