Heartless King

by Hughes, Maya

  I spun her around, gripping her shoulders. She stared at me wide-eyed.

  “You slept in a gas station parking lot.”

  She cracked a weak smile and shrugged. “Not on purpose. My back is not thanking me right now. I was tired. I fell asleep.”

  “In the middle of the night in a place where who knows what could’ve happened to you or the baby.” My fingers tightened around her arms. How was she not getting how dangerous this was? How anything could’ve happened to her? To both of them? In a blink they could’ve been gone. A random ice patch in the road, some drunk asshole in oncoming traffic, a fallen branch, there were so many things that might have taken her from me. Taken them from me.

  “But it didn’t.” She lifted her arms and jerked them down, breaking my grip. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself. Sorry for being late and worrying you, but it’s none of your business where I sleep.”

  My heart made a frantic sprint in my chest. “None of my business.” My lips were numb. “You were almost an hour late.”

  “I’ve been getting to and from the shore for over five years. I’m not your responsibility. You don’t need to keep tabs on me.” She turned on the water and shoved her hands under the warm spray. “You’ll still get in the full session.” Grabbing a towel, she wiped at her hands like they’d done her wrong.

  I wedged myself between her and the sink. Her words sent my blood pounding even harder in my veins. “You think I give a shit about our session.” My breaths were choppy and frantic. “After our night and the test.” Was it getting darker in here? Did I need to check the lights?

  “Hey.” She reached up and touched the side of my face, gazing into my eyes. The light in her eyes flickered from annoyance to concern to understanding. Her other hand rested on my chest. “I’m okay. I’m right here.”

  Enveloping her in my arms, I squeezed her tight. My chest crushed against hers and my heart tried to make an imprint with its thundering pace. “You’re here. You’re okay.” My voice was shaky. Tackling my physiotherapist, possibly now girlfriend, definitely soon to be mother of my baby wasn’t exactly the unaffected and dispassionate vibe I’d professed we’d be able to keep up when we started all this. “I was sitting here thinking of all the things that might’ve happened to you.”

  She wriggled her arms and for a second I thought she was trying to push me away, but I wasn’t ready to let go yet. Her fingers sunk into my hair, scraping against my scalp and sending shivers down my spine. She cradled my head against her shoulder with her lips pressed against my ear.

  Without a word, she seemed to know exactly what I needed. Her steady, rhythmic breaths dropped to the crook of my neck where her head fit perfectly. The gentle brush of her fingers through my hair kept time with her breath.

  I stood with my arms around her, feeling her breathe. My grip loosened after a time, it could’ve been five minutes or five hours, but slowly my heart stopped pounding and I pushed each of those vivid nightmares back into the chest at the back of my mind where those things I couldn’t bear to think about were locked away.

  I disengaged my arms from around her like a rusty vault door. “Sorry.” Ducking my head, I avoided her gaze. Not exactly the best way to show her I was a together guy who she could count on—losing my shit because she was an hour late.

  She bent her knees to catch my gaze. “I get it.” Her fingers ran along my arm and captured my hand. An energy pulsed between us. The same one I’d felt that night on the beach and the night in the bathroom and that night in the club. She’d managed to break through the walls I’d erected around myself to protect me from what inevitably happened to the people I cared about. It seemed to be a thing with us.

  “But don’t think you’re getting out of what I have in store for you today.” It was a wry smile. One that told me she didn’t see me any differently after what had just happened and she wasn’t going to cut me any slack. Even after the way I’d let her walk out of here, she was still trying to remain professional.

  “No special treatment for the heart attack you almost gave me?”

  “You’re young, you can handle it,” she called out over her shoulder.

  “About yesterday...”

  “We don’t have to talk about it. I get that it was a shock to you. Let’s tackle one problem at a time.” She turned away from me, rushing back to the sink.

  I came up behind her and braced my arms on either side of her. “Only, I don’t think it’s a problem.”

  “But you—”

  “Were shocked. I had always thought of kids as being a far off thing for me. I hadn’t thought it would happen any time soon.”

  “Neither did I.” She dropped her head, exposing the nape of her neck to me.

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m upset about it.”

  Her body went rigid and I let her escape the cage of my arms.

  She rested her back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, I’m ready to have this baby with you. Anything you need, it’s yours.”

  “You’re just getting back on your feet. You were talking about how excited you were to live your life without needing to worry about Liv anymore. And you’re just okay with this?” She eyed me like she expected me to yell ‘psych’ and run away.

  “The best laid plans, Imo. Was it what I expected was in store for me? No. But now I can think straight, and all I’ve wanted to do is tell you that I’m in.”

  She bit her lip. “Let’s talk when we’re finished.” A stall technique. I’d allow it. Not like I hadn’t needed time to get my head around this whole thing.

  Our session was more of the same, but my gaze kept drifting to the razor thin strip of exposed skin whenever she’d reach high over her head. The gentle curve of her stomach that held a little piece of us both. Strands of her hair fell around her face as the hastily done-up ponytail slowly failed to stand up to a routine of lifting and pushing.

  I curled my fingers around the weight bar instead of running my fingers down the curve of her neck. What would she want long-term with a broken hockey player? I was even more determined to get back on the ice now. I’d show her this wouldn’t kill my determination to return to the ice and be the kind of guy she could be proud to be with, that our baby could be proud to have as a dad. A hockey player who went out on his own terms, not as a washed up, broken failure.

  Gritting my teeth, I pushed on for three more reps after Imogen called it.

  Keeping her fingers away from mine, she guided the bar back to its resting spot. “We’re done for today.”

  I couldn’t get over how one hour with her could transform my world and make the scary difficult things seem less so. Maybe I should try again. The possibility that I’d be able to skate this time was tempting. I’d never had motivation like this before.

  I got up, bracing my hands on the bar. Funny how the tables had turned. For a long time I’d been hoping for a doctor to show up and tell me it was all over. I was done. Now I wanted to get back out there. Finish out my career on my terms. Be someone my kid could be proud of. Make Imogen proud and show myself I could do it.

  “They have a game in three days.” I dragged my hands through my hair, interlocking them on the back of my head.

  “You’re ready, Colm. You can do this.” Her fingers brushed against my chest.

  My heart thundered, not from the workout she’d put me through, but from the way her fingers tightened against the fabric of my shirt.

  “Thank you for telling me how you really feel about all this.”

  That wasn’t half of what I felt for her, but I could take my time. Patience hadn’t always been one of my strong suits, but I’d exercise it in spades, if it meant she’d keep touching me.

  “There’s one other thing I wanted to try this morning, but I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it.” She trailed her fingers along the physiotherapist table with small measured steps.

  This was going to be bad.
Was she going to make me run steps until I puked? Maybe put me on roller skates?

  “Rip it off like a Band-Aid. What were you thinking?” I braced myself for the worst.

  Her gaze fluttered to mine as she closed the gap between us. With both hands on the sides of my head, she dragged my mouth to hers.

  Dipping my knee, I grabbed her ass, lifting her and setting her down on the padded table.

  Our hands made quick work of my sweats and her scrubs. Off and discarded in record time, flung over my shoulder never to be seen again, if I had my way.

  She wrapped her sock covered feet around my back, digging her heels into my ass urging me forward.

  I didn’t need an invitation any louder than that. Bracing my hands on either side of her and dipping my head, I captured her nipple with my lips and teeth, teasing it as I canted my hips and sunk into her in one long, slow thrust that drew a moan from both of us.

  The sounds of our grinding, urgent thrusts were countered by the squeaking of the table. I prayed it wouldn’t collapse, because even that might not have deterred me from wringing every last hungry moan from her body.

  She tightened around me until it teetered on the edge of painful. It wasn’t long after that the electric shocks of pleasure ricocheted through every cell. I collapsed before remembering to brace my weight.

  I brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “I’m up for that workout any day you want to run me through the gauntlet.”

  28

  Imo

  Our pretense of client and physiotherapist had ripped away the second he’d wrapped his trembling arms around me when I’d arrived. The warm, floating feeling was back inside me as though it had never left, despite yesterday’s anxiety and the night in my car, blanketed by the muscled weight of Colm.

  Even through my protests, he carried me up two flights of stairs. I let it slide because he seemed to need to prove to himself that he could do it. We fell into bed and made the most of it, only getting out when the delivery man showed up with our Chinese food. I hadn’t had a day this lazy in a long time. Getting used to this could be dangerous.

  We listened to music, debating which James Bay album was his best. There might have been a cooling off period after some intense disagreement. Colm’s room didn’t feel like the makeshift cell like he’d turned it into when I’d first come to work with him. It was cozy.

  He never seemed to go more than a few minutes without a touch, a caress or pulling me onto his lap. I’d forgotten what this felt like. I let myself feel the pang in my chest that I’d kept at bay for a long time. This was what it felt like to be with someone. Really with them. It was the small moments that seemed so insignificant, but when you looked back on them, they were the ones that you yearned for most.

  I wrapped my arms around his bare chest and sank into his hold. It had been so long since it felt this natural to relax in someone else’s arms. He tapped into a part of me I’d thought wouldn’t ever want to emerge again. I drifted away on the tide of sleep, pulling further and further away from the worries of the day.

  “Sleep, Imo.”

  “You were talking.”

  He let his fingertips brush down my face, starting from my forehead and trailing down over my eyelids, closing each one, before caressing my lips and down my chin. “It’s nothing important. Get some rest.”

  The silence of the room wasn’t overwhelming or empty like it usually was during my nights. It was filled with Colm’s warm embrace, steady heartbeat, and the calm that settled over us like a cocoon.

  * * *

  “Good morning.” His lips brushed against my cheek.

  “Morning.” My groggy, sleep laden voice was nowhere near as smooth as his, which had no right to sound that good this early in the morning. “What time is it?”

  “After ten.”

  I rolled over in the circle of his arms. “I can’t remember the last time I slept this late. You really wore me out.” Grinning, I pushed myself up. Morning breath be damned. His soft, yet firm lips were my new favorite morning snack.

  With a hooded gaze, he squeezed my ass, before giving it a gentle swat. “We can’t get started with that again, not yet anyway. Are you up for breakfast? I can make waffles or French toast. There’s bacon and eggs too.” He let go of me and swung his legs to his side of the bed.

  “You cook?” I scooted up to the headboard, dragging the sheet with me.

  “Our mornings haven’t exactly started conventionally, so I haven’t had a chance to flex my skills before. Why do you seem surprised?” He tugged open the dresser drawers and pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants.

  No freaking fair. “Not many guys whip up full breakfasts on the fly. I’d imagine that number is even smaller for pro athletes.”

  “Don’t let the jars of toenail clippings fool you. I’m fairly domesticated. I had a hungry teenager to take care of, and she was only going to let me get away with cereal for so long.” He smiled, but there was a touch of sadness to his reminiscing about growing up with Liv.

  “Waffles sound perfect. Can I help?”

  “If you want to eat, you’d better.” He leaned down and kissed me on the tip of my nose.

  I got out of bed and Colm handed me one of his shirts. “No pants?”

  “You won’t need them.” His lazy smirk made my mouth water.

  The heated floor kept my feet toasty even without socks.

  Together we were wearing the perfect outfit. His gray sweatpants hung low on his hips and the white t-shirt hit me at mid-thigh.

  He poured me a big glass of orange juice and began pulling everything out of the fridge.

  I downed the ice cold drink and felt a flutter. My hand shot to my stomach and a gasp escaped my lips.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” He threw down everything in his hands and was in front of me, his gaze bouncing from my eyes to my stomach.

  He cupped my cheek. “Was it the baby?”

  “I—I think so.”

  He glanced at the orange juice and back to me. “Sometimes when you drink something cold, it can get the baby’s attention.”

  I tilted my head. “How do you know that?”

  His cheeks pinked up. “I’ve been reading up since I found out. Can I?” He nodded toward my stomach.

  It only felt a little silly that after he’d literally peeled my underwear off with his teeth, he’d worry about touching my stomach.

  “Of course.”

  He flexed his hand before settling it over my t-shirt-covered bulge. He was gentle, as though his moves might scare the baby off like a school of fish.

  We stood in silence, awaiting the movement that had stopped me in my tracks. I picked up the glass of orange juice and took another hearty gulp. It was more than a flutter this time, but I couldn’t tell if he could feel it too.

  His wide-eyed gaze met mine for confirmation.

  I nodded and he sucked in a breath and dropped to one knee in front of me, protecting his recovering leg the way I’d always gotten on his case to. “I can feel the little bean. They’re so small.” His voice was full of awe and there was a sheen to his eyes.

  I ran my fingers along his bearded chin. “It’s amazing.”

  “You’re amazing.” He placed a reverent kiss on my stomach and wrapped one arm around my back, pulling me closer. “Thank you.”

  “No thanks required.” I laughed and cupped his cheek.

  We were frozen in time, living in this perfect moment of pure unbridled happiness. It was a moment we both knew never lasted forever and could be ripped away without notice. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and my nostrils flared. Do not cry, Imo. Don’t you dare freaking cry.

  Colm let go of my waist and got up from the floor. “Let’s get you two fed.”

  We worked together in the kitchen, moving in unison, always handing over what the other person needed before they asked for it, like we couldn’t stop being aware of one another. The smells made my stomach rumble—it was probably shaking the bean
like an earthquake.

  “My first doctor’s appointment is at the end of the week. Did you want to come?”

  He looked up from his plate. “Of course. I can take you. Pick you up from your apartment and we can go together.”

  “That’s okay. It’s in the hospital across from the rehab center; I can walk across the street and meet you.”

  “I could pick you up from work and we can walk together.”

  “You don’t have to do that, really. I can meet you there.”

  He nodded, but didn’t look altogether happy about me making the twenty-yard walk all on my own. “You’re right. I’ll meet you.” He shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth with a big smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  We cleaned up and he disappeared as I turned on the dishwasher. Heading back to the bedroom, I spotted the bathroom light on.

  Standing in front of the mirror, he stared back at his reflection with a handful of shaving cream. Lifting his hand, he covered the hair with the fluffy white mixture.

  “Do you want me to help?” He turned to me with a shaving cream-covered beard, and his gaze flicked between the old-fashioned razor and me. “I promise I won’t nick you.” I entered the bathroom and hopped up onto the counter in front of him. A part of me was sad to see the beard go. The soft rub of it against my skin and between my thighs, but this was a big step to him. A return to something he’d thought he’d lost. I’d be sad to see it go, but not that he was reclaiming a part of himself he felt was gone forever.

  He nodded, held out the blade to me, and moved between my parted legs.

  Turning on the water, I tugged up the stopper for the sink.

  I stared into his eyes, before breaking the connection and lifting the blade to his cheek. Keeping my hand steady, I dragged it down, careful of the pressure, slowly revealing the old Colm one stroke at a time.

  His hips settled against my spread legs, the nudge of his growing erection pressing against his sweat pants and to my naked core.