A pink flush rose on Shea’s cheeks. “He wanted to know if this was legit, and if we were serious. I told him I was as serious about you as I was about playing hockey: that I wanted both for the rest of my life.” I sank against him, pushing my forehead against his as I squeezed my eyes closed. “Jesus, Shea.” He couldn’t say things like that to me. They unzipped me from head to toe, opened me all the way up and dumped my insides right out. I do, too, I thought. God, I do, too.
