Page 15 of Pucks, Lies, and Sticktape

But Jeannie didn’t answer right away. She swallowed, something flickering in her expression—something more than just wonder. Then, in a voice so soft it almost shattered him, she whispered, “It’s humbling.”

Her hand fluttered up, fingers trembling as they covered her mouth. His stomach tightened. The sharp stab of emotion in her voice, the way her body seemed to shrink in on itself—it hit him like a punch to the gut.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but urgent.

Her exhale was shaky.

“I don’t think I would have ever had something like this on my own—and I see it now. I was trying so hard… and falling flat.”

His chest ached at her words. He turned to fully face her, his brows drawing together. “No. Never,” he said, firm but tender.“You were struggling and running in a cage that wasn’t meant to hold you.” His fingers brushed against hers, just a whisper of contact, grounding her, grounding himself. “I want to give you the keys for so much more.”

She let out a quiet, fractured laugh, her head dipping as she whispered, “I’m nobody.”

His breath caught. Without thinking, he reached for her, fingers skimming the tips of hers where her other hand hung at her side. A simple touch, but one that carried weight.

Meaning.

Devotion.

“Not to me, you aren’t,” he murmured, his voice low and certain. She finally looked up, and when their gazes met, something inside him settled.

“To me,” he continued, “you are the person who is giving me a chance to do more—and I promise, without you, I wouldn’t have qualified for this spot on the team.”

The truth lay bare between them, humming in the space where their hands nearly touched. The moment stretched, heavy with unspoken things. He just hoped—prayed—she could see herself the way he did. She was giving him the chance he needed, a shot for something more than what he had, and it was impossible without her help.

For that, he would always be grateful.

Clearing his throat, Matthieu carried her things off toward the doorway in the distance. There was a full-size bed and a twin bed in the spare room so when his family came to visit, they could stay with him. He set her things on the twin bed, treating them like they were precious, and set down her backpack. As he re-entered the living room, he saw her still looking out the windows and smiled.

He wanted their place in Quebec to have a view… as a ‘thank you’ to her. Giving her a little space, Matthieu went into thekitchen and filled the kettle to make some hot tea for her, hoping it made her feel welcome. This all felt so weird, so strange, and when it came down to facts – he’d just invited a stranger to come live with him.

Jeannie could rob him blind, invite others over to clean out his condo, and steal his car; but he’d been honest with her earlier – for this to work, they had to talk, give it a chance, and be open. He was letting down all of his walls, making the adjustments no matter how strange it felt, and making tea was something his father did for his mother without asking her. He would take those little nods from his youth and apply them, hoping it helped build their friendship.

“Do you want to look at the houses that my agent sent to me while I review the contract one more time?”

“Sure,” she said quietly, looking awfully intimidated. This had to be a different life for her, a different future than she expected, and if he felt nervous, he could only imagine how she must feel. No, he’d give her time to grow accustomed to him, his habits, and hopefully, they didn’t clash too badly – and if they did?

He wasn’t married.

Matthieu fought back a sigh of relief as he opened his laptop and slid it toward her, holding out a hand. He could have told her to grab her laptop, but a part of him wanted once again to impress her. Grabbing her tea, he set it beside the computer and gave her a quick smile before grabbing his phone, sitting nearby and poring over the contract once more.

It was all there – just like Fallon said.

One million a year, for five years, starting goalie, endorsement with an energy drink who was looking for an up-and-coming athlete for their commercials – which was a different way to look at it. Usually places wanted a well-known athlete, but maybe this way, they got someone fairly cheap.That contract was in another email he hadn’t looked at yet. There were clauses in there for moving expenses, allowances for language tutors, recommendations where to purchase a car in the area because discounts had been arranged by the owner of the team… yep, it was all there. He didn’t hesitate – he signed immediately, scribbling across his phone screen, and glanced at Jeannie.

She was sitting beside him, chewing on the side of her lip and scrolling through the screen looking concerned. Fallon usually had pretty good taste and had recommended this spot when he didn’t want to go into a major purchase at twenty-three years old, but as he got a little older, he needed the tax break and realized it now. Yeah, last year’s tax bill with Uncle Sam hurt quite a bit.

“Do you see anything?”

“Oh, um, well… maybe?” she hedged and turned the screen to him. “They're really… ah, big. They are huge houses with backyards for families or dogs, and it’s a bit much for two people.”

“True,” he admitted. “It would be nice to have plenty of space or…”

“Seven bedrooms, though?” she interrupted pointedly, looking at the screen and clicking on one of the listings. “This one has seven bedrooms, two kitchens, and two decks. I guess it would work since we’re living on opposite sides of the house, but I didn’t think we needed six thousand square feet. I mean, Matthieu, my apartment was five hundred square feet, and that is probably the size of the master bedroom.”

“Okay,” he hesitated and looked at her, pulling her hand away from the computer and holding it gently. She was scared about the size of the houses and the finances – and he could appreciate that. “I get that this is different from what you had before, but do not look at the cost…”

– And she reared back, looking at him like he was insane.

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