by Mia Luxe
7
Ford
I open the front door for Ana. She’s a striking woman, and I can see where Sierra gets her looks from. Jason has his ladder propped up against the side of the house, and he’s pulling leaves from the gutter. That’s one thing about Jason I’ve always respected: When he sees a problem, he can’t rest until it’s fixed.
I open the passenger door of the Escalade and Ana gets in. Then I sit down in the driver’s seat.
“So, where to?”
“My friend lives just fifteen minutes north. She’s going to drive us all to the spa. I’ll give you directions. That way,” she says, pointing. I drive forward.
“Well, well, well... So, I knew a couple of polyamorous folk back in college, but I never thought my Sierra would be one of them. How exactly did you three meet my daughter?”
I swallow. I was expecting questions, but it still catches me a little off-guard.
She walked into us when we were butt naked. Doesn’t have a great ring to tell a mother, but I don’t want to start off lying.
“Well, she’s a sports journalist, and she needed a story. We bumped into each other at work.”
Not exactly a lie?
“I see. Are you three… Serious? What exactly do you want from my daughter?” Ana points left, and I flick my blinker on, taking the turn.
I spare a glance over. “Ana, we’re NHL players. I get it. Young guys. You think we’re some party animals. But this isn’t some… fling. There’s something about your daughter that changed us.”
She takes a second, then nods. “Your record-breaking performance. Sierra told me. She said that you three credit her for your newfound success.”
I shrug. “I don’t understand it. I call her my muse. That’s the only way I can explain it. When I’m around her – hell, when I even know she exists – I’m more than just a man. I feel like I can do anything.”
Ana scrunches her eyes suspiciously. “And what if that feeling wears off? What happens to my daughter then? She’s never had a serious boyfriend, Ford. I’m worried about her. I’m worried about what happens if you three decide it was all a fluke.”
I smile, and I feel the certainty pulsing through me. “Even if she didn’t make me a God on the ice, I’d still be enthralled by her. She’s got a good heart. She cares about the world, and that’s something you don’t find too often anymore. Nowadays people are all so… Cynical. She’s going to do great things, and I’m going to be by her side when she does them – if she’ll have me, that is. I worry about her too. This sponsorship thing, the playoffs… It’s all happening so fast. I know she hates the idea of publicity. I have to keep her safe.”
Ana smiles slyly. “Oh, it’ll be good for her. She’s got to come of her shell someday. I loathe those tabloids. Who is anyone to say what the heart wants? Society should accept all forms of love. Maybe you four will pave new ground. Maybe you’ll change the way the world thinks.”
She points through the windshield.
“Just up there, Ford. Oh, they’ll be gossiping about me pulling up in this beautiful SUV all weekend long... But, don’t worry – I won’t speak a word about you.”
I stop at the side of the road in front of a bungalow. Ana has a fire to her that I respect. She gets out. “You stay in the car. I’ll be back on Sunday. Enjoy your weekend, Ford – and keep her safe.”
“Thank you, Ana,” I say, and she gets out, closing the door behind her. I wait until she walks to the front door and knocks, and I pause until the door opens and she hugs her friend before I pull out and leave.
I drive back to Sierra’s house, thinking of how lucky she is to have a mother who cares only about keeping her daughter safe and happy. Not someone who’s ready to judge, or alienate her daughter in an effort to try to push her towards a life that she doesn’t want.
There’s still a bitterness in me that my parents didn’t want me. A wondering of what I did wrong. What could a newborn baby have done that was so heinous his parents didn’t want him? What could I have possibly done to piss off my mom and dad so much they left me at the orphanage?
I push the thoughts out of my mind. I don’t like having chinks in my armor. The world is spinning fast – with the playoffs coming soon, possibilities of a sponsorship deal, and – most importantly – keeping Sierra protected. She needs me to be a rock. Someone she can depend on.
8
Sierra
Ford and my mom leave, and I’m alone with Caden.
A guy who had me bent over the sink just days ago – his huge, throbbing cock splitting me apart while his thumb slid into my…
Heat comes to my cheeks, and I look down, my nipples hardening in his presence. Caden takes a step forward. “Looks like your mom likes me.”
“Why do you say that?”
He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth. “Well, she left me alone with you.”
He steps forward towards me, his hand brushing up my arm and send tingles through me. I want so desperately for him to kiss me. After the pain of feeling like I’d lost them forever, I need reassurance. My body craves his touch.
He leans forward to kiss me, and it takes every ounce of willpower to step back, putting my finger up. “We have work to do, Caden.”
He looks at me with confusion, and I see the hunger in his eyes. He wants me – right here. He doesn’t care that it’s the kitchen of my old family home. If I let him, he’d bend me over the table and make me scream his name.
“Work? You mean cutting up the tomatoes? I’m basically a sashimi chef with a blade – I’ll have them done in no time flat. We’ve got plenty of time for…”
He takes another step forward, and I want nothing more than to let him wrap his arms around me… To feel his hands squeezing my ass as he pulls me into his embrace.
I shake my head. “We need to think of a believable, alternative explanation for those pictures the paparazzi took. I want to be able to face my job with some dignity. I don’t want to be known as the girl who’s chasing athletes, and I don’t want to blush and feel embarrassed every time someone brings up that stupid magazine.”
Caden shrugs. “It looks pretty clear: You coming out of my apartment building at two in the morning. Our publicist said the best way to frame it is that we’re dating. Young love. You should have stayed over – I’d have cooked you breakfast.”
There’s an edge to his voice that grates me. “Caden, you need to take this seriously. This is my life.”
He nods. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll think. Maybe… Maybe you were at the building for some reason other than to meet us. I know that’s not great, but I’m trying.”
“Good.”
He can sense I’m not in the mood for playing around, and takes a sip of his coffee – looking me up and down as if he’s seeing me for the first time. I pour myself a cup, indulging in the warming liquid. I take my coffee black.
Suddenly, a giggle leaves my mouth.
“What is it?”
I shake my head, looking at Caden. He makes the little kitchen look so small. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, as if he’s some regular run-of-the-mill guy and not a rising star. The shirt hugs his muscles, showing off his broad shoulders and powerful chest. He puts down his coffee and crosses his arms, the veins on his forearms making me lick my lips.
“No, it’s just… This is where I grew up. Sure, I had friends over and stuff, but… Seeing a star hockey player in my kitchen… It’s a little too crazy.”
Caden uncrosses his arms, leaning against the counter and grinning. There’s such an exuberance to him. Jason and Ford can be so serious. There are rough patches under their surfaces, but Caden just feels… Good. Like jumping into a cool spring in the dead of summer. When he grins at me, flashing his movie-star teeth, I feel like I’m running in a field, chasing after birds like I did growing up. Weightless.
“You’re calling me a star hockey player now. That didn’t take long.”
“With a star-sized ego.”
He laughs, and it feels good. There’s a clunk from outside, and I’m made aware that not only is there a star hockey player in my kitchen, there’s one cleaning out the gutters outside. I hear the engine of the Escalade, and I know Ford is pulling up.
The door opens, and Jason and Ford walk in. Ford is wearing a button-up white shirt and olive chino pants with brown boots, and he looks so crisp and sharp. Jason is in more athletic wear – a weathered grey crewneck that hugs his huge form, and black sweatpants. Yet instead of looking sloppy, like most guys would, Jason looks ready to run sprints and drills. If he’d exerted himself in any way, pulling that ladder around while cleaning the gutters, he doesn’t show it.
“Gutters are all clean. Has no one been taking care of this place?” Jason asks the question without a trace of judgement.
“It’s just my mom here. She always talked about selling the home and buying a smaller place after my dad passed, but I guess we’re both sentimental.”
Jason nods. “I’m going to put a fresh coat of paint on it tomorrow. It feels good to use my hands.”
I can’t wait for you to use them on me.
I smile. “You know, you don’t have to do that!”
He shrugs. “I like it.”
He and Ford kick off their shoes and walk into the kitchen, and I’m alone with them again. Caden gives them a nod of greeting. “We’ve all got work to do.”
Ford looks at me with those bright green eyes. “You want to think of some way that tabloid is wrong, don’t you? I knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with Marissa Tang’s plan.”
I lick my lips. “How did you know? I just told Caden.”
He nods. “It’s obvious. I’ve been thinking of it the whole way up. But, I’m sorry, Sierra – so far I’ve got nothing. But we’ll think of something. If two heads are better than one, let’s see how well four do. Well, three and half… We can’t give Caden too much credit.”
Caden punches Ford’s shoulder. I wince, but somehow Ford doesn’t even flinch against a blow that would have knocked me right over.
Jason nods slowly. “You know, I could live out here. It’s quiet. I like it. Hell, I’d move out to the country if it wasn’t so far from the games. Ha, maybe that’s what I’ll do. Hole you up in cabin in the mountains, far away from the magazines and paparazzi. You’d never have to leave the bedroom.”
Alone in a cabin with Jason. Far away from the world.
“And how would I become a journalist then? How would I do what I want do to with my life, sitting in a cabin waiting around for you three to visit?”
Ford smiles. “I’d never leave. Alright, who’s hungry?”
My stomach grumbles, and the three of them laugh. “I’m always hungry,” says Jason, opening the fridge and pulling out the package of ground beef from the butcher. I get a surge of nostalgia. I can remember my father cooking on the barbeque. The memory is hazy. Just… the smells are left, and the sound of rain. He barbequed in the rain? I never thought that was strange, until now. Maybe it’s not. Maybe you can’t let life – or the weather – stop you from doing what you want to do.
I point to Caden. “You’re on tomatoes. Ford, can you do the burgers? And Jason… Um, wow. With all of you around, there really isn’t that much work to spread!”
Jason laughs, a deep rumbling sound. “I’ll get everyone drinks. Most important job there is.”
“Great! I’ll set the table. It’s cool out, so we’ll eat inside.”
Ford is already opening cupboards, finding a huge mixing bowl and putting it on the counter. He cracks an egg into it and starts mixing spices and sauces. Caden grabs a knife and the tomatoes, and starts chopping. Jason opens the fridge and pulls out four beers. “IPAs. Your mom has good taste.”
I make a face. “I heard those are hoppy. I’ve never tried one.”
“First time for everything,” says Jason, opening the bottle and pouring the beer in a glass. I set the table and he hands it to me. I sip, and I’m surprised to enjoy it.
The kitchen isn’t that big, especially for three huge men, but somehow they work like a machine. I guess all the time spent practicing together means they can practically guess where each other is going to move or shift before it happens. I look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. The three of them have everything covered. Jason pulls out a chair for me to sit, and I plop down. He sits down next to me.
“I could get used to this,” I say, and bite my lip in embarrassment.
“What? Having three men taking care of your every need?”
I laugh. “Maybe.”
Jason smiles. “You’ve got my services as long as you want them. God. I can’t believe we’re going to playoffs. I dreamed about winning the Stanley cup since I was… Hell, for as long as I can remember. Since I was a little kid.”
I giggle. It’s hard to imagine the huge bear of a man next to me as a little kid. What would our kids look like?
And that’s a crazy thought.
“You guys are going to win. I can feel it.” I’m already envisioning them lofting the Stanley Cup above their heads. I never used to care about hockey, but now that these three men are intertwined in my life, I’m aching to watch their next games.
For the first time, I see a hint of vulnerability in Caden. It’s the way he pauses while cutting the tomatoes, the moment I say they’re going to win. He turns, putting the knife down.
“The thing that scares me the most is doing my best and falling short. Putting everything out there, and still not being good enough.”
Ford balls ground beef, putting another circular burger on a plate. “Caden, most men never try a hundred percent. Do you know how fucking scary it is to try your absolute best? It makes you accountable.”
I fiddle with my beer, unsure what Ford means. “Accountable?”
Jason nods, as Ford continues. “Yeah, accountable. No excuses. When people fail, what do they say? Oh, I didn’t really care. Oh, I missed that promotion because I’ve got other things… Kids, obligations, whatever… Doesn’t matter. People rationalize it – claiming after the fact that they didn’t really want whatever it was that badly. That if they’d truly cared about it, they could have given it their all and got it.”
Jason sips his beer, wiping his mouth and clunking the bottle down. “But that’s not always what happens. When you put your all into something – when you don’t hold back, and you go forward with full energy, truly committing yourself to something… Well, that’s when you’re at your most vulnerable, because no matter how committed you are, you still might fail… And, if you do, it’s not because you weren’t committed enough. It means you weren’t good enough.”
Jason turns to his brother.
“I get what you mean, Caden. But we just have to commit to it anywat – to fight forward. We just have to play our hearts out, leave every fucking drop of effort on the ice, and even if we fail, we can sleep well knowing we gave it our all – no matter what happens.”
Caden chops the last tomato and washes his hands, nodding. “You’re right. Hell, I know what’s going to happen: We’re going to fucking crush round one of the playoffs. You know how I know?”
Jason grins. “Because we’ve got our secret weapon?”
He leans over, smiling, and kisses me on the cheek. I blush as the three men turn to face me, and it isn’t the lust in their eyes that makes me shiver. It’s something deeper. Something… protective.
Adoration.
“You three.” I shake my head. “I’m still certain this is all a coincidence.”
Ford shakes his head. “No, it’s really not. Sierra, it’s not just that you’re fucking gorgeous. It’s not just that you’re the reason we’re the best players in the NHL right now. When I look at you, I see the goodness in the world that people forgot existed. That pure, just, goodness. I’m going to be there for you, Sierra – no matter where this crazy life takes us.”
I don’t know what to say. What can you say, to something like that? No one talks lik
e that. Not anymore.
Jason nods slowly. “This world is so fucking cynical now. I don’t know what caused it. Maybe I’m looking back at the past with rose tinted glasses, but it feels like… It feels like everyone’s just waiting for the worst these days. Sierra, tell me a little more about why you got into journalism? What made you take that internship when you don’t seem too interested in hockey?”
I run my finger around the top of my beer bottle, the glass cool against my finger. Ford washes his hands and puts the burgers in the fridge. Caden leaves the sliced tomatoes on the counter and sits in front of me with his half-finished beer. The three men look at me with full, rapt attention. I’m so used to people who pretend to listen – people who are always on their smartphones the moment there’s a lull in the conversation, or a pause.
Now the three of them are waiting for my answer, and I feel a little shy.
“I… I’ve always wanted to be a writer, like my dad was.”
Caden cocks his head. “Did you…” He gulps. “How old were you when he passed?”
There’s the deep sadness in me that comes out when I talk about my dad. I wish so badly that he could be here now – that he could have been there at my high school graduation, and that he could still be here to laugh and smile at me. That he could be around to give these three a hard time, and man the grill, no matter if it rained or not. The decision forms in my head. I’m going to go into his study.
“I was four. I don’t remember much about him – just, smells… Feelings… Shapes. And what my mom told me. You know, it’s funny, I just found out he was a professor before being a copywriter! I thought when my mom told me that, I’d feel like I didn’t know my dad at all – but somehow, I just feel closer to him. My mom was his student.”
Ford laughs. “Scandalous. Well, almost as scandalous as us. No wonder your mom is so chill.”