Page 47 of Play Maker

Her brows lift. “That’s … surprising, even though I probably knew that but wanted to bury that you’re not just hot but smart, too.”

I chuckle, play it cool, but that felt good, real good.

“What do your parents do?” she asks.

I flinch, and I know this because she does in response.

“You don’t have to tell me, but also, wow.”

I swallow back a lump and shake my head as I lie back down. “My, uh, mom died when I was little, and my father when I was fifteen. No siblings.”

“Kolby, I?—”

“Today’s been messed up. Tonight’s been damn good. I don’t wanna go into that headspace right now. I will tell you?—”

Her hand finds mine under the blanket and squeezes it. “No, you won’t, not unless you want to and not until after the season’s over.”

I nod, ’cause yeah, that works. And if I don’t get a contract, I don’t have to deal with it.

“It was my coach who pushed me to grab everything a full ride to college had to offer. So, I did. This was a dream. Still feels like it. But I’d be happy coaching college. Hell, even high school.”

She lies down, too, facing me. “Lucas, Dad, and Alex coached high school when we were kids. Mom, Tessa, and Phoebe wanted to coach hockey, but we begged them not to—they’re brutal.”

She presses her head against my chest, and I wrap my arm tighter around her. And the storm that’s always moving in my brain? It goes quiet.

“Stay?” She yawns.

“Be glad to.”

She falls asleep first. I know by the way her breathing changes—slow, steady, safe. And for the first time in a long damn time, I don’t fight it. I let myself follow.

* * *

I lie awake, knowing I’m on borrowed time, but not wanting to move because there’s a rhythm to her breathing that’s soothing—slow, even—her fingers still tangled with mine.

I don’t want to do a damn thing but stay here and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. And, for a second, it feels like normal isn’t too far away to grab.

Until—

“Well, look at that!” Skinner’s voice blasts through the floorboards like he’s announcing for the damn NFL. “The cousins have arrived! And Mrs. Brooks, too! Gosh, I hope everyone’sdressed!”

Lo groans into my chest. “I swear to God.”

I try not to laugh. “Subtle as ever.”

She lifts her head, eyes half-lidded and annoyed. “You going down?”

“Gonna make breakfast. Pretend I stayed on schedule.”

She sighs.

I shift, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You staying put?”

“Of course I’m staying put. If I walk out of this room before ten on my day off, my mother will know I’m either sick, dead, or defiled.”

I smirk. “Definitely door number three.”

She shoves me lightly, but there’s no heat behind it.

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