Page 85 of Brace and Chase

He retired last year. Will he still want to retire after we win this year—because wewillwin—or will he want to play more?

I’m sure as fuck not retiring after this season.

Would he even want to stay here?

I don’t want to live anywhere else.

Could we ever be anactualcouple? One who kisses in front of all their friends when either of us ends up in the hospital?

Or is our love for hockey going to fuck this up?

So many questions . . . so few answers.

All I know is that I want him in my arms tonight. I want him there every night, but I can’t force him to do shit if he’s done with me. If he needs me to talk about?—

I can’t do that right now.

In fact, I unlock my phone and delete the message. It’s the least important part of all this.

The only way to know is to find out, so with a big breath—that does hurt and reminds me of everything that’s happened tonight—I open the door to his bedroom slowly and find the light on the empty side of the bed is on.

A ragged breath leaves me at the sight. I don’t think I’ve been this relieved in my entire life.

I walk silently to that light, take off all my clothes except my briefs and climb in, scoot to the middle and wrap one arm around him, then pull him to me.

He doesn’t protest, doesn’t resist. In fact, he rolls around when I stop moving and throws an arm over my middle as well.

I kiss his forehead, a sign of gratitude, and let out a measured breath.

“Just promise me you’ll tell me someday,” he whispers. He sounds so sad I can’t believe the whole thing doesn’t spill out of me in that moment. That’s how much his words impact me.

I still don’t have answers to all the questions that poppedinto my brain outside the door, but now I’m sure there’s no place I’d rather be than next to him.

Whether it’s in bed, in the kitchen, in a car, or on the ice.

Next to Charlie Heart is where I want to be, and I fear I might sacrifice nearly everything for it. For him.

Again, it’s too big, the feelings, the realization, so I shut it all out except for one thing.

The one promise I can make him because I know next time I’ll be strong enough to tell him.

“I promise.”

The next weekpasses in a blur of doctor’s appointments, light practices and a lot of frustration over not being on the ice with Charlie.

Thankfully, Charlie doesn’t ask any more questions about Max, something I feel a lot of guilt over, but the relief is just as great.

On Friday morning, after we had our light morning skate, I went for my latest checkup and they gave me the green light to play tonight. I didn’t tell Charlie right away, and instead we came to the house and came up for a nap.

Two hours later, I wake up with a smile, because in just a few hours I’ll be back on the ice. Back where I belong.

I also plan to do more than skate.

I plant tiny kisses on Charlie’s cheeks to coax him out of sleep, knowing we can finally start doing something aboutthe horniness that’s been plaguing me all week. The doctor said no sex, though, and Charlie, that beautiful man,listened to him.

Oh well, I guess no one can be perfect.

And as far as imperfections go, I guess that one isn’t so bad.

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