Page 96 of The Shot You Missed
“Nah. He doesn’t deserve that. Seeing you happy from a distance and knowing he missed out is punishment enough.” I turn into my neighborhood, so ready to get her out of this carand into my bed. Even if all we do is fall asleep together, it’s more than I ever thought I’d get when she was with him in LA.
“Not sure he’ll care one way or the other.”
“Oh, he will,” I assure her, pulling into my garage. “You’re impossible to forget.”
Even in the dim light of my garage, the flush on her cheeks is visible. “Yeah, well, so are you.”
We walk into the house in comfortable silence. I lead her to my bathroom and point out her toothbrush, one of my tees that she can wear to bed, and I open one of the vanity drawers to show her where I’ve stocked period products and painkillers if she ever needs them.
“You did all of this for me?” Indie blinks rapidly, looking up at me, her palm coming up to rest on my chest.
“Of course, Rosebud. I want you to have everything you need to be comfortable here. Anything else you need, you tell me, okay?”
She blinks again, rapidly this time, and her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I lift my hand to her face, my fingers brushing across her soft skin before cupping her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just… None of my boyfriends have ever done anything like this.”
I’m confused. “It’s only a toothbrush and some pads.”
“You thought about me.” She grips my shirt and rises to her toes, tugging my face down to hers for a searing kiss. She tastes like cider, and I moan into her mouth when she deepens the kiss, sweeping her tongue against mine.
If this is how she reacts to something as simple as a drawer full of period products, I’m going to make it my mission to spoil the hell out of her and enjoy the show.
“I’ve always thought about you,” I murmur when she eases back to take a heaving breath. “Every day for the last ten years. And I always will.”
“I don’t deserve you. Especially not after what I did.” Her eyes flutter closed when I brush my hand across her forehead and temple, smoothing her hair away from her face.
“You were a kid, Indie. We both were. I don’t blame you, okay?”
“I blame myself. God, if I’d just taken five minutes totalkto you…” She leans into my hand, trusting me to support her.
“Sure, things would have been different. There’s no denying that. But maybe this is the way things had to happen for us to work out. Maybe if we’d started dating that summer, the distance would have broken us up. Or the pressure I was under to be the best and earn my spot in the NHL would have turned me into an asshole, and I would have blown it.” Which is entirely possible.
The pressure I was under to make my parents proud and become the kind of player the team that drafted me would actually want to call up was intense. I let it consume me for the longest time. What would have happened if I was also trying to make Indie happy at the same time?
“I know. I know you’re right. But I… I missed you so much.”
The tears in her eyes are killing me. “Brush your teeth, baby.”
“What?”
“Brush your teeth and throw on that T-shirt. Or get naked. I’m good either way. In fact, I’d prefer naked, but whatever makes you most comfortable.”
She giggles when I waggle my eyebrows at her, shaking her head. But she does as I ask. We brush our teeth together like it’s normal. Like we’ve done it a million times before. I pretend not to stare when she wiggles out of her dress and pulls my T-shirtover her head, and she pretends not to stare when I slip out of my clothes, only leaving my boxer briefs on.
“Come on, Rosebud. I want to hold you.”
Everything is right in the world when she takes my hand and lets me lead her toward the bed. The last ten years are a distant, fading memory, the confusion and heartbreak that plagued me nothing more than a phantom ache, and the future is wide open and brighter than ever.
We settle in under the blankets, and I turn off the lone bedside lamp, cocooning us in darkness. She’s warm against me, her skin soft and delicate. When her head comes to rest on my chest, I breathe her in. All of this is almost too good to be true. To have her here with me like this. To be holding the woman I love after so many years apart.
“I missed you too, you know,” I whisper against the crown of her head. “Every single day.”
“Bash…”
I love you,I think.I’ve always loved you. But she’s not ready to hear me say it. Not yet. So I keep it to myself, repeating it over and over like a mantra or meditation.
