Page 39 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

~MADDOX~

Is this a dream?

Can’t be when I haven’t really slept much.

Sleep versus watching your sweet maiden sleep peacefully in your arms all night long.

I’d deprive myself just to make this moment last forever.

Mikayla.

My Sweet Mkaykay.

Sleeping in my arms, her head resting on my chest that rises and falls as slowly as I can make it. I’d stop breathing just to ensure she’s lost in the land of dreams if I could. My baby deserved some rest after the night we shared.

Together.

In her bed.

Pucking hell, I’ve missed this bed.

Missed this bed, her sweet perfume, the smell of her shampoo, and the way she quietly breathes when she sleeps. I’d forgotten the little things.

How she enjoys cuddling after wild sex.

The way she quietly giggles and talks in her sleep.

Her peaceful expression on her face when she’s in a deep sleep is one I can watch forever and always.

No one has ever looked as beautiful and serene as my girl asleep.

Absolutely no one can top her.

That’s why I was so unhappy in my love life since leaving Strattonville. I left my heart behind with the woman I’d dared envision the rest of my life with.

I realize how much we’ve grown. We’ve matured drastically in five years. It’s not to make it seem like Mikayla was immature or anything. She was beyond her years and forced to grow up because of the circumstances that brought her back to this small town after so much fame.

Does she miss that life?

It felt that way when she seemed embarrassed to invite me into her place—this spot that I’ve been to time and time again. I wonder if some past jocks made her feel poor. That she needed to be ashamed of this place that she’s called home for a few years now.

It pisses me off just thinking about it.

Home is how you made it.

The fancy mansions and shit didn’t mean a bloody thing. They were all for show. At the end of the day, it was the connections you shared with people that made your life lively. The people you lived with under one roof further heightened the experience. Whether people or pets, all the memories you created in a place that brought you security are what should be worthy of calling home.

Not a box of rich shit.

It didn’t mean I wasn’t the type who wanted a nice big place in the future. I’d aim toward it, but that wasn’t the priority.

Financial security was what I’d been searching for.

It’s what drove me out of this small town when firefighter training didn’t seem like a good fit for my life. Saving lives was one thing, but I didn’t have the drive. It was missing. Or maybe it was more selective.

If Mikayla or one of my crew guys was in a burning building, I’d give it my all to get them out. Anyone else, not so much.

Hockey, however, awakened that fierce drive that didn’t run out of juice. I felt alive on the ice, and you couldn’t deny that it paid fucking well.

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