Page 92 of Need You to Choose Me

I hum.

“Are you…trying to cuddle?” Her confusion is amusing to me as I find the new episode of the true crime show to put on.

“I’m getting comfortable,” I tell her. “But you can call it whatever you want.”

She’s quiet, her eyes still burning holes into the side of my face when I meet them. “What’s going to happen when I leave?”

The heavy question has my brows shooting up. “What do you mean?”

“When I go back to Lindon,” she elaborates slowly. “You’re staying here. You’ll heal and play hockey. I’ll be in classes. We’llsee each other at my brother’s games, probably, but from across the ice.”

I study her carefully. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Except you’re forgetting something.”

“What?”

I shrug casually, letting my arm drape over her shoulders. “We’ll have bye weeks. You’ll have school vacations. Maybe we’ll even share some weekends off together.”

“Weekends,” she repeats slowly, like she’s trying to soak that in. “To do what?”

I look back at the television screen. “Cuddle.”

I’m met with silence.

She doesn’t move my arm or move away. If anything, she allows herself to settle into my side. Eventually, her head meets my shoulder, and I hear the softest exhale escape her lips.

Halfway through the show, her palm rests on my jean-clad leg. “Alex?”

I hum.

“Do you really want to try this?” she asks, her voice full of hesitation. Or is that fear? I’ve never considered her to be scared of anything. It’s one of the many things I’ve secretly appreciated about her. “Whatever ‘this’ is?”

I turn her chin toward mine so she’ll look me in the eyes. “How long are we going to skate around this? We’ve been doing it for years, and it’s safe to say that we both want more than casual.”

Her eyes flash, and her cheeks turn pink. “We never talked about that night, you know. Not really.”

I know which night she’s referring to. I’ve found it hard tostopthinking about it when I’m alone with nothing to drown out my thoughts. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

She wets her lips. “I told you that I loved you, and you told me it would never be that for you. It’s reasonable that I’dquestion things. That night stuck with me for a long time. I’ve let it go, but I haven’t forgotten.”

I’ve kicked myself countless times for saying that. And for what? I could have told her the truth. I could have let her decide if loving me was worth the mess that my life was made of. But, at the time, I didn’t know if I was capable of the same love she’d offer me because I had too much else to focus on. Would she stay if she knew I couldn’t promise her reciprocation? I wouldn’t blame her if she walked away even if I admitted that I cared for her.

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I’m not an asshole for saying that to you,” I answer honestly. “It was a dick move to get you to let me go before things got more serious than they already were. That’s on me. Not you. It was never because of you.”

Her eyes dip down to her lap. “I’ve never told anybody other than my family and friends that I loved them. That meant something to me. What happens if we get to that point again and you decide you’re not there still?”

I don’t know what to say to convince her to give me a chance. The only thing I can offer her is the truth. “I’m not saying this is going to be easy. You’ll need to be patient with me. I’ve never let myself have anything that I’ve wanted before.”

She looks skeptical. “You have hockey. A stable career. Money. I’d say you have a lot.”

“I can get traded at any time,” I counter. “I could stay on the bench. Someone else can replace me in a second. My position in the NHL is expendable now more than ever. And if that goes away, so does the money.”

Olive is quiet, rubbing her lips together.

“Look,” I say with a sigh. “I’ve fucked up a lot when it comes to us. I know that. But you know the reason why I’ve held back. You’ve met my mother when nobody else has. You’ve heard thestory. It’s different experiencing it, and you might decide her episodes are too much in the future. But…”

When the words get lodged in my throat, I have to force them down with a swallow to take a deep breath. I look away, closing my eyes and exhaling roughly until I feel a hand on my face.

Olive moves my face toward hers the same way I did only moments ago. “But what, Alex?”

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