Page 58 of Keeping Score

It was the feeling of being taken care of. Being safe. Knowing that I didn’t have to handle everything on my own, because someone was by my side to pick up whatever I couldn’t carry.

I stared at him with a pathetically lovesick gaze I was mortifyingly aware of without even seeing my own face. I couldn’t help it. He was the most handsome man I’d ever known, not to mention the kindest.

It was almost endearing how he pretended not to notice when every waitress, cashier, or pedestrian hit on him whenever he left the house.

“—you’re my favorite player,” I caught the end of whatever sentence the server was babbling at him.

“Really?” He said with a grin. “Thanks.”

“Can I get a picture with you?” she asked, sheepishly.

I smirked into the basket of chips, knowing before he said it what his next words would be.

“Sure,” he nodded predictably. “As long as my girlfriend can be in it, too.”

The waitress looked over to me, as if noticing for the first time I was there.

“Oh yeah, of course. Thanks.” She was pleasant enough, but her smile had definitely dampened.

The last few years, I’d learned a thing or two about girls who hit on Harbor Wolves players. Most of them were banking on the fact that most hockey players had a string of casual dates, so they figured it didn’t hurt to disregard the girl they were currently sitting with, since it was bound to be someone else within a week, anyway.

It just showed they couldn’t have been that big a fan of Brody, because I’d been plastered all over his Instagram for years.

He was comforting in that way. I didn’t have to wonder where I stood with him. I didn’t have to worry.

He was solid. Consistent. Everything I needed.

And when the waitress left, after getting her selfie with our table, I smiled at him. Warmly and genuinely, the feeling of it erasing whatever lingering negativity had built up from the last few days.

“What?” he said, noticing the way I stared at him.

“I love you,” I told him.

I didn’t say it a lot. Maybe sometimes I even forgot to show it as much as I felt it. But I needed him to know.

A smile overtook his face, as if it were the first time I said it.

“I love you, too, Mags.” He reached across the table to squeeze my hand.

“No, really.” I emphasized, needing him to understand how important he was to me. “You’re my favorite person. Like in the whole world. And I’m so happy to be with you.”

He blinked a few times.

“I know you’d make fun of me for saying something corny,” he responded, “and you’d punch me for saying ‘back atcha,’ so I’m weighing my options.”

I rolled my eyes at him, but kept his hand securely in mine.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed. “But you know you’re everything to me, too. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I answered, secure in that knowledge above all else in the world.

The sun would rise. There would be traffic on the I-93. And Brody loves me.

It was one of those facts that I knew couldn’t be changed or helped. And in moments like these, when it felt like everything else was unraveling around me, I was desperate to cling onto things that wouldn’t change.

Chapter Fourteen

Brody