Page 158 of Only Ever You

“You want me to stay?” Isla whispers. “Or would it be better if I leave? You probably need space. This is…huge.”

I turn and clutch her hand to my chest. “No. I don’t need space. Not from you.”

“I don’t want to distract you. You need to talk to your dad.”

“You’re not a distraction.” I scoot closer and kiss her knuckles. “I need you here.”

She nods, her lips pressed together. “Then I’m staying.”

I take the mug from her hand, put it on the nightstand, and pull her to me. She sits between my legs, her back pressed to my chest. When we were kids, I liked cuddling her like this. It was comforting. Peaceful. Having her in my arms put me at ease, and that hasn’t changed a bit.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

“I don’t know yet. I’m still processing.”

“Understandable. It’s probably similar to how I felt when I found out I was going to the Olympics. It was my dream, still is, and this one is yours.”

“It is, but a life with you is my dream too,” I confess. “I can see my future clearly, but only because you’re in it. Because you are an inevitable part of my life.”

She swallows. “I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You never were.” I squeeze her tighter. “And you never will be.”

She tilts her face up, our eyes meeting. I bend and kiss her slowly. The need to be closer is maddening. Since the moment she kissed me in this room that first time, this desire has been burrowing deeper and deeper, and now, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.

The buzzing of my phone tears us apart. She picks it up from where I dropped it on the bed and holds it out to me.

Slowly, I untangle myself from her and stand. Phone pressed to my ear, I answer, “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, kid.”

“They’re calling me up,” I say, voice cracking despite my effort to keep it steady.

“I know,” he says simply. “Pablo called me when he couldn’t reach you. I don’t know many details, but he gave me enough to paint a picture.”

“I don’t know much either. But I have to be in New York on Tuesday.”

“Okay.” He lets out a long breath. “I’ll be on campus tomorrow to meet with the dean. We’ll figure out what to do about school.”

“I wasn’t expecting this at all. My mind is a mess.” I stop in front of the window and run my fingers through my hair.

“Don’t overthink it. You’ll do well,” he says confidently and without a second of hesitation. He’s always believed in me.

“I don’t know. I…” I tug at my hair.

“What’s on your mind? Talk to me, Michael.”

“I’ve been compared to you my whole life. You were my role model. An NHL legend. I wanted to be just like you. But hearing over and over that I’m nothing like you, that I’ll never measure up…” My voice cracks. “What if they get me there and realize I’m a fraud? That I only got this because I’m your son?”

There’s a pause on the line. Then, Dad clears his throat. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned this before?” he asks quietly. “Michael, I’m sorry you’ve been carrying that alone.”

I press my forehead to the window and close my eyes.

“Yeah, my name might’ve put a spotlight on you,” he continues, “but that’s where it ends. Everything else? That’s you. Your work. Your talent. Your grit.”

I suck in a breath. My lungs constrict.

“I love watching you play. Always have. For me? You’re amazing. I always knew you were gonna be better than me. Greater. Not because you skate like I did, but because you don’t. Because you are Michael Thompson, and you’re carving your own path to the NHL. Building your own legacy.”