Page 34 of Checking Mr. Wrong (Love in Maple Falls #3)

ASHER

“Dude,” I say into the phone, my voice light but laced with relief. “I’m so glad you’re going to be okay. I’ll be apologizing to you forever that you got dragged into that fight the other night.”

Clément’s laugh comes through the line, smooth and easy. “It is nothing, mon ami. These things, they happen. You know this.”

“Yeah, but still,” I press. “That shouldn’t have been your mess to deal with.”

“Eh.” He brushes it off like I knew he would. “My headaches were never your fault. If it hadn’t been that push, it would have been something else. But I’m looking forward to getting back on the ice. I will see you there soon.”

I grin, shaking my head even though he can’t see me. “You’d better. We’re not the same without you.”

“Then do not let the team fall apart while I’m here, showing the love of my life around Paris,” Clément teases, his tone warm.

I hear a giggle in the background and grin.

I know from my talks with him that he’s with Marcy, the local accountant he fell hard for.

Frenchie is getting his happily ever after.

It’s poetic and the romantic in me is all for it. “Take care, Asher.”

“You too, man. Take it easy,” I reply before the call clicks off.

I slip my phone into my pocket, my steps carrying me aimlessly down Maple Falls’ main street. The early morning air is crisp, the kind that wakes you up whether you’re ready for the day or not. For a second, I just breathe it in, but my thoughts are already spinning.

Talking to Clément felt good. Calming, even, but it also stirred up something I can’t quite shake.

The whole call, I kept thinking about a certain person.

Someone who gets me, who’d care just as much about Clément being okay as I do.

Someone I like sharing with, telling her about things that happen in my day.

Dare I say she makes the ordinary seem extraordinary?

Mabel.

I pull my phone out of my pocket before I can second-guess myself. My thumbs hover over the screen for a second before I type the message.

Hey, am I going to see you tonight?

The three dots pop up almost immediately, and my heart lurches like it’s forgotten how to stay steady.

I know she’s got to get ready to fly out soon, and I know she most likely has a to-do list she’s trying to get through that’s a mile long, but selfishly I want her.

Mabel’s reply comes through a second later, and even before I read it, I know it’s not the answer I want.

I was hoping I could make it, but I’m not going to be able to now. Maybe we can catch up after the game? I want to see you.

I stare at her words, my chest tightening further. She wants to see me. And, in my mind, I’ve decided it’s not to say goodbye—not really. That little sliver of hope in her text feels bittersweet, like the moment before the last note of a favorite song fades.

But she’s still leaving. New York. Her big dreams, her big life. And I can’t be the guy to stand in the way of that. I won’t. Even if it hurts.

Okay. After the game, then. I’ll be looking for you.

What I wish she had texted me was different.

I want to believe Mabel’s sitting on the edge of her bed right now, staring at her packed suitcase, her heart racing as she debates telling me the truth.

She’s decided. She’s not going to New York, at least not yet.

Not until she knows what this is, what we are.

But she’s not ready to say that in a text.

Sigh. A man can dream, can’t he? A man who has been told to scratch the grand gesture. The thought makes me chuckle. Not many women out there would halt a grand gesture before it happened…only Mabel.

This victory should feel good. The kind of good that sinks deep into your bones and stays there. The crowd is electric, the sound of cheers bouncing off the rafters, and I let myself soak it all in. Another win for Maple Falls. Another step closer to the playoffs.

But the high of the game isn’t quite hitting like it usually does. My eyes scan the stands, a habit I’ve picked up in recent weeks. I’m looking for her. I know it’s stupid. She said she had things to do, that she couldn’t make it tonight—but I can’t help it.

I wish I could manifest her in the crowd right now, wearing one of those sarcastic smirks that makes my stomach flip.

Or catch her laughing at some goofy sign someone’s holding up.

I’d take her scowling at me, arms crossed, ready to give me a hard time about something.

I know I’m going to see her now the game is over, but I guess this is also giving me a taste of life here without Mabel around.

I look at the seats again, taking it all in.

What a whirlwind it’s been since I met her.

Life’s funny. Yet, me pausing to savor being here needs to happen.

This arena, my new life, and being an Ice Breaker.

This team is the family I did not know I needed, and even though Canada is home, well, Maple Falls quickly stepped up and wormed its way into my heart.

“Asher!”

A voice snaps me out of my trance. I look around but don’t see anyone trying to get my attention, so I take a second to look and cast another glance at the stands. The crowd is a blur of faces and colors, but then…

“I said, ASHER!” I know that voice. “I’m here. Look over here!”

There she is.

She’s standing in the middle of the stands, a few rows back from the glass, not bothering to hide. Her eyes lock on mine, and everything else fades. It’s like the volume in the arena drops out, leaving only the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Mabel’s wearing a sweatshirt. Not just any sweatshirt though. This one has my face on it, with the words “Forget the jersey!” written in bold across the front.

What the––? I blink, thinking maybe I’m imagining things, but no. She’s there, real and grinning like she just pulled off the best prank in the world. Not wearing an Ice Breakers jersey with my name on it, which is a problem I foresee for future Asher, but in a homemade one that’s even better.

“What are you doing?” I shout, the words carrying more exasperation than I intend.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she puts her finger in the air, telling me to hold on, and bends over, picking something up that’s on the ground beside her. A second later, she’s back and holding up a series of poster boards.

The first one reads: “I TURNED THE JOB DOWN.”

My chest tightens.

The next: “I WANT TO TELL YOU…”

And another: “…THAT I AM FALLING HEAD OVER HEELS IN LOVE WITH YOU, ASHER TREMBLAY.”

I’m rooted to the ice, unable to move, unable to think.

The crowd around her catches on, a wave of cheers and gasps rippling through the stands.

But all I can focus on is her and the ridiculous sweatshirt, the sparkle in her eyes, and the way she’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the world.

“What about New York?” I yell, my voice cracking as my heart tries to claw its way out of my chest.

She holds up the last board: “A WOMAN LIKES TO HAVE HER OPTIONS. I CHANGED MY MIND.”

She tosses the cards to the side, spreading her arms wide, a triumphant grin on her face as she starts the descent toward the edge of the rink.

I’m skating before I realize what I’m doing, stopping just below her in the stands. My teammates are yelling something—probably teasing me—but I don’t care. I can hear Cade’s and Carson’s voices above the fray, cheering me on, and that’s all I need right now.

“Are you really the same woman I asked out? You know…the woman who told me no in multiple ways?” I ask, my grin matching hers.

“Yes, and no.” She crosses her arms, leaning slightly forward as she steps closer.

“Look, even I have to admit I’ve changed.

I don’t know if it happened since I got back here, or if it started while I was on the East Coast, but I need you to understand I’m a woman who’s always going to be me, got it? ”

“Even if it makes no sense, yes,” I reply, my voice soft but steady, “I’ll support you. Every step of the way. ”

Her grin softens into something warmer, something that wraps around my chest and squeezes. “Good,” she says, her voice quieter. “Because I’m dead serious. I told the network no, I won’t be returning to their television station to work.”

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly. The whole thing wasn’t sitting right, never mind that they kept him after the whole dumping water over his head,” she begins, laughing.

“But I couldn’t go back to work for someone who decided I could come back now because my old partner left and, apparently, I became popular. I’d be helping their agenda, not mine.”

“What about Athletic Edge ? Is that on your agenda?”

“Frank is happy to give me freelance work ‘if you’re really serious about moving home, kid’ were his exact words.” She shrugs. “I’ve not ever been this loose and free, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

“So no plans?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. What’s that Martin Luther King quote? ‘You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.’ That’s my motto right now. I don’t need to know, I’m just gonna follow my heart, and it’s bringing me home.”

“Is there anyone else that’s a part of that decision?” I ask, already knowing the answer but still…I want to hear it for myself.

She grins mischievously. “Oh, you bet there is. My mother had a lot to do with it.”

“Mabel,” I say, cocking my head to the side and trying really hard not to laugh. “Is there anyone else?”

“Of course there is,” she says, biting her lip as her cheeks flush pink. “His name rhymes with Dasher.”

“I’m a reindeer?”

“You’re a unicorn,” she says as she steps down. “But I want you to be my unicorn.”

“I’m in shock.” I level my gaze, my heart threatening to burst, every inch of my body alive and snapping .

Mabel closes the gap between us and grabs my jersey in both fists. “Good,” she whispers. “That’s the effect I was going for…”

And then she kisses me. It’s the kind of kiss that steals the air from your lungs, the kind that makes the world disappear.

Her lips are warm and insistent, her fingers twisting into my jersey like she never wants to let go.

I pull her closer, my hands steadying her waist, holding her like she’s the only thing keeping me from drifting away.

The crowd erupts, but it’s just noise in the background. All I feel is her, all I see is her, all I want is her.

When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests against mine, her breath mingling with mine. “So…was this grand enough for you?” she teases, her voice low and breathless.

“It’s perfect,” I say, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “You’re perfect.”

And then I kiss her again, because one will never be anywhere near enough.