Page 101 of Proposal Play

A minute later, she’s coming again, and it’s a sound I’m already addicted to. I head to the bathroom and grab a washcloth to clean her up.

Sometime later, she’s in her cami and a pair of sleep shorts, and I’m in giraffe boxer briefs. We get back in bed,and there’s a moment, maybe several, where everything’s awkward under the covers.

Where I fear she’ll want to lay down rules.

Or say that can’t happen again.

Hell, she’ll probably say it tomorrow.

But for tonight, all I want is to sleep next to my wife. I preempt her, striking first as I tug her into my arms. “Let’s just go to sleep, okay, honey?”

The implication is clear—I can’t talk about this right now.

Don’t hurt me right now.

Don’t tell me that was a mistake right now.

“Okay,” she says softly.

And like she promised the first night we spent together three weeks ago, she’s out in seconds. I’m not. I never am. When the world goes still, my mind whirs too fast, replaying the day, or shooting ahead to the next one, reviewing problems I need to solve, things I have to deal with. This time is a little different though. I’m wide awake in the dark, but I feel more peaceful than I usually do. I’m smelling Maeve’s sweet plum perfume, touching her soft skin, dreaming of more nights like this.

But knowing they may not come.

I’m tempted, so damn tempted to grab my phone and google—what to do when you’ve fallen in love with your best friend.

I’m not sure Doctor Google will have an answer I like.

Because there’s no way this can end well for us. Relationships never end well for me—they always end.

But even if I weren’t broken, even if romance weren’t radioactive, there are never any guarantees. Something will always go wrong. Something will always break. And I hate when things spiral out of my control. I hate it morethan anything. I don’t even know what to do when shit starts falling apart.

Hockey’s different. It’s unpredictable, yes. But when I play hockey there arealwayssolutions. Find a new opening, skate faster, fight for the puck harder, chase it farther.Achieve.

But life isn’t a game played in three periods on an oval two hundred feet long and eighty-five feet wide. The outcomes are too varied, too unpredictable, too permanent.

I close my eyes and try to sleep.

I breathe in, breathe out.

But my thoughts race away annoyingly. Soon, I start turning over brand-new scenarios. Imagining what-ifs I’ve barely let myself entertain before.

Like…

What if I stopped holding up all the walls and let myself explore whatever this is with Maeve? What if I let myself feel all these things for her? What if I romanced my wife?

Here’s the biggest problem with those what-ifs—what if it all goes wrong?

I shudder at the thought.

Fucking shudder. A visceral sensation that runs jaggedly through me. I wince, then turn to look at her, sound asleep, happy.

Maybe this will be enough.

34

YOU’RE GETTING TO BE A HABIT WITH ME

Maeve