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She stops. I'm close enough to see the shock cross her face.
“What?”
“You heard me. It's my career, Quinn. My life. If I decide being with you is worth whatever shit comes with it, that's my decision.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By breaking my fucking heart?”
Her eyes fill instantly, and seeing it nearly guts me. “By making sure you don't throw away everything you've worked for.”
“And who decided that's what I'm doing? You?” I shake my head. “You didn't protect me. You made the choice for me because you didn't like mine.”
She looks away, but there’s nowhere to retreat in the cramped closet. We’re already standing so close that when she shifts, her arm brushes mine.
The tiny contact goes through me like a fucking shock.
Her eyes drop between us, and I know she felt it too. For one second, neither of us moves. I want to close those last few inches so badly it physically hurts, but I force myself to stay where I am.
She doesn’t get to hide behind her dad’s warnings anymore. Not from me.
“Forget your dad.”
Her gaze comes back to mine. Her eyes are wet, her lips parted, and her mouth is only inches from mine, close enough that I can feel her soft breath against my lips.
“Forget LA. Forget trades, contracts, ice time, and whatever might happen five years from now. Do you want me?”
Her lips part, but no words come out. My eyes drop to her mouth before I can stop them.
“I’m asking one more time, baby. Do you want me?”
Her throat moves as she swallows. Then she whispers, “Yes.”
The word hits me square in the chest.
I take a breath but don’t move toward her. “Do you love me?”
Her face crumples.
“Yes!” She wipes angrily at the tear that escapes. “Of course I fucking love you. That’s why I did this.”
There it is. I knew it, but hearing her say it still knocks something loose inside me.
Quinn presses her lips together before continuing. “I just could never live with myself if you ever ended up resenting me for this.”
“You keep worrying about some future version of me hating you because I chose you. What about the version who hates that you never let me choose?”
Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“What if my career is fine, Quinn? What if I’m still in LA, or I’m somewhere else and happy as hell there, and the thing I regret is that I let you walk away because you were scared of something that never even happened?”
“You don’t know that.”
“No. I don’t.”
I move closer, slowly this time, closing some of the little space still left between us.
“And neither do you. That’s the fucking point.”
