I bury my face in her neck and drive deep one last time, and the release tears through me. My arms shake. My breath comes in ragged gasps against her skin. She holds me through it, her hands on my back and her legs wrapped around me.
We lie there for a long time with my cock still inside her. Neither of us wants to separate. Her fingers trace the scratches she left on my back. The room is quiet except for our breathing and the distant hum of the city below.
“I meant what I said,” I say.
She presses her palm flat against my chest, right over my heart. “I love you, Logan Shaw. I love you when you're scoring goals, and I love you when you're losing three straight. I love every version of you.”
I kiss her forehead then hold her tightly. Within minutes, Jasmine’s breathing evens out and her body goes heavy against mine.
I don't sleep yet. I lie there and hold her and think about what she said earlier.
I want to stop hiding, Logan.
When we get back to New York, we stop hiding. We’ll tell Lorraine, then my parents.
We fly homeon Saturday morning. The girls will take a commercial flight from Pearson. The team charter leaves from the same airport two hours earlier.
I kiss Jasmine goodbye in the hotel lobby.
“I’ll see you in New York,” Jasmine says.
I press my lips against her lips one more time. “See you in New York.”
I get on the team bus. Blake hands me a coffee he bought in the terminal and goes back to his book.
The flight home is quiet. Most of the guys sleep. I sit by the window and watch the Canadian landscape give way to the gray sprawl of the northeast. We land at Teterboro just after noon, and I'm back at my apartment by one.
The place feels different after being in Maine and Toronto. I drop my bag in the hallway and open the fridge. My mother's Tupperware containers stare back at me. I close the fridge and order Thai food instead.
In the afternoon, I do laundry, ice my ankle from the blocked shot on Friday, and spend two hours on the foam roller working out the knots in my lower back. I call my parents, then text Jasmine.
She's at her apartment unpacking and doing meal prep for the week. We talk on the phone for an hour while she chops vegetables, and I lie on my couch with an ice pack on my ankle.
Monday morning, I'm at the facility for practice. The team runs drills for two hours, and Mercer works on our penalty kill structure. Afterward, I get treatment on my back and check my phone.
Jasmine: Bad news. Mabel wants me at a corporate law conference in Philadelphia all week. I leave this afternoon and won't be back until Saturday morning.
I stare at the message. I know that Jasmine sometimes travels for her work but I hate that it’s happening now.
It means I won't see her until Saturday night at the game. A whole week apart after spending nearly every night together for weeks.
Me: Can you skip it?
Jasmine: Mabel used the word mandatory three times in one sentence. So no.
A week is not the end of the world. I've done entire two-week road trips without seeing anyone. But that was before Jasmine. Before I got used to her voice on the phone at night, her body next to mine in bed, and the scent of her perfume on my pillow.
Me: I'm going to miss you.
Jasmine: It's only a week, Logan.
Me: One week too many.
Jasmine: You survived ten years without me. You'll survive until Saturday.
Me: That's different. I didn't know what I was missing then.
She sends back a heart. Then:I'll be at the game Saturday. Score a goal for me.
