Page 187 of Power Play

“We’ve talked around the hell out of it.”

“I know.” She came down one step until we were almost eye level. “I was scared to bring it up over FaceTime.”

“That makes two of us.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and I almost laughed at the surprise on her face. “Yeah, princesa. I’ve been scared too.”

That admission changed something between us. Charm took the last step, and I dropped my bag beside my feet. Her gaze fell to it when it hit the concrete before returning to my face.

“I practiced something instead while you were gone.”

A smile threatened despite everything moving through me. “That sounds dangerous.”

“It probably is.”

“What’d you practice?”

Her cheeks colored, but I waited her out. Charm drew in a breath, and when she spoke again, the words came slowly and carefully.

“Estoy orgullosa de ser tu hada.”

Every muscle in my body locked. Her pronunciation wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t give a fuck.

Charm studied my face, nervous enough now that I could see her second-guessing herself. “I think I said it right.”

I couldn’t answer yet, so she continued before I could find my voice.

“Quiero ser tuya donde todos puedan verlo.”

My throat closed. Fuck me.

Charm reached for my hand. “I wanted to say that part right.”

I stared down at our fingers. She had learned enough Spanish to tell me she was proud to be my fairy and that she wanted to be mine where everyone could see it. The woman who had spent her entire life learning how to adjust herself according to who was watching had sat on my fucking steps and given me the one promise I had been terrified she couldn’t make.

I forced myself to look at her. “You know what you just said?”

“I practiced for three days, plus the last hour here on these steps.”

“You’re sure?”

Her mouth trembled into a smile. “I said I’m proud to be your fairy and that I want to be yours where everybody can see it.”

Something inside me cracked. I caught the back of her neck and pulled her into me. She made a soft sound before her arms went around my waist, and I buried my face against her hair.

For most of my life, hockey had been the one thing I trusted enough to put first. The ice gave back exactly what I gave it. Effort mattered, pain had rules, and loss had a scoreboard. I understood winning and losing because both came with an answer.

People could love you Monday and hurt you Tuesday. They could promise forever and leave before dinner. They could call something home while reminding you every fucking day that it belonged to them. I had built my life around something that couldn’t wake up and decide I was too much trouble to keep.

Then Charm started slipping past every defense I had.

For six days, I had hated how badly I wanted her to call. I hated checking my phone between periods and realizing that after a win, before I wanted beer, food, or sleep, I wanted her voice. Underneath all of it sat the fear I couldn’t beat down, because I knew exactly what happened when something became more important than surviving without it.

Charm pulled back enough to look at me. “You look upset.”

“I’m trying very fucking hard not to lose my mind on these stairs.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening.”