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"Whatever you're having."
I’m only wearing athletic shorts and her hands stroke over my bare stomach as I make a second peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich.
I put them both on plates— real ones, Nathan would be so proud. I turn and lift one triangle of sandwich to her mouth and one to mine. Our eyes lock as we both take our first bite.
She takes the tiny portion of sandwich from my fingers, and with my hand freed, I run my fingers through her hair, brushing the deep red tresses back from her sweet face.
I swallow, then say, "I love you so fucking much."
I've never felt anything so deeply in my life. I've been lucky enough to be part of teams where I felt a connection with other people on a level that's very difficult to explain. I was raised in a family where I was loved unconditionally, and I knew that every single day.
But I have never felt the way I do about Danielle. Just her being around—whether she's in my arms or across the room—makes something inside me settle into place. She makes everything right.
She swallows, and then her tongue licks over her bottom lip. "I love you too,” she finally answers.
"I want this forever, Dani. I want to fuck you forever. I want to wake up in the middle of the night with you forever. I want to make you sandwiches forever. I want you there when I'm hurt or sick, and I want to be there when you're hurt or sick. I want to come home to you every day forever. I truly do want to be with you. Forever."
She puts her sandwich down and cups my face between her hands. "I know that."
"Then why doesn't it sound fucking stupid for me to not marry you? Why does it feel all right for me to let Nathan and Michael marry you but for me to not be ready yet?"
Whenever I say it out loud, it sounds ridiculous. If someone else said it to me—that they were dating someone who was going to marry someone else and they were totally fine with it and, by the way, they were going to keep dating that soon-to-be-married person, I’d think they were insane.
But this really does feel okay between us.
"I don't know,” she says honestly. “Because we trust each other? Because we really are in love and that doesn't have to mean anything specific other than what we want it to mean? I know it’s in part because we both understand who and what Michael and Nathan are to me. To us."
I take a deep breath and blow it out. Then I drop my hand from her face and turn and pick up both of our plates. I carry them to the breakfast bar and then tilt my head towards the stool next to me. "Let's talk."
She slides up onto the stool. I turn and position my knees on the outsides of hers, caging her in. I rest one hand on her thigh and the other on the counter next to her. "At first, I thought I was able to be content with all of this because I knew that Nathan and Michael were giving you what you wanted right now so you could be happy while you and I took our time and figured things out slowly."
She nods. "That makes sense."
"It does. And maybe that's part of it. I want you to have everything you possibly want or need. And right now, I think that Michael and Nathan are better at giving you those things. But I want to be a part of that. I want to be a part of your life. I want to be your husband someday. So none of this changes how I feel about you. None of this changes my plans. And I realized tonight, coming off the ice after the game, what maybe some of this is."
She leans over and rests both of her hands on my thighs. "Okay. Tell me."
"We’re on the way to the championship. It is the thing that I have been striving for my whole career. Probably, honestly, since I started playing seriously. It’s certainly a big part of why I came to the Racketeers."
She nods.
"But, as I skated off the ice with that win behind me, it hit me that it's not the most important thing anymore. I skated off that ice realizing that I was deliriously happy, but hockey and those wins were not the highlight of my life anymore. You are."
Her brows lift and she smiles softly. "Wow."
I grin and lift my hand to her face, stroking my thumb over her cheek. "You are so much more to me than hockey has ever been. More than it will ever be. And I know you're gonna be around longer than hockey is. But I also realized that loving hockey and getting to be the best I can be at it has taught me a few things I need to apply to us.”
She smiles. “I’m listening.”
“Hockey has taken me time. There were so many years when I wanted the championship, but I was very far from being the guy who could get his team there. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t experienced enough to deal with everything that could come at me in a game or a series. So I needed to put in the work. I needed to get better. And not just physically, but also mentally. And now the work is paying off. I’m seeing what can happen with real focus and passion."
She studies my face and I can tell she's processing everything I am saying.
"While I love you with everything in me and I have no intention of going anywhere, I don't think I'm actually ready to be your husband. That's next level. Yes, I definitely want to be the best boyfriend I can be, too, but we both know that being a husband takes something more. I think I have a little more work to do before I'm the man who can really step up and be that guy. I know you love me as I am now, and vice versa, but I think we have some more training to do as a couple before we’re ready for everything life’s going to throw at us. I want to be your champion. I’m just not quite there.”
She gives a soft laugh and squeezes my knee.
I grin too, but I shake my head. "I'm serious. I still have some growing up to do. Maturing. Things are great right now and it’s going to get better. And when I'm ready to give you everything you need as a husband, I will absolutely drop down on one knee and put the biggest fucking ring you've ever seen on your finger."
