Page 97 of Stand Your Ground

“Do you…want kids?” I asked carefully.

I couldn’t understand the feeling that swirled through me when I asked, the way my chest tightened and my fingers stilled where I was working on the bracelet.

But before I could digest any of it, Carter let out a short laugh — one of half amusement, half disbelief. “Me? God, no. I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head as a bigger laugh tumbled out. “I can barely keep this one alive.” He roughly scrubbed Zamboni’s head then, who peeked one eye open before letting out a huff and closing it again. “I still forgetto do laundry until I’m out of socks,” Carter continued. “I feel like a kid myself most days. And I’m in therapy, still trying to figure my own shit out.” He waved a hand over me. “Case in point, our little arrangement. The idea of being responsible for another human, of possiblycausingthe trauma that they have to go to therapy for one day? That’s terrifying.”

The sound of his laugh lingered, bright and easy, but it twisted like a rusty knife in my gut.

Carter didn’t notice as he added, “Besides, it’s not like I’ve even managed to land a girl for a date. Dad material, I am not.”

My stomach soured. I pressed my lips together, hiding the sting, tucking my truth safely away. It wasn’t like I was really considering telling him my own plans, to freeze my eggs and have a kid on my own one day, but if the inkling had been there, it was eviscerated now.

If he only knew the real trauma I held onto from my own parents, he would surely think I was certifiably insane to want a child of my own.

He looked like he was ready to ask, the words right on the tip of his tongue, but I redirected us before he had the chance.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take a vacation or something for your break,” I said, guiding us back to solid ground.

Carter looked at me a long moment, like he didn’t want to drop the previous conversation yet, but he must have read my cue, because he didn’t press. Instead, his eyes floated back to the screen as he shrugged. “Nah, nowhere I really want to go. Besides, we’re still in season. I didn’t want to clock out too much.”

“Is that why ourlazy bum dayhad to wait to start until after you ran five miles and got in a workout?”

“Listen, I’m playing the best I ever have, in large part thanks to you,” he added with a little wink, as if it was nothing, as if those words didn’t light me up like a firework. “And I’m notabout to lose that momentum. I want the playoffs. I want the Cup.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“That I want to win it all?” He scoffed. “Hell yeah. I know a lot of people don’t think we have it this year, that since we won a couple years ago, it’s not our time. But even though we’ve had some players leave, I still feel like—”

“I meant the other part,” I said, cutting him short. “That you think you’re playing your best because of what we’ve been doing.”

Carter’s expression was strange, something between a frown and a smile like he couldn’t believe I was even asking. He grabbed the remote to pause the documentary, turning to face me fully.

“You’re seriously asking that?”

“I’m sure it’s your therapist, and Coach, and all the drills—”

“Liv, I one hundred percent am playing at my best because of you.”

Why was my throat constricting?

Why did my heart feel like it was going to fly away?

“But it’s just been sex.”

“To you, maybe,” he said, another unreadable expression washing over his face. “But everything you’ve said, everything you’ve allowed me to feel… it’s unlocked something in me. I’m not overthinking. I’m taking control when I need to, without hesitation, but also falling back and letting my other teammates lead when they have the momentum. I’m acting on instinct for the first time since I was a kid.” He shook his head. “I can’t put it into words, but Iknowit’s from this. From us.” He smiled, squeezing my ankle again. “From you.”

There was no fighting my own smile that mirrored his. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

“Best two mil I’ve ever spent.”

“You spend two mil often?”

“Never before in my life, but I’m still certain.”

I chuckled, but there was a question heavy in my heart after hearing him say all that, one that felt like sludge as I tried to speak. “Speaking of which… I feel like we should check in. How are you feeling? Do you think… maybe you’re ready to graduate?”

Carter’s smile fell, but he recovered quickly. “I mean, I don’t think I’m the one who gets to decide that, Professor.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t ignore how my stomach flipped that he didn’t say yes, that he still wanted to do whatever it was we were doing.