Page 241 of On His Team

Her hand pauses for half a second, then starts moving through my hair again. “I know.”

I close my eyes. “I thought Senior Night would be the part that got to me. It wasn’t.” I lift my head and look up at her. “It’s this.”

Her brows pull together slightly. “What?”

“Not knowing if I get another game.”

Something in her face softens.

I look down again, my hands still resting at her waist. “I’ve played hockey since I was four. I know it ends.”

“Yeah,” she says, massaging my scalp with her fingertips.

“I just don’t want somebody else deciding the day.”

I pull her closer until she is standing fully between my knees again.

“There are things I’m ready for after,” I say.

“Like grad school?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

I look at her. That answer does not take any thought. “You.”

Gianna goes completely still.

I keep my eyes on hers.

“I’m not worried about you being after hockey,” I say. “I want you there.”

Her eyes get shiny almost immediately. “Rowan.”

“What?”

“That was a lot.”

“It wasn’t.” Maybe it was. I slide my hands farther around her waist. “I mean it.”

She leans down and kisses me. Nothing urgent about it. When she pulls back, she keeps her forehead against mine. “You’re getting another game.”

I breathe out slowly. “You don’t know that.”

“No.” She kisses me once more. “But tomorrow, when your name goes up on that screen, I’m going to be so fucking annoying.”

That gets a laugh out of me.

“And if it doesn’t, I’m still here.”

I pull her into my lap. She settles there easily, arms wrapping around my neck, and for a while we just stay like that.

I sleep better than I expect to.

When I wake up the next day, there’s nothing to do. No morning skate. No opponent to prepare for. No meeting telling us what the next forty-eight hours look like. The selection show is not until three, which leaves the entire morning open for thinking.

By eleven, half the team is at the rink anyway. Nobody tells us to come in. We just end up there. Fuller pretends not to notice.