Page 32 of Cherry Picking
“I’ve been here before,” I tell him, swallowing my apprehension. “It sucks. But they’ll fix me up, and I’ll be alright.”
“Will you be alright if this takes you out of the game?” Sarcasm drips from his words, and I only squeeze his fingers tighter.
“And here I was thinking you’d be worried about our sex life.” I say it low and with a growl that makes Griffin shiver. Makes his eyes darken a bit as they finally rest on mine.
“I’m not afraid to put in the work for that.” We’re both grateful for the distraction; sex tends to be good for that, and it’s our fall back when things get too real—too serious.
It doesn’t work for long though, because worry clouds his expression as he drops into the chair beside the bed, pressing our linked hands to his forehead.
“This is my fault.”
I run my other hand through his messy helmet hair and tug until he looks at me with watery eyes.
“Texas played dirty, and I’ve always been a liability. This leg was going to catch up with me at some point.”
“But I put bad juju into this game.” He squeezes my fingers and presses our knuckles to his lips. “I was a cocky shit who had plans centered around us winning, and the hockey gods decided to smite you for it.”
I don’t know how to reply to that, trying to come up with something lighthearted, but his self-deprecating laugh fills that void.
“Just another penalty someone has to take for my screw ups.”
“Hey now.” I finally free my hand so I can cup his cheeks and drag his attention back to me and not the floor. “We all do a lot of stupid things on game days. We’re a superstitious lot. Nothing you did holds any more weight than the rest of us.”
“The universe is laughing at me.”
“You give the universe too much credit.”
Those stormy eyes clash with mine, flick to the door for a beat, and then come back just as his lips descend on mine with a quiet urgency.
“I don’t want to keep you a secret anymore,” he whispers against my mouth, and I hate how all my muscles tense at the words. “Not from the people that matter.”
“Griff. What…?”
“I was going to ask if you were ready to come out to the team. There was a whole plan. It banked on us winning. I was sure that the universe agreed. That me and you—together we could do this.”
I’m frozen, any and all responses drowned out by the chaotic clutter twisting around in my head.
“I didn’t know you wanted that.” My reply is quiet and raw.
Griffin smiles, but it’s sad, like he knew that would be my answer but it still hurts to hear.
“I’ve always wanted that.” He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugs. “But I’ve wanted you more.”
I knew going into this with Griff that keeping us a secret was a big ask. He was adamant that he was okay with it. With me not being ready to come out.
Deep down, I’ve known it’s too much for anyone.
Just like it became too much for Matty.
“Not to everyone,” he speaks into the silence we lapsed into. “Just to the team. Just the guys.”
I want to give him that. I want towantto give him that.
Something always gets in my way, makes me panic. If I could live my entire life without having to tell a single soul, I’d go live in a cabin in the woods and board the two of us up.
That wouldn’t be fair to Griffin.
I can’t give him words; I don’t have an answer that would erase the frown lines from his face, but I can card my hand into his hair and draw him in for another kiss.
