Page 35 of Dirty Zone

Who am I kidding?

I’d give my left nut to see him right now. To confirm I didn’t imagine us. That he’s back in my life and real.

I let out a surprise squawk when the doorbell rings.

“Sky?” Mav asks with concern.

“Hey.” I rip the door open and drink him in with my eyes. There are fat snowflakes in his hair; he’s wearing a suit and holds a bouquet out for me. He remembered my favorite flowers are tulips, and they’re arranged with Bells of Ireland instead of baby’s breath.

“Can I come in?” Mav asks, snapping me out of my trance.

“Yes, sorry.” I take the flowers and step aside so he can enter. “You didn’t have to do this,” I say.

“Wanted to.” Mav sets his bag on the bench and pulls me in for a kiss. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” I say against my better judgment. “I’ll put these in a vase.” I rush ahead to put my corner store flowers out of sight. “Are you hungry, thirsty? What can I get you?”

“Sky, what’s going on?” he asks, leaning on the end of the island, watching me open cabinets to find another vase. “It’s me. Why are you freaking out?”

I sag on the stove and admit, “I’m confused about how to do this. We’re a thing but not a thing because of me and…I’m me,” I finish.

“You’re pretty great as is.” He holds out his arms, and I crash into them.

“It’s so strange,” I say into his chest. “I know the core of you, and that you’re living your dream of playing hockey for a Cup contender. You want to travel the world. Kids make you nervous. But I don’t know where you’ve been and the places you still want to go. Do mushrooms still make you gag? Have you changed your mind about kids?”

Mav tries to untangle my arms from around him, but I can’t say the next part if he’s looking at me.

“And worst of all, I don’t know who I am. New York City decimated Skylar, but Lark survived and thrived. I’m not who you knew.”

He gives up separating us, hauls me off the floor, and carries me into the reading nook.

“Angel, I’ll call you Lark or whatever the hell you prefer. Don’t be the version of yourself that felt like a victim. But deep down, Lark and Sky are the same person, and you made it, no matter what you call yourself. You became a success.” He takes a deep breath and sags into the couch.

“Maybe I gave up on Skylar too soon. It does something to me when you call me Sky,” I admit.

“No matter your name, you’re forever my Sky. My angel.” He arranges me on his lap with my head tucked under his chin. “I’ll answer your questions. Are you ready?”

“Yes?” I’ll never actually be ready, so might as well get on with it.

“Younger me could never imagine being on any team that accepted and had openly queer players. My imagination didn’t have the capacity. Some days I can’t believe it’s real. I play for an openly queer team, and we’re mother-fucking great at hockey.

“All my travels have been centered around hockey, so I still have my bucket list. Mushrooms should be outlawed, and I don’t see myself as a dad, but I’m willing to negotiate.” His lips brush the crown of my head. “Comments?”

Silent tears run down my cheeks. I could’ve predicted his answers, but I’ve also followed his career.

“Mushrooms are amazing, but kids are not.” I smile despite what I have to tell him.

“Mushrooms are a deal-breaker,” he jokes.

“What else are hard noes for you?” I steel myself for his answers.

“Lying, disloyalty, a guy who thinks wearing sparkles is gay.” Mav’s large hand cups my ass.

“Objectively, unicorn sparkles are a gay accessory,” I fire at him to lighten the mood.

“Always with the sass.” He squeezes my butt.

“Are there things that I’ve done in my past that would be hard for you to get over?” My voice is small.