Page 141 of The Play Maker

She exhales shakily.

“Trust me, baby. I’m good with waiting. Months. Years. However long it takes for you to feel comfortable and open up to me. Don’t think about my past because all of that is irrelevant. The only thing that matters to me is how you feel. I’m not in any rush. I’d lie in this bed with you a hundred times and never ask for more than this if that’s what you want.”

She sniffles, tears glinting in her glossy eyes, and her lashes stick together. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what, baby?” I ask her, wiping the tears under her eyes.

“Too good to be true.”

“Definitely not too good to be true,” I say with a shake of my head, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. “I’m just trying not to fuck this up. Because you matter to me.”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Just shifts forward and presses her forehead into my shoulder.

After a while, she whispers, “Will you stay? I don’t want you to leave.”

My whole body softens. “Yeah, Mais,” I whisper, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “I’ll stay.”

She changes into comfier clothes and makes me face the wall while she does it—pure agony—and when she finally climbs into bed, she curls into me without a word, her cheek pressed right against my chest.

She puts on some old movie I don’t recognize. She mouths the lines, and I barely register the plot because I’m too busy watching her.

Eventually, her breathing slows, her lashes rest against her cheek, and she falls asleep right there, tangled up in my arms.

A smile tugs at my lips as I close my eyes, feeling her heartbeat steadying against mine.

I’d wait forever for her without a second thought.

30

AUSTIN

Idon’t usually get nervous before games.

But today, I keep glancing up at the stands.

I’ve already untaped and re-taped my stick twice. My fingers are twitching nonstop—tugging at the hem of my jersey, cracking my knuckles, fidgeting with the pads I’ve worn the same way for three years.

Because today, my mom and sister are coming.

And Maisie’s here too.

Which is fine. Totally fine. I’m not freaking out or anything.

Okay, I am. It’s just… I’ve never really had anyone to bring around before. Never introduced a girl to my family.

So yeah, I’m nervous as hell.

Before I even pull on my helmet, I crouch down by my skates like I always do. I press two fingers to my lips, then tap them to the side of each skate.

“Don’t let me down boys,” I murmur.

I drag my hands through my hair, stand up, and blow out a breath.

When I push open the locker room door and walk out onto the bench, the sound hits me instantly. The arena’s alreadypacked. People are banging on the glass. It’s loud. Hot. Tense. Everything I love about hockey.

I’m still buzzing when I skate toward center ice, adrenaline pounding in my veins.

Ryan smacks me on the helmet as he settles into position.