“Nick,” Her eyes went wide, her arms up against her chest, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her sweater so just her fingers showed.
Nick closed the distance between them until he was practically pressed against her and she had to tip her head back to see him.
All of his words and feelings crashed around inside of him like his teammates fighting up against the boards, piling on, getting out of control.
He needed a referee for his damn emotions. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come but I couldn’t stop myself. You know, you shouldn’t just let anyone up here.”Really coherent, man.
Her brows and nose scrunched in tandem. It was cute as hell so he had to stop himself from leaning in and taking the kiss he desperately craved. Answers first. Kissing later. Lots of kissing.
“What?”
Nick pointed to the elevator like it was exhibit A. “I buzz, you say, ‘come on up’? I know you can take care of yourself but you have to know that isn’t safe.”
Her chin dipped. “That’s why you’re here?”
He shook his head. “No. Of course not.” Putting a hand on her hip, he breathed in, his pulse settling just from the scent of her soap and being so near.
Maisie pushed her hand against his chest lightly then turned and walked into her apartment. “I was waiting for food. I thought you were the delivery guy.”
He closed the door behind them and she turned his way, feeling better that she wouldn’t let just anyone in. But he’d known that about her all along, hadn’t he? Maisie Smart didn’t let just anyone into her heart and he knew, in his gut, that she’d let him in. Now, he needed to figure out if she’d let him stay.
Shrugging out of his jacket, his breath evening out, he used the act of hanging his coat on a little peg to remind himself to relax. To stay calm. When he focused on her, really let himself look, Nick caught the wobble of her lips, the flash of emotion in her gaze, and couldn’t take it anymore. Walking to her, he pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist.
“Part of me thought you left to get me back,” he said, feeling her stiffen. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, easing the tension out of her shoulders as he held her to him. “But that’s not how you operate. Then, I ran into Colt and he told me what happened.” Nick pulled back just enough to look down at her and see her face. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
One tear slipped from her eye and he caught it with his thumb. His chest tightened.
She sniffled, resting her hands on his lower back. “I wanted to but I had to get out of there. I didn’t think I could handle it, especially in that moment, if you’d just said goodbye and I had to face that what we had wasn’t what I hoped it would be. It was too much. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left and I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
In the quiet, dim light of her hallway, Nick’s heart began to beat properly again for the first time since he’d learned she’d left. Putting a finger under her chin, he lifted her gaze to his. “What did you hope, Maisie?”
He saw the stubborn determination in her features. His sweet, sweet Maisie didn’t want to overplay her hand. Nick put both hands to her hair, brushing it back from her face so he could see as much of her as possible. “Did you hope that I was falling for you, too? Thatthe week wasn’t enough for me either? Were you wishing to wake up with me wrapped around you again? Because I was hoping all of those things, too, baby.”
Her gaze filled with tears, her fingers curling into the back of his shirt. “Nick. I was, Iam, hoping all of those things, but your life is so different from mine. You live in San Jose. You’re on the road all the time. Jesus. You’re a famous hockey player. I’m no one.” Her voice broke on the last word and his heart cracked right along with it.
How could she think that when she waseverything? He scooped her up in his arms, spotting the couch in front of him and walking them straight to it. He sank down, pulled her close, locking his arms around her like a vise and just held her there. Just breathed her in and absorbed the feel of her body.
Something buzzed. He lifted his head, looked into her gorgeous, tear-streaked face. “Your food?”
She nodded.
“Buzz them in. I’ll get it. You go clean up. We need to talk.”
“You’re very bossy.”
He narrowed his eyes, boosted her off his lap, his lips twitching, almost curving into a smile when she walked away.
He opened the door and waited, much like she had. A twenty-something guy with long, stringy hair came off the elevator with a bag of takeout. Like the guy on the street, he did a double take.
“Dude. You’re Nick King. You in town for the game this early?”
“Something like that,” Nick said, paying him, tipping generously.
“Good luck.” He turned and headed back to the elevator.
Nick locked the door behind him and carried the food into the kitchen, which was to the immediate left of the door. Through there was the living room, and now that he wasn’t looking at Maisie, he took a minute to take it all in. Cute place. Brick fireplace across from a decent couch. Bright, colorful throw blanketson the couch and the oversize gray chair. He set the food on the tiny, round table and walked toward the photos on the mantel.
Three black-and-white photos in thin black frames, each about eight by ten, lined the plank of wood running across the face of the brick. He lost his breath looking at them.
