Page 141 of Blindside Me
My lips twitch. “Somebody’s not in the mood to wait.”
“Someone’s been missing her man, something fierce.”
Heat flares, but it’s more than that. “Mine’s closer. Your call.”
“Yours, then.” She steps back, threading our fingers. “Lead the way, Klaas.”
The Jeep’s engine hums. The radio plays low, some on-the-nose song about second chances we don’t change. Our handsfind each other on the console, pinky to pinky, then full palm to palm.
“You played well,” she says. “Scouts looked impressed.”
“Wasn’t thinking about scouts.”
Her mouth quirks. “Arena announcements aren’t standard recruiting.”
“Maybe they should be.” My thumb traces circles on her palm. “It worked.”
She arches a brow. “Worked how?”
“A chance to prove I mean it.”
Streetlights flicker across her high cheekbones. Doubt nips at me. Do I deserve her being with me after I ghosted her? Absolutely not, but I promised her the truth. So I give it.
“I talked to my dad.”
Her head turns, surprised. “The dad you don’t talk about?”
“I only have one.”
Smack.
“Stop it,” she laughs after that pathetic attempt at swatting my arm. “You know what I mean.”
I chuckle at her flustered face. “Yeah, Trouble. I talked to him after our skate.”
“And?”
“And he laughed.” The memory still burns. “Said it was only a matter of time before I snapped. That I’m his son, after all.”
She doesn’t fill the silence. Just traces circles on my wrist with her thumb.
“I drove for hours,” I say. “Ended up at the playground where Jake used to take me when my dad was … gone. And I realized I’ve been letting fear drive every decision about control so I don’t become him.”
I pull into the parking lot for jock housing. The entire block is quiet.
“I’m done letting him win.” I stare out the windshield. “Done running from hard things. Done letting fear decide.”
I kill the engine. For a second, we just breathe.
“Thanks for telling me.” Her soft voice fills my chest with warmth. I get a feeling she means for letting her in more so than telling her what I did. But I was serious when I vowed to include her in everything.
Once inside, Jade follows me up the narrow staircase to my room. I’m in no hurry. As much as I can’t wait to bury myself deep inside her, I want to take my time. I want to savor every precious moment with her. I’ve wasted too much time already.
My bedroom door is shut, just as I left it, but I hesitate before turning the knob. It’s not the first time she’s been in my room, but it feels different now. More significant.
The door swings open to reveal the sparse, ordered space that reflects everything about me. The twin bed pushed against one wall, neatly made with dark blue bedding. Desk in the corner with textbooks stacked by size. Hockey gear arranged precisely on dedicated hooks—sticks, extra gloves, practice jersey. A single framed photo of Jake and me from before things fell apart. Everything in its place. Everything controlled.
Jade steps inside, and the room changes. Or I do.
