Page 147 of Face Off
Me
I’d vote for him.
Riley
Same.
Pretty Boy
Some friends you are.
“We’re playing in Detroit next week. You must be excited to be in front of a hometown crowd.” Maverick props up on his elbow and smiles at me. There’s a hickey on his neck, just below his ear, and his shirt is on inside out. “Who’s coming to see you? There’s going to be a whole Emmy Fan Club, isn’t there?”
“No.” I rub my thumb up his arm and lean forward so I can kiss his tattoos. The cherries might be my favorite, and I kiss those twice. “My mom never comes to my games, and it’s difficult for my dad to travel.”
“With the wheelchair?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yeah. There’s a lot of stress involved with getting places, and Detroit is too far of a drive for him to make. The seating in the arena isn’t very ADA friendly either, and don’t get me started on the extra security measures he has to go through.”
“Has he ever seen you play?”
“He was at all my high school games, then once or twice in college. He didn’t get to see me in the ECHL.” I shrug and gently nudge Maverick onto his back so I can rest my head on his chest. He smells like the banana bread we tried to make in the kitchen earlier before we gave up and ate a whole bag of chocolate chips. “I send him game film and he watches it, though. He has no problem telling me when I should’ve taken the open shot instead of recording an assist.”
“Half the time you pass, you should’ve taken the open shot,” he agrees, chuckling as he wraps his arms around my waist. He buries his face in my hair, and his heart beats under my cheek. “What if we were able to get him to the game?”
“How would we do that? Lansing is one hundred miles from Detroit. It’s not like we’re going to make a pitstop on the team bus.”
“I’ve been doing some research.” Maverick reaches for his phone and hands it to me. “Password is 3669.”
“Why are you telling me your password?”
“So I can keep holding you. You’re so warm.”
I punch in the digits, and there’s a website displayed on his screen. “What’s this?”
“You can rent wheelchair accessible vans. I thought we could drive to Lansing before morning skate, pick him up, bring him to the arena so he can watch the game, then take him home after. We don’t fly out until Friday morning, so there’s plenty of time.”
“Hang on.” I sit up. My eyes bounce from the phone to him then back to his phone. “What are you—Maverick. This is so thoughtful of you, but he can’t be alone during the game. I mean, he can. He’s cognitively sound, but if he needs to use the restroom or get some food, it’s better if someone is with him to offer some assistance. Navigating crowds can also be a nightmare.”
“I remember you mentioning that.” Maverick sits up and kisses my forehead. “I talked with Coach, and I have no problem not dressing so I can hang out with him. Or, if you’re comfortable with it, Hudson’s dad is going to be in Detroit for the game. Duke is a great guy, and he’s familiar with helping folks who use wheelchairs. Hudson’s mom used one before she passed, and I bet he’d be comfortable accompanying him.”
I take a deep breath and try not to cry. It feels like the wind just got knocked out of me, and my fingers curl around his navy sheets.
“You would sit out a game just so you could spend time with my dad?” I whisper. “Why would you ever do that?”
“It’s important to you. I know how much it would mean to you if he were there. It would make you happy, and if we’re being honest, I really want to meet the man who helped bring my favorite spitfire girl into the world.”
“We’re less than six weeks out from the playoffs, and we could lose without you in the lineup. Do you want to take that risk?”
“I love your confidence in me.” His grin is gentle, and he reaches for me. “We’re five games ahead of Orlando in our division, and we’re only trailing Boston by a half game in the East. Unless things go to shit, we’ve got the home advantage for the playoffs locked up. If I sit out, Grant could have some experience in the first line. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
I don’t know what to say.
My mind is a whirlwind, a mess of sounds and feelings and emotions I’ve tried so hard to fight and keep away, but a single word slips through and echoes loudly amongst all the noise.
Love.
Love, love, love.
