Page 42 of The Reckless Rookie

Catt turns her head. “You alive?”

“No.”

“Tragic.”

“I died happy.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

I laugh against her shoulder. She laughs too.

Eventually I pull away, deal with the condom, tie it off, throw it away, and make it about three feet before both of us give up on functioning like adults.

We end up sitting on the kitchen floor with our backs against the cabinets. Her dress is pooled around her hips. Her head rests on my shoulder.

My heart is still going too fast. It always does. Her hand comes up and settles flat over it like she’s checking.

“Quédate,” she murmurs into my chest.

Stay. The word gets all the way in before I can stop it.

“Can’t.”

The men. Dawn. The truck. All still true.

“You know I can’t.”

“I know.”

Her hand doesn’t move. “Asking anyway.”

That one gets me. She knows I have to leave and asks, anyway.

I want to say yes more than I’ve ever wanted the ice, the win, eighteen thousand people screaming my number.

My heart kicks harder beneath her palm.

“Stop that,” she says.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re about to talk yourself out of.”

“I’m not talking.”

“You don’t have to. Your heart gives you away every time.”

I look down at her. Her eyes are open, fixed on mine. Half a smile against my neck. Her palm still flat over the proof.

I keep waiting for the catch. Every good thing I’ve ever had came stapled to a bill, and this one’s the best by a distance that isn’t close.

But she’s here. I’m here.

And for once I do what she’s been trying to teach me since I came through that gate. I stop doing the math.

I stay until the last second I can. I don’t count what it costs.

Happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I don’t even have the decency to be scared of it yet.