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The corners of his lips quirked up. “You’re you and I’m me. I like that you have your own beliefs. I respect you. Does it bother you that I’m for the arena?”
“Of course not. You kind of have to be.”
He wrapped my hand in his much larger one. “I get why you’re opposed. I’m really sorry Luke has to deal with the fallout from hockey injuries. But what I hope you’ll come to understand aboutme—and this is me, Elle, not anyone else—is that I play hockey knowing the risks. I love the game, even with its imperfections.”
“But if kids see you playing and then they want to play too, what about that?”
His expression turned solemn. “The game has evolved a lot. Head injuries are taken seriously now. But they still happen. I think everyone who plays, and every parent of a kid who plays, should know the risks going in.”
I buried my face in my hands. “I like you so much.”
“I like you, too.”
“But isn’t this crazy? I mean, are we just sleeping together on the down-low? Because if that’s it, I think I can compartmentalize.”
Ford squeezed my hand. “I know this is a lot to ask of you, but will you come to a game? If you don’t want to come to anymore after that, it’s okay. But I want more than sleeping together on the down-low. I want you to see what I do from my perspective. Why I play the game.”
After the way he’d treated me, with nothing but patience and respect, it wasn’t much to ask. Somehow, despite having totally opposing views on the new arena, he made me feel like my opinion mattered but still didn’t have to affect his feelings for me. I wanted to do the same for him with his job.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll come to a game, and I’ll even leave my ‘hockey sucks’ sign at home.”
He smiled, then put his hands on my hips and lifted me onto his lap. I was both impressed and turned on by his manhandling.
“I missed you,” he said, my forehead resting against his.
“I missed you, too.”
“What do you want to do tonight?”
“Honestly?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, preferably.”
“I was up really late last night worrying about my brother. I feel like eating Mexican, snuggling up to watch a movie, and going to bed early.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“But…is that whatyoufeel like?”
“Yep. I love a good steak burrito, and I like movies. I’m tired, too. I just want to be with you, you know? It doesn’t have to be swinging-from-the-chandelier every time.”
My shoulders dropped with relief, and he laughed.
“Is that what you thought I was like? Fucking for hours every time we’re together?”
“I mean…given your body, and…your expertise, I was wondering.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tightly. “No, I’m just a regular guy who happens to be a hockey player.”
“Okay.” I closed my eyes, taking in the pine tree smell of his soap. “Thank you.”
“I do have one question before we go to dinner,” he said.
“Hmm?”
“Is that coffee I smell?”
I smiled. “Yeah. When I said I was tired, I meant it.”
