by Ellen Devlin
Chris felt a deep warmth at the compliment and a quick squeeze in his chest. “There are some women who are mostly trying to notch their bedposts with players. And I’m not gonna lie, my rookie season that attention from the puck bunnies was overwhelming and really, really flattering. I had never experienced anything like that before, so I had the occasional, um, ‘encounter’ shall we say, but I haven’t dated much. And I’ve never been too into casual sex—I’m not against it, mind you, and as I just said, I’ve indulged on occasion—but it’s not who I am, if that makes any sense. I’ve always been pretty shy, really, so randomly picking up a woman at a bar was never going to be in my wheelhouse.”
Paige flagged down the waiter and asked for more guacamole and chips, as well as drink refills.
“I’m still amazed at the thought of you being shy. I know you do media interviews sometimes after games; I’ve seen you do them.” She picked at the little shards of chips still left in the bowl. “You seem completely at ease in front of the camera.”
Chris smiled, obviously pleased at the comment. “Thank you. I really appreciate that; it’s part of the job, so it’s important to me to do that well, and I’ve worked really hard at it.” He paused a moment as the waiter brought the replenishments. “But that’s just what it is—part of the job. It’s part of hockey. That makes it easier for me, somehow. It’s the personal stuff that gets me all flustered and makes my palms sweat.”
Paige returned his smile, feeling the now familiar warm glow in her chest. His quiet openness, his vulnerability when they were together, was precious to her. She reached across the table and took his hand, rubbing her thumb across his palm.
“Not sweaty now.”
He held her hand and brought it up to kiss her knuckles. “Not anymore, baby. Not with you.”
“Thank you.”
The corner of his lips twitched in a little smile. “For what?”
“For trusting me.”
He stared at her for long enough that she asked, “What is it?”
“We need to get the bill paid and get out of here. Soon.” At her questioning look, his voice dropped into a low growl. “I need to get you alone. It’s been way too long.”
Flutters, butterflies, and a rush of tingling arousal hit her all at once, almost making her dizzy with want. It must have shown on her face, because Chris flagged the waiter, handed him enough cash that it probably covered the bill twice over, and pulled Paige toward the exit.
***
“Hey, Liz, the team is going to be on a three-game home stand, so I was thinking of having Chris and Zee over for dinner Friday night. Would that work for you?”
Liz grinned broadly and said, “Look at you, throwing around hockey lingo. ‘Three-game home stand.’ Ha!” Paige gave her a look of mock irritation. Liz added, “Of course. Do you want me to be here or to make myself scarce? Either is fine by me.”
“Here! I’m sorry, I was trying to invite you, not ask you to leave.”
Liz smiled, saying, “I guess if you’re inviting Zee, you’re going to need a buffer zone to keep your sanity.”
With a small smile, Paige replied, “That thought might have occurred to me. But I really just think it will be fun.” She paused for a moment. “I’m a little nervous too. That’s kind of weird, right?”
“Nope, not weird.”
Paige looked unconvinced, so Liz moved over to put her arm around Paige. “This guy is different. It’s okay to be nervous. You’re a great cook, and Zee is a perfect distraction. You’re a genius.”
***
Paige had decided on something simple. It was the first time she had invited new people over for dinner in forever, and it was the first time she was going to cook for Chris, so she went with a staple that made her feel confident—spaghetti and meatballs.
Her grandmother had taught her how to cook. Paige had lovely fond memories of hours spent in the kitchen with “Grammy,” learning how to make pasta from scratch, how to form perfect ravioli, and how to make exceptional sauce. While she wasn’t going to take the time to hand-make pasta on a weeknight for Chris and Zee, she was fully intending to make an amazing sauce.
Chris arrived first, with a bottle of wine and a small but beautiful bouquet of flowers. Liz answered the door with a surprised, “Oh, for me? You shouldn’t have.”
“And you know that I didn’t.” Chris had quickly become completely comfortable around Liz and took her teasing in stride. “But how about a hug and kiss on the cheek. Deal?”
Liz rolled her eyes, made a “tsk” sound, and said, “Whatever,” while offering her cheek to Chris.
Zee arrived a short while later, with beer. Liz grinned broadly as Zee practically bounced in the door and scooped her up for a feet-off-the-floor hug. “I’ve missed you! How am I supposed to manage meeting chicks in bars without my wing-woman? You’re going to have to start traveling with the team.”
Chris grimaced while the women laughed.
“Sweetie, I’m quite certain you have no problem chasing down puck bunnies on the road.” Liz pinched his cheek playfully.
***
As expected, dinner was cooked to perfection—al dente pasta, sauce that was just the tiniest bit spicy, meatballs tender and flavorful. Liz suspected that if she measured each meatball there would only be millimeters of variance in size between them. Paige had a gift.
Chris and Zee ate like…well, like pro athletes who would be burning up every calorie the next time they were on the ice. It was astounding how much food they could put away. Especially Zee. At only twenty-two, it was entirely possible that he was still growing, at least in the sense of bulk.
***
One magnificent meal, a bottle of wine, and a whole lot of beer later, Paige and Chris quietly vanished, leaving Zee and Liz chatting.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Zee. It gives me someone to talk to now that the inevitable has happened…they’ve wandered off to Paige’s room and have forgotten that the rest of the world exists.”
“No way! Fascinating.” Zee got an evil gleam in his eye. “How often does that happen? Are they loud? Are we going to be treated to a show this evening?”
Right on cue, they heard a low, distinctly masculine groan of pleasure.
“All the time, yes, and apparently so,” Liz answered Zee’s questions in order. She got up to turn the volume up on the music.
“Oh, man.” Zee looked practically giddy. “I should record this.”
“Don’t!” Liz reached out to stop Zee from pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Don’t. Paige wouldn’t find any humor in that at all. She would be very upset.”
“Fair enough.” Zee relented and gave Liz a look of interest. “I get the feeling that if it was you, you’d probably laugh. Am I right?”
“Ha! Possibly.” Liz’s eyes sparkled a bit. “But it’s not me, so don’t get any ideas, buster.”
Zee settled back on the couch and looked more intently at Liz, shifting the topic somewhat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you—why isn’t it you?”
“What?”
“Where’s the guy in your life, Liz? There must be one.”
Liz smiled. “Nope.”
Pressing the subject further, Zee asked, “Are you not into guys?” Thinking just briefly, he continued, “Are you into girls? Holy shit, you and Paige?” Eyes wide, gathering steam now, “And Becks? What the fuck kind of kinky joint are you running here, Williams?”
Liz was laughing hard, and she paused to wipe her eyes before responding. “No, I am so sorry to disappoint you, but I am one hundred percent into guys. There just doesn’t happen to be one right now.”
“I could set you up…”
Still chuckling, Liz said, “No. Thank you, though.”
“Are you sure? There are some guys I know…”
“No, really. I’m just not currently interested.”
“Bad breakup?” Zee was now just curious. He had become close enough with Liz that he felt comfortable asking for more informat
ion, although he suspected he might be overreaching.
“Oh, sweetie,” Liz sighed. “I promise I will tell you all about it in the morning.”
Perking back up immediately, Zee asked, “Is that a proposition?”
Liz chuckled and replied, “No, but you’re definitely not driving. I will take the couch; you can have my bed.”
Zee stood up and stretched, giving Liz a pouting look. “No threesomes…no girl-on-girl action…and now no girl in my bed. You’re lucky I like you so much or this would be a very disappointing evening.”
“You are an idiot.” She cuffed him and gave him a shove in the direction of her bedroom. “Go to bed.”
Zee gave her a big hug and said, “Good night, Liz.”
***
The next morning, Liz was up and had already made coffee by the time Paige and Chris emerged from the bedroom.
“Good morning. Cinnamon rolls are in the oven,” Liz said, taking a seat at the table with her mug.
They both got cups and joined her, chatting quietly as they waited for the pastries to be done.
“Dinner last night was inspired, Paige.” Liz sipped her coffee, adding to Chris, “Apparently, inviting hockey players over brings out the best in her cooking. You guys have to come over more often.”
“Are you kidding? Any time.” Turning to his girlfriend, he added, “That was an amazing dinner, Paige.”
Zee emerged from Liz’s room, shirtless and rumpled, drawn by the delicious aromas. “Oh, thank God, I smell coffee.”
Chris’s mouth was hanging open slightly, and Paige turned to Liz with a look of silent shock.
“Good morning, sweetie,” Liz greeted him. “Sugar and creamer are next to the coffee pot; cinnamon rolls will be done soon.”
Chris and Paige were still staring in mute disbelief when Zee joined them at the table. Liz sipped her coffee to hide her smile. Zee seemed unaware of anything but the life-giving liquid in the mug he was holding.
Paige broke the silence.
“So, Zee, did you sleep well last night?”
Zee grunted an affirmative, adding, “Coffee before talking.”
Chris was still looking slightly stunned. “Um…” He was searching for a way to address this. “So, you two…?” He left off in an obvious question, and Liz tried not to let her smirk show. Zee was oblivious.
Liz answered carefully, waiting, pausing, trying to time things just right.
“Yeah, definitely…” Chris took a drink, and Liz struck. “We were out here fucking like bunnies.” Chris choked and spit out his coffee.
Paige said, “Oh my God, Liz!” and Zee, startled out of his stupor, started laughing deep belly laughs.
Liz continued, “I’m surprised you didn’t hear us, Chris. We were loud.”
Zee was having trouble breathing by this point, and Paige was shaking her head, trying not to laugh at Chris’s expense. Chris was wearing his coffee, along with an expression of shock, which was slowly changing to realization and understanding.
“I’m trying to decide if I hate you,” Chris said, shooting a look of exasperation toward Liz as he started toward the bedroom to change out of the coffee-soaked shirt.
“You love me,” she responded. “I’m fun!”
He snorted in amused frustration, and Paige just shook her head at Liz.
***
After everything had calmed down, and after cleaning up the kitchen, Paige and Chris left to run a few errands, leaving Liz and Zee alone.
“So,” he said, kicking back on the couch and making himself comfortable, “what’s the story? You promised that you would tell me exactly why you’re single and won’t let me set you up with some strapping young hockey player.”
Liz sat down. “Didn’t forget about that, huh?” Zee shook his head.
“Nope. Not a chance.”
Liz’s smile was small and a bit sad. Zee sat up and reached out to her, realizing suddenly that there was more to this than simply a bad breakup.
“Shit. Do you not want to talk about this? Is there something I can do?”
Taking his hand, she said, “No. No, Zee, it’s okay. If I didn’t want to tell you, I would have said so last night. It’s just not a happy story.”
He listened quietly as she told him about Jimmy, her fiancé who had died in a car crash more than a year earlier. Liz let the tears show, and Zee held her hands and then pulled her into his chest for a deep, squeezing, comforting hug, murmuring, “I’m so sorry, Liz,” into her hair.
She hugged him back and then pushed back from his chest and wiped her eyes, smiling at him.
“Jesus, Liz, I’m an asshole. I’m so sorry I made you tell me.”
“No! No, Zee, don’t be ridiculous. I promise, if I didn’t want to talk about it, I would have said so.” She sniffled a little. “I actually need to be able to talk about him, and I’m really glad you’re such a good friend already that I feel safe talking about him with you. Thank you, sweetie.”
“Damn, Liz. I just made you cry and you’re thanking me? Ya big weirdo.” His mouth quirked into a grin, and Liz laughed.
“So, anyway, although I truly appreciate the offer of being set up, I have had a few dates recently, and they were singularly uninspiring. I realized that I’m just not ready. Not yet. But, truly, thank you.”
She stood up, stretched, and then said, “Okay, you. Time for you to head out. I’m sure you have practice later, right?”
“Kicking me out, Williams?” Zee’s eyes were sparkling with good humor again, and Liz grinned at him in return.
“Yup. Beat it, Zimmerman.” Zee laughed, and they exchanged a hug as he left the apartment.
Chapter Ten
Chris had a weekly call-in segment on the local morning sports radio show. The hosts were a group of three guys who had grown up together in the suburbs of DC. They were irreverent and funny, knowledgeable about sports, and admittedly ignorant about most of the other things they talked about but talked about them anyway. They had been on the radio for well over a decade, and their interactions with each other were part of what made the show wildly popular. Most of the time the show just sounded like exactly what it was—a couple of old friends shooting the shit, giving each other a hard time, and arguing about whatever topic happened to come up.
For every local sports team the station had at least one player and one coach—or general manager or other front office person—call in weekly during the season. Chris was a natural for this sort of thing; he was generally comfortable handling press conferences and media interviews, kept his cool under pressure answering the hard questions when the team wasn’t playing particularly well, and as a bonus, he was normally able to watch his language when he was off the ice. Not all the guys were quite as good at that, especially the younger players.
The hosts were easy enough to talk to, and Chris normally enjoyed interacting with them for the twenty or so minutes he was on the air during his call-in each week. One of the three hosts was a life-long Guardians fan, which made it even better.
Questions each week could be about serious team considerations—line changes, how they’re handling the pressure of having players out with injuries—or they could be asking him which player listens to the most obnoxious music in the locker room or who is most likely to be looking for junk food. Or which player gets the most local female action on road trips. It took a bit of fine-line-treading to know how much information to share to be interesting and fun without compromising the privacy of his teammates, and Chris was adept at this type of interaction.
This particular week, after a few minutes of discussing their upcoming road trip, one of the hosts chimed in with, “So, I heard an interesting nugget about our friend, Chris.”
The other guys jumped on this. “Really?”
“Tell us more.”
On the show, one of the hosts, JD, was known for asking questions about two things: money and women. How much money do folks make, and how hot are the women in their lives?
&nbs
p; “A little bird told me that Chris has a new woman in his life.”
Chris was speechless. Even after having dodged all kinds of personal questions from these guys for most of the last season, this one caught him completely unprepared.
“Really?” was the best he came up with to keep the interview going.
“That’s not a no! Is my source right?”
Momentarily flustered, Chris replied, “I’m wondering exactly what that bird told you.”
The guys were practically giddy. “Ohhhhh, he’s not saying no!”
“He’s not denying it!”
“Do you have a woman?”
JD added, “My little bird mentioned that she is a serious hottie.”
Chris paused to collect himself while the guys chortled and then finally said, “You appear to know a very well-informed bird.”
The cheering and clapping was ridiculous, and Chris found himself grinning and shaking his head.
“Tell us more! Who is she? Where did you meet?”
“Is she really hot?”
“My man is gettin’ some buns!”
When the noise died down a little, Chris laughed a bit and simply said, “When I want to share more, I will be sure to let you know.”
After a bit more of the requisite poking and teasing, the hosts thankfully let him off the hook for the week, and he ended the call. Sitting back in his chair, he sighed, realizing that this would now be a recurring theme. They were nice guys, but they worked in radio, and this sort of thing was good for their show. This was going to be an interesting balancing act.
He wondered briefly who had said something to them—Zee, maybe? Maybe, but Chris didn’t think that he would go out of his way to do that. Most likely someone who was a fan of the team saw him out on a date with Paige at some point. She was a gorgeous woman; some guy might just have been looking at her and then been surprised to realize he recognized Chris.