Page 66 of What if It's Us

But also, I’m kidding myself if I pretend there’s nothing between Ledger and me. I think about him all the time. When he’s in the arena I find a reason to seek him out and watch him. When he’s off ice he’s found a reason to be near me. He’s been kinder to me and shown me more compassion in these past six weeks than any man ever has. He’s never distant, always present when he’s with me, and no matter where we are, work, home, or otherwise, I know I’m safe with him.

“I think every damn thing about you is beautiful.”

Emotion wells in my eyes and threatens to spill over. Hope—fear—something unnamable with the weight of his offer thick in the air.

On a shaky breath I finally part my lips and ask, “What if this changes everything?”

He leans forward. His voice is gentle but certain. “What if it’s supposed to?”

“Ledge—”

“Just say yes, Marlee,” he pleads on a whisper. “Say yes and I’ll be there with you for every fucking thing. Every doctor’s appointment. Every mood swing. Every sleepless night. I’ll be by your side. Even when it’s messy. You’ll never have to do this alone because you’ll have me. All you have to do is say yes.”

I didn’t plan for this. For him. Not like this. Not in the soft hush of a darkened hotel room with my heart thudding like it’s trying to speak for me. But now, lying here underneath him, our bodies touching, something unexpected blooms inside me. Not lust—though that’s there too—but something gentler, deeper. It settles in my chest like warmth spreading outward, like the moment before happy tears. My body is hyper aware of him hovering above me. The heat of his skin, the steadiness of his breath, the sincerity in his gaze, but it’s my heart that surprises me the most.

It’s surrendering.

Willingly.

Slowly.

Like a dream come true I never saw coming.

My heartrate rises not because of panic or fear this time, but because of trust and certainty that the decision I’m about to make may very well change my life forever. There’s no need for a declaration or fireworks. No grand gesture—just the quiet anchoring certainty that if I reach for him, if I say yes, he’ll never let go. That maybe love doesn’t always show up with drama in its strangest forms. Sometimes it shows up in a dance, a hug, a candy bar, and a voice that saysyou’re not alone.

And staring up at Ledger, I know I’m not.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever again.

Slowly, I blink my eyes and latch on to Ledger’s sincere and heated gaze and irrevocably give myself to the one man who will one day be the father of my child.

“Yes.”

“Thank fucking Christ.” That’s all he says before his warm, strong mouth descends on mine. I prepare myself for Ledger to devour me, but his kiss is just the opposite. Our lips meet gently, like a question and an answer spoken in tandem. He brings his hand to cup my jaw, reverent in his movements as our mouths move together. My fingers itch to curl into his skin, to touch him, hold him, so I slide them around the back of his neck and pull him closer. He doesn’t allow all his weight to fall on me but feeling his warm body envelop mine only heightens the security I feel when I’m with him.

My lips part and his tongue dips inside as our kiss unfolds—not in a heated rush but in a slow languid dance. It’s both a get-to-know-you kiss and a kiss of recognition all in one. It’s not just passionate but memory making. It’s every moment we didn’t realize or admit we were falling for each other, distilled into a single exchange.

His breath stutters against the edge of my cheek, relief and hunger colliding in his eyes. He pushes a stray hair from my forehead, tender in a way that betrays the acres of muscle and violence I’ve seen him carry on the ice.

“Still with me?” he murmurs.

I nod against him, my eyes waiting for his to open. To see me. And when they do, I wrap my legs around his waist and whisper, “I’ve never been more here.”

He kisses me again—this time deeper, surer—and then slowly peppers kisses across my jaw and down my neck. He sneaks his hand underneath my t-shirt that I’m still wearing and brushes his hand just underneath my breast. My mouth opens and I gasp lightly in anticipation for the touch I know is coming.

The touch I’m desperate for.

When his palm finally covers my breast a pleasured moan escapes my mouth that he captures once again with his. He gathers me up, pulling the blanket to the side, and his hands come around my hips, warm and sure. He isn’t hurried, not in the way I remember other men. He leans in again and this kiss is deeper, more deliberate, and with each press of his lips I feel something relax inside me.

“I want to look at you, Marlee,” he whispers against my mouth. “I want to see you.”

Sitting up momentarily, I allow Ledger to lift the hem of my t-shirt and pull it over my head. I wasn’t exactly dressed for a night of lustful sex but at least I chose my navy-blue lace bra to wear under my Stars t-shirt for today’s game. My shirt falls from his hand to the floor as his eyes rake over me appreciatively.

He takes a moment just to look.

To gaze.

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