Page 149 of Face Off
Maverick whoops and pulls us back onto the pillows. They’re like little clouds under my head, and a laugh bubbles out of me.
“I’ll talk to Hudson about Duke helping out, then I’ll book everything so we can get the ball rolling.”
“Do you have him on speed dial?”
“Basically. Hudson and I bonded right away when he was drafted. He’s close with his dad, which means I’ve become close with his dad. Duke’s been the father figure I never had. I like to pretend he likes me more than Hud, and it’s so fun to give him shit.”
“You’re a damn menace, Maverick Miller.” I sweep a lock of dark hair across his forehead. “I’m glad you have someone like that in your life.”
“Me too. I underestimated the pressure of being the number one draft pick and the attention that comes with being a professional athlete. It’s not just hockey—it’s learning to manage money and hiring people I trust and advocating for myself. Saying no without feeling guilty about it. I’d love to start a league mentorship program where veteran players can partner up with rookies who might need some guidance to help them navigate this new life. That’s what Duke did with me.”
“You have so many brilliant ideas.” I touch his temples and massage the warm skin above his eyebrow. He lets out a happy sigh and closes his eyes. “Can I ask you a personal question you don’t have to feel obligated to answer?”
“You can ask me whatever you want, Emmy. I’ll tell you anything.”
“Have either one of your parents reached out to you since you got drafted? I know hiding your past from the internet is probably easier than hiding yourself from people who might have been in your life before.”
“Ah.” Maverick’s fingers dance down my arm and hold my hip. “No, they haven’t. I waited for a call my rookie year, and nothing came. It’s motivated me to play harder, though. I want to be the best I can be at this sport, and knowing one of them might be watching me adds fuel to the fire.”
“That’s how it is with my mom. I told myself the only way it would be worth losing my relationship with her is if I was the best of the best. Now I’m in the NHL, and I know it was all worth it.”
“We’ve been through some shit, huh?”
“I guess we have. But maybe that’s why we work so well.”
“I love when you flirt with me, Emmy girl.”
I love you.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
“Thank you again for finding a way for my dad to be there,” I say, because once isn’t nearly enough. Not for something this kind and this thoughtful. “He’s going to be so excited to meet you.”
“Of course he is. I’m me,” Maverick jokes, and I press my fingers into his ribs.
His giggle is high-pitched and contagious, and as night stretches to early morning, the two of us fall asleep in each other’s arms, and I think this is what it means to be truly happy.
FORTY-TWO
MAVERICK
“Whose idea wasit to come here on our day off?” I look around the lobby of the fancy workout studio. “We already do plenty of stretching.”
“Pilates isn’t just about stretching. It has other benefits,” Hudson answers, balancing on one foot. “It helps with muscle control and flexibility. It can also increase your lung capacity and helps your concentration.”
“What the hell are you, a pilates spokesperson?” I hold on to the wall and stretch my hamstring. “Is this one of those pyramid schemes? Blink twice if you need help, Hud.”
“He’s being a good friend,” Emmy chimes in, and she fixes her ponytail high on her head. “Lexi just got certified, and what better way to show she’s an incredible instructor than by bringing DC’s hockey boys to her first class?”
“Lexi should get paid more for being an athletic trainer. Then I wouldn’t have to support her while wearing tights,” Liam grumbles, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. It’s a good thing we’re the only ones here, otherwise his pissy attitude would turn away any potential clients.
Piper tilts her head. “They aren’t tights, Liam. They’re leggings, and there is a big difference between the two. I thoughtyou’d prefer them to the big pads you wear on the ice. These let you move freely.”
“I’m comfortable in the pads. I feel like I’m showing off my dick in these. You can practically see my nuts.”
She looks him up and down. “At least it’s a nice dick.”
Liam, the man who could strangle someone with a flick of his wrist, fuckingblushes. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and I’ve never heard him sound so sincere.
