Page 92 of Cross the Line
Carson brushed my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “You okay?”
“Probably just the effects of the hangover,” I lied.
“Any regrets about last night?” he asked. “We were both pretty buzzed.”
I shook my head. I had zero regrets about last night, but I loved that he was checking in. “You?”
He pushed away his plate then maneuvered me so I was straddling him. His gray eyes were piercing, focused solely on me. “None.”
And I knew he meant it. We both did.
Even though we were usually more concerned about being seen together in public, we hadn’t been as careful last night. That said, everyone else had been so drunk, I doubted they’d even remember it, if they had in fact picked up on the vibe between us.
After a beat, Carson said, “I’m so glad you were there to celebrate with me.” He cupped my cheek. “You are a huge reason why I was so successful this season.”
“Same.” I leaned into his touch. “You always encourage me.”
“Did you mean what you said last night?” He cleared his throat. “About not wanting this to end.”
“I, um…” I rolled my lips between my teeth, surprised by the question. But also grateful he’d broached the topic first. “Yeah.”
He seemed pleased by my answer, which was a relief. But also hesitant and cautious, which made me wary.
“Do you want to revisit our rules?” he asked.
My heart was pounding, and I hoped I looked much calmer than I felt. “Do you?”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” He whispered the words against my ear. “I hate the fucking rules.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Which ones?”
“All of them. Well—” He tilted his head, debating. “Not all of them. I’m fine with the hockey first rule. And I don’t want drama either.”
“So it’s really just the ‘no strings’ rule you have issues with.” He nodded, and I bit back a smile, my heart rate slowing. “What do you propose?”
“You tell me.” His expression was so earnest, so open, that I found myself relaxing even more. “Tell me what you need, Lo.”
I loved that he wasn’t pushing me to feel a certain way; he wasn’t making demands. Though Carson never demanded anything, unless it was in the bedroom. But we both enjoyed that. Instead, he was giving me the space to express my wants and needs.
We make the rules.
“I think we need to amend our rules,” I said, feeling emboldened by his comments. I held up one finger. “Hockey first.”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything else.”
I kissed him, loving that he knew and accepted that about me. Loving that he’d shown me over and over that those weren’t just empty words.
He didn’t try to convince me that his career was more important. He didn’t make digs about my love for the sport. He encouraged me to find more opportunities, and he understood my brand and my vision. Carson was one of my biggest cheerleaders.
I held up a second finger. “If we’re going to continue sleeping together, I want to know we’re exclusive.”
“Logan.” Carson took my hand in his, placing our clasped hands over his heart. “There is no one else for me but you.”
My throat felt as if a puck were lodged there. I hadn’t expected him to say something so…romantic. Even if that wasn’t how he’d intended for it to come across, that’s what my heart decided to hear.
“And three,” I said, our hands still clasped, my heart still tender. I told myself to draw a line, to tell him this arrangement was only until the end of the off-season. After his season started, then mine, it would be more difficult to balance the demands of our careers while maintaining our relationship. Even if I moved to LA to play for Anaheim, and that was a big if, it would still be a challenge. And yet, as I looked into his eyes, I realized that while all of that was true, I’d also been using it as an excuse. So instead, I said, “We’ll continue to reevaluate as circumstances change.”
God, I hated keeping this huge secret about my potential trade, especially from Carson. But I didn’t want to mention something that felt so tenuous. And I was afraid if I told him, I’d feel even more of a pull to move to Anaheim if they made a good offer.
