Page 151 of Friendzone Hockey
I raise a brow. “And you can’t do the same for me?”
“We can,” he says.
“Stace…”
“I want to do it, okay? Please let me do this for us? You know it’s in my DNA to provide. I’d rather you keep all the money you make for whatever you want. Or even better, save your money for a rainy day and let me pay for everything.”
It is a very Stacey thing. Looking after people is his life’s purpose. My guess is that’s what he found so appealing about Trent and Alex, too. I’m not even sure if he knows it, but he liked the looking after them part.
“Eventually, you’ll have The Wicklow—if you choose to keep it—and I just … I really, really, want to fucking spoil you, okay?” he rushes out.
It’s physically injuring him to have to ask at all.
“Okay, Stace. I’m fine with it. We’ll figure it out along the way.”
“Good. Fuck, what a relief. I thought I was gonna have to talk you into it. I had a thousand points I was gonna make.” He grips my face in one hand, under the jaw, resting his forehead on mine, and breathing our shared air before he continues. “And, I don’t really know how to bring this one up, but the wedding venue—you wanna keep it or do we find something new? I wouldn’t even ask, but I keep thinking about your face while we were there. You were so fucking happy.”
“Is it weird if I wanna keep it? We planned a very ‘us’ wedding.” Syd wasn’t on my mind at all, which should have been my first clue.
“Not weird, and I’m pretty sure Judy’s commission’s high enough that she won’t care who shows up as long as she gets paid.”
“Perfect, so, next off-season?”
“Yep, for the wedding reception.” His eyes flick away and then back to mine.
“What does that mean, Alderchuck?”
He pauses to move the hair off my face. “It means, I want you to be my husband as soon as possible. Maybe it’s just a piece of paper to some, but I want to call you my husband.”
“Admit it, you want some kind of legal ownership, which is super hot, by the way.”
“Not gonna deny it.”
“I’ll marry you whenever you want, Mr. Alderchuck.”
He presses my nose. “Good, now your turn.”
I groan, covering my face. “Please don’t make me.”
“Nope, not gonna fly.” His jaw is hard and as firm as his resolve. But, wow, this is where boyfriend Stacey is different than friend Stacey.
A sharp exhale heaves from my lungs. “It’s stupid.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“It’s a needy, high-maintenance?—”
“Breathe, Dash.”
I follow the sound of his voice and ignore the rattling bones in my mind. “You cool with me texting you as much as I want to?”
“Shit,” he says, breaking contact with me to run a hand through his hair. “I went too long without texting you.”
“No,Stacey. This isn’t about what you did wrong.”
“I got involved with your surprise,” he says, eyes twinkling.
I smile, looking away as my stomach drops out of my body. The way he looks at me is unreal. Was he always like this? Did I miss it? Or has he pulled the ropes off his restraint?
