Page 48 of Face Off
“Will you tell me about her?”
His smile is soft, and that weight on my chest is back. “She was born and raised in DC and grew up as a Stars fan.”
“Talk about some recent disappointment.”
“Seriously. She got sick a couple years ago, and her health has started to deteriorate the last few months. Hockey is the thing that makes her happy, though, and her family still gets out to the games. They have season tickets in the upper bowl, but her wish was to sit right behind the bench and get a tour. I upgraded them for the rest of the season, and she really liked seeing the arena without anyone in it.”
My eyes sting. A lump settles in my throat, and it won’t go away. “That’s really generous of you.”
“What good is being rich if you don’t spend the money on people who deserve it? It’s also really fucking humbling. Of all the things she could’ve done, she picked hanging out with me. She has all these dreams and aspirations. She wants to work for NASA and also find a cure for cancer.” His voice cracks, and I feel it too. “I’m just a fucking hockey player.”
“You’re more than a hockey player,” I say, and he opens his eyes to look at me. I think he can see straight into my soul. “You’re her hero, and there’s not an honor higher than that. Just think: one day she’s going to be at NASA or some prestigious research hospital, in a room with really smart people, and she’ll tell them all about how she got to spend time with you. That sounds like my idea of hell, but I’m glad she likes it.”
Maverick’s smile shows off his dimple. “She likes me a lot, but she loves you. Gave me your entire stat line from college and the ECHL. I know you think you played like shit, but guess what? She still wants your autograph. She’s still going to be here next week cheering for you and wearing your jersey.”
“I have this tremendous opportunity, and I don’t want people to think I’m disappointing them,” I say. The words won’t stop, and for once, I let them out. “I don’t want to let anyone down.”
“You’re a woman in the NHL, Hartwell. You’re breaking fucking barriers. There’s not a damn person out there who thinks you’re a disappointment.”
My skin prickles like it always does when someone tells me nice things. “It’s tough to remember that sometimes. I’m hard on myself.”
“No shit,” Maverick draws out, and I snort. “Was that a laugh, Red?”
“No. It was a chortle.”
“The fuck is a chortle? Is that a Pokémon?”
“I don’t know. Not a laugh, though. And definitely not at something you said.”
“Admit it. You think I’m funny.”
“You’re mediocre at best.”
“Better than being the worst.” His grin is smug. “You want to grab some food?”
“I’m fine,” I say, but my stomach picks that moment to decide to make an embarrassing loud noise I try to cover with a cough.
“You’re such a bad liar.”
“Why do you want to grab food?”
“Because you’re hungry and tired and you’ve made your fucking point. Do you like sandwiches?”
“I love sandwiches.”
“Good. You’ve had enough ice time today, and I’m cutting you off.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
“I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here,” he tells me without hesitation.
“I don’t think you could lift me.”
“Is that a challenge, Red?”
Warmth pools in my stomach and between my legs.
It feels wrong to imagine his arm around my thighs. His hand near my ass and my chest pressing against his back.
