Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
The offer sits there, simple and unforced, and that’s exactly why it rattles me. She never pushes, never demands more than I can give, never pretends she doesn’t see the edges I keep hidden.
I picture her here without effort—hair still damp from the shower, one of my hoodies hanging off her shoulder—and I know she’d be here in twenty minutes if I said the word.
I also know how badly I want that.
Too badly.
No, I type finally. I just needed to check in.
Her response comes softer, even through text. I’m here anyway. You know that.
I do know that and I don’t know what to do with it.
I finish packing on autopilot, letting routine anchor me while my thoughts drift where I don’t want to follow. This trip is supposed to be simple and short. The normal roadie. One game then back home.
But all I can think about is how wrong it feels to leave her behind, how strange it is that being away from the rink doesn’t unsettle me nearly as much as being away from Daisy does.
I can’t hold it in any longer. I text her again. Want to come hang for a bit before I leave?
I don’t know when she became the place I go when everything starts to slip, but I know one thing with uncomfortable certainty—
Whatever this is between us, it’s already changing me, whether I’m ready to admit it or not.
When Daisy arrives, she doesn’t knock. She enters because she knows I leave the door open for her, always waiting for her to come and brighten up my days.
She steps inside with that familiar mix of confidence and calmness, coat half slipped from her shoulders, eyes already scanning my face. I take the coat from her without thinking, hang it up, and for a moment we just stand there, both of us aware of how much space has been collapsing between us lately.
I lead her to the couch instead of going to the bedroom, which feels natural even if neither of us says it out loud. She tucks one leg beneath her, curls toward me, hands folded loosely in her lap. I lean back, forearms resting on my thighs, trying to ignore how right it feels to have her here, like this, in the quiet.
“So,” she says, not pushing, never pushing. “Have you talked to Eliza today?”
I’ve been keeping up to speed on my dad through frequent updates from my sister, and in turn, I’ve been updating Daisy.
I take a breath before answering. “Yeah… this morning. She said things are finally settling down and Dad seems to have acclimated.”
She nods, waiting.
“The trip helped,” I continue, choosing my words carefully. “It helped my sister more than I think she even realized.” I glance at Daisy, then away again. “El sounded lighter… less like she was carrying the whole thing by herself.”
Daisy’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I’m glad.”
“She told me…,” I add, “that she was glad I brought you. It made her really happy.”
Her brows lift slightly. “She did?”
“Yeah.” I huff a breath. “Actually… she keeps saying how much she likes you.”
That gets a laugh out of Daisy, soft and surprised. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm. “She doesn’t like everyone. Can’t stand me a lot of the time.”
“Neither do you,” she counters.
I shake my head. “I like people.”
She shoots me a look. “You tolerate people.”
“Fair.”
Daisy studies me for a beat, then says, “You seem… more at ease.”
I blink. “Do I?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Just… more grounded.”
I roll my shoulders, considering it. “Maybe.”
“What do you think it is?”
I know the answer. I just don’t know how to say it without fully cracking.
“I think,” I say slowly, “being there reminded me I don’t have to outrun everything all the time.”
Her gaze softens, like she hears the part of the sentence I didn’t say out loud. “That’s good,” she says.
“It is,” I agree. Then, because honesty has been creeping up on me lately whether I like it or not, I add, “It’s also… unsettling.”
She doesn’t pretend not to understand. “Because it’s unfamiliar?”
“Because it means things are changing,” I say. “And I’m not great at that.”
Daisy shifts close enough that I can feel her warmth. “You don’t have to be great at it. You just have to be present.”
I let out a breath that’s halfway to a laugh. “You make it sound simple.”
“It’s not,” she says. “But it’s doable.”
There it is again—that steadfastness she brings into every room, every conversation. She doesn’t ask for promises. She doesn’t corner me into declarations. She just… shows up.
And somehow that feels even better. It’s what I need now.
“Eliza wanted to know if you were coming back anytime soon.”
Daisy’s eyes grow wide. “What did you tell her?”
“That you’ve got your own life here,” I say. “Which you do.”
She nods. “I do.”
“I also told her…,” I hesitate, then continue anyway, “that I like having you around.”