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She’s all mine.
I crawl under the sheets, wrap my arms around her warm body, and pull her against me, her back to my front. I drop kisses onto her shoulder, and she smiles.
“Are you hungry?”Because I’m fucking emaciated after that.
“The food!” she panics.
“Relax, just tell me what I need to do.”
She gives me instructions and sends me to the kitchen on a mission.
I come back to bed with two bowls of damn good lobster ravioli.How is this woman real?She’s snuggled up in my covers with a few movie options picked out. I pass her a bowl, and we devour them.
The rest of the night is spent with her curled into my body, feeling her breath against my skin, her feet brushing my calves, tracing lines and circles over her back. I’m not paying attention to whatever show is on. I just want to eternalize this moment with her and how perfectly she fits into my arms, into my life.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Dchange! D change,” Coach shouts to our bench.
My legs take over, and I jump the boards before I have time even to think. My skates hit the ice, and I fly through the neutral zone to catch up with the action.
Our forecheck kept the puck behind their net while Hanson and I made our change. Hanson is already positioned on the left and just in time for Conway to poke the puck away from one of their guys. The puck rolls along the board where Hanson takes control just inside the blue line. I’m flying into the zone, and Hanson sends the puck right to the tape of my stick like we’ve done it a million times before.
The other team swapped defenders the same time we did, but Hanson and I had a step on both of them, so when the puck hit my stick, there was only one skater between the goalie and me. Conway and Banks were still tied up in the corner with a couple of their guys, but Sully was open, closing in on the net, waiting for an opportunity, and that’s exactly what I would give him.
The opposing skater in front of me knows I want to go right for a slap shot or a wrist shot. I deke right hard, and he bites. Off balance but still in control, I dangle, and I’m in the clear.
Shit!I went too hard, and I’m moving too fast. I’ve got no chance of pulling back for a forehand shot. Hell, I’ve got no chance of keeping this edge for another second, let alone a respectable shot. I give up trying to regain my balance, and as I start to fall, I send the best pass, well, the only pass I can muster, over toward Sully.
I hit the ice and slide headfirst toward the scrum of skaters, including Conway and Banks coming out of the left corner. I can’t see shit other than the wall I’m about to hit, but I can still hear.
Wood smacks against hard rubber and then a split second later, ringing metal fills the rink. It’s the sound that makes every player and fan hold their breath.
I crash into the boards, keenly aware of how out of position I now am, but then I’m enveloped in the deep and glorious resonance of the foghorn. It’s a goal.
Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked. Ten minutes to play, and we’re finally up 1–0.
I get to my feet and am slammed against the boards once more as my teammates surround me in celebration.
“Atta boy, Burke!” Conway shouts.
“Hell of a pass, buddy!” says Sully.
“Thanks for putting it in. I would have never made it back in time if you hadn’t.”
* * *
“Madaroni and Cheese! What do you want for dinner?”
“Chicken nuggets!”
I open the cupboards and pantry, searching for some panko breading or cornflake crumbs for her requested dinner. Maddie comes over and weasels her way under my legs to peek inside the fridge next to me.
“Aunt Birdie, do you know how to make chicken nuggets? You got any chicken in here?” Mads shouts.
“I do,” she says, squeezing between us and the fridge. She opens the freezer and pulls out a bag of frozen dinosaur-shaped nuggets. For a chef, that feels like cheating.
“Two hundred degrees Celsius for twenty minutes. Not everything needs to be homemade. Besides, they taste better when they are shaped like dinos. Right, Mads?”
