Page 146 of Blindside Me
I glance down at the meticulous check marks, the carefully planned items. “So your grand romantic gestures were pre-planned committee decisions?”
“The PA announcement was all me,” he says quickly, a hint of defensive pride in his voice. “Blake tried to talk me out of it. Said I was committing career suicide in front of scouts.”
My fingers trace the edges of the paper. “But you did it anyway.”
“I did it anyway.”
The simplicity of his answer sends another wave of emotion through me. I stand, still clutching the sheet to my chest, sheet wrapped awkwardly around my body.
“Drew Klaas, who knew you were such a romantic beneath all that hockey robot programming?”
His mouth quirks up at one corner, that half-smile that always makes my stomach flip. But then his expression turns serious.
“I didn’t write it to impress you, Jade.” He steps closer. “I wrote it because I can’t afford to forget how to show up for you. Even once. Even when it’s hard.”
My attempt at humor evaporates. The sheet slips a little, and I clutch it tighter around me with one hand, still holding the list with the other.
“I keep track of everything that matters,” he continues, voice steady but vulnerable. “Training schedules. Nutrition. Game statistics. But this”—he touches the corner of the paper, fingers brushing mine—“this matters more. I couldn’t risk screwing it up because I forgot something important.”
A lump forms in my throat. I’ve always known Drew’s obsession with control, with perfection. But I never considered that he might apply that same determination to loving me better. To becoming someone who stays.
“What about your skates? They’re unfixable.” I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“I know. I can check it off though.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm, the only thing I need is right here.” His fingers brush my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I lean into his touch, unable to stop myself. “And the painting thing? You tensed up when I mentioned it before.”
“Because sitting still, letting someone study me that closely”—he shakes his head—“terrifies me. But I want to do it. For you.”
The breakfast sits forgotten on the desk as Drew moves behind me, carefully wrapping his arms around my waist. Hischin rests on my shoulder, his chest warm against my back. I lean into him, feeling his heartbeat, steady and strong.
“I make lists because I’m scared,” he admits quietly, breath warm against my ear. “Scared I’ll miss something. Scared I’ll revert to the guy who runs when things get complicated. The list keeps me honest.”
I close my eyes, absorbing the weight of his confession. The list isn’t just a plan. It’s a promise to himself as much as to me. Evidence of his determination to change patterns built over a lifetime.
“So what’s next on the list?” I ask softly, turning the folded paper over in my hands.
His arms tighten slightly around my waist, secure but not confining. “Whatever you want,” he answers. “I’m done deciding things for us.”
The statement hangs between us, profound in its simplicity. I press my back more firmly against his chest, head tilting to rest against his.
“I wasn’t crying because you made a list,” I tell him. “I was crying because the last item isn’t something you can check off. It’s ongoing. It’s brave.”
His hand covers mine where it holds the list. “I’m not brave,” he murmurs. “I’m just tired of missing you even when you’re right here.”
I turn in his arms, the sheet slipping further but neither of us caring. Standing chest to chest, I press the folded paper against his chest.
“Keep the list,” I say. “But maybe we can work on it together.”
The smile that spreads across his face is nothing like his media smile, nothing like his polite smile, nothing like the tight grin he gives teammates after a good play. This smile reaches his eyes, crinkles the corners, transforms his entire face into something open and unguarded.
“Together,” he agrees, the word carrying the weight of his entire list in a single breath.
I rise onto my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his. The kiss tastes like promises, like possibility, like two people who’ve spent too long guarding their hearts finally laying down their defenses.
