“What number is he again?” Lexi asked.
“Thirty-three.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder and turned to show her the back of the jersey. “He’s not out there.” Her heart muscles tightened painfully. Where was he?
“Is there a Ms. Smart here?” a man asked from the doorway, his accented voice rising above the crowd. He wore the same security uniform the person who escorted them in had worn.
“That’s me,” Maisie said, her voice higher than normal, sort of like her heartrate.
She walked over to the guy who leaned in for privacy. “Mr. King wants a word.”
A word? His game was starting. Her heart sank all the way down into her stomach. He couldn’t go out; he was panicking. She nodded, followed the security guard without replying, her fingers locking together so she didn’t fidget. He led her down one hallway, then another, turned a corner, and stopped under a sign that said VISITORS.
He gestured to the two opaque glass doors. “You can go in.”
With shaky hands, she pulled one of the doors open. There was a rounded, fogged, plexiglass room divider that could be accessed on both sides, so Maisie went to the right, walking into an open, musty-smelling locker room. Nick sat on one of the benches in front of a row of lockers. Even with the worry scratching along every inch of her skin, she sucked in a breath at the sight of him in his gear. His shoulders looked bigger in his dark jersey. His skates were tied, which she thought might be a good sign. He didn’t have his helmet on so when he lifted his head, his eyes locked on hers, pulling her like a magnet, unstoppable, directly to him.
She reached out, watching his eyes, which looked uncertain. Maisie ran a hand through his hair, down his face, cupped his jaw, the scruff of his beard soft in her palm. He closed his eyes, leaned into her touch and her heart nearly burst with love and affection; with the need to make things right for this man.
“What is it, honey?” she whispered the words even though it was just the two of them in here.
Nick’s hands came up to clutch her waist, pull her closer. He opened his eyes, looking at her like he wasn’t sure she was real. “What if I can’t go out there?” His voice was gravelly and rolled over her skin.
“That’s okay.” She ran her fingers through his hair again.
“It’s not,” he argued, his tone harsh.
With both hands, Maisie cupped his cheeks like he did to her when he really wanted toseeher. To make sure she sawhim. “Why not?”
He stared at her like he didn’t understand the question. “What’s wrong with me, Maze? I want to be here. I want to be on the ice. That’s my team. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.”
“Nothing is wrong with you, Nick. Nothing at all. If that’s where you want to be, we’ll get you there. Just breathe. Focus on your breathing, on where you are right this second. What do you see? Forget the ice right now. Forget everything. Just breathe.”
He curled his arms around her and in a gesture that pushed her the rest of the way over the so-in-love-with-him cliff, he buried his face in her midriff, his arms closing like a vise at her back. Maisie held the back of his head with one hand and rubbed his shoulders with the other. She kept her own breathing steady; deep inhales, deep exhales. Their breathing synced but they stayed there. It was probably only for seconds but it felt like more, and soon, his arms loosened. He looked back up at her. Maisie smoothed his brows with her thumbs, leaned down and kissed his forehead, then pulled back.
“Whether you go out there or not, it won’t change who you are,” she told him.
“Itiswho I am. Or it has been.” He sounded so hurt by his own words.
“First, it’s notwhoyou are. It’s what youdo. You can love whatyou do, but it’s not all that you are. We’ve talked about this. And even if it was who you were to your very core, people can change and shift and grow. It doesn’t have to be all you ever are. What are you scared of?”
It surprised her to see his eyes dampen, made her heart clutch in her chest. “This is my last game,” he whispered.
“What?” She shook her head, certain she hadn’t heard him right.
He held her tighter. “I’m retiring. I’ve been thinking about it and wanted to tell you but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, and then last night, after talking to you, Coach came to my room and I just knew. I’m done. My career is over.”
Oh God. Her heart beat so fast she felt it in her ears.
Putting both hands on his shoulders, she told herself that if she wanted him to be brave, she had to show him it was okay to be vulnerable no matter how terrifying it felt.
“You’re not done. Not yet. You’re here, you’re dressed, and you’re ready. And you’re not alone. Whether you get on that ice tonight or not. If you get hurt, I’ll be at your side. You can’t fail because you tried and that’s the only thing that matters. You went on the ice yesterday. Instant win. You are a strong and wonderful man who carries way too much on his shoulders. You should know better than anyone that relying on your team makes you stronger. I’m on your team, Nick. So are Lexi, Will, Ethan. Colt, Jacob, Ellie, and Asher. You are one of Asher’s two most favorite people in the world and all you have to do is exist for that to be true. Would you want him to put this kind of pressure on himself? Play. Don’t play. I don’t care. How I feel about you has nothing to do with your career. I loveyou. Your heart and your mind, your laugh and the way you look at me. Whether you’re sitting here unsure if you can move forward, first thing in the morning when you’re barely awake but willing to go get me coffee, last thing at night when your arms squeeze me right before you fall asleep like you want to reassure yourself I’m still there.Not one of the many reasons I love you has anything to do with you playing hockey. So, you’re not done. You’re just getting started and get to choose your path. You’re not only enough, you’re everything.”
She pressed her lips to his, ignoring the stunned look on his face. His gaze wasn’t hollow now. She pulled back, knowing he had to do the rest by himself. Maisie walked away knowing she’d just cut herself open and exposed everything. But she’d done it willingly, happily. Because that’s what you did when you loved someone; you gave them your strength when theirs was shaky. Gave them your faith when they’d lost their own. And promised to stand by them, no matter what.
Now, she just had to see where they landed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THE GAME WAS UNDERWAYwhen he joined the bench. No one said anything, not that he could hear them over the almost deafening roar of the crowd, the announcers. He no longer found it strange that the noise was comforting but still pushed it to the background and zoned in on the game.
