Delay of Game

by Tracey Richardson

  “But I want to taste you first. I want to suck you.”

  “No.” Desire blinded her. “I need you now. I can’t hold on much longer.”

  Niki danced inside her, hard and fast, exactly the way Eva needed her. She took her with a sense of furious possession, rocking her, eliciting yet more wetness and sending her to a new depth of desire she didn’t know she could reach. Niki’s mouth continued to pleasure her breasts until she could no longer hold back the tide that would momentarily annihilate her. Yes, I want to be destroyed, she thought. And I don’t ever want to come back from feeling this way.

  Her orgasm tore through her, shredding her, reminding her that it was in control at this moment, not her. She rode every last ripple for as long as she could, then pulled Niki up and kissed her long and hard and with every ounce of love that was inside her. To be sure, it was always about sex with this woman, but it was about so, so very much more.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Odd Man Rush

  From high in the stands, Niki watched Team USA and Russia battle it out. It was a one-sided battle of course, with the US potting three quick goals before the Russians even knew what hit them. Ostensibly she was there to scout the Americans, to see whether they were making subtle or overt changes to their strategies, their line combinations and so on. But she was also there because she wanted to sit in a far corner of the arena alone, to bask in the glow of her secret night with Eva. A night that hadn’t ended until they’d both dropped into a deep sleep shortly after two in the morning. They awoke around five, said a lingering goodbye that culminated in hasty shower sex, before rushing off to their respective quarters. She needed the time alone today to macerate in the tingling sensations that coursed through her body, turning her insides to hot molten lava. Eva had, as always, managed to tap into her bottomless well of desire. The fact that it had been neglected and ignored for years hadn’t at all diminished its power and depth. Last night she’d wanted, needed, Eva with every fiber of her being. Her body had needed sex with Eva like an addict needed another hit.

  Now, desire and love for Eva mashed together indistinguishably, so much so that she couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. She couldn’t be sure how much her love for Eva was lust too. But if she truly loved Eva, was in love with her, did it mean she hadn’t loved her wife enough? Because if she had, surely there wouldn’t be room in her heart for Eva this way, this much, this quickly. Had she betrayed Shannon by falling into bed with Eva last night? Or worse, had she betrayed Shannon from the start by never really abandoning her love for Eva? Had she been fair to her wife all those years, harboring feelings for Eva that she’d tried to convince herself weren’t real?

  Panic pulsed through her. What if last night was a mistake? Oh, she’d made mistakes all right, a ton of them. But was it in letting Eva go in the first place? Or was it in papering over her feelings for Eva and marrying Shannon? And now…Had she gone and made things worse? Thinking she could go back and have a do-over with Eva? Christ, she’d been married, widowed. She had a kid. She couldn’t go back and pretend her post-Eva years had never happened, that they were chalk on a chalkboard that could be conveniently erased after a night with Eva. What a mess she’d made of things.

  She wanted to bolt, but she forced herself to stay in her seat and watch the game. Eva was on the ice, striding up the wing (Alison still wasn’t letting her play center, it seemed), having to hold up at the blue line for Dani, who, though much younger, was nevertheless a step slower than Eva. Niki shook her head. Why in hell Alison wasn’t playing Eva at center, she couldn’t guess. Yes, it was mostly a meaningless game, but to stay sharp on center, Eva needed to play the position. And she needed to stay engaged in the game. Eva was a thoroughbred, a champ, and the minute you shortened her leash or didn’t let her go at full tilt, she mentally disengaged. And that was a huge mistake, not only for Eva, but most importantly for the team. You didn’t want your best player tuning out and not giving a crap.

  Niki scratched a note about it in her notebook, her coaching priorities inserting themselves. And then Shannon’s face floated in front of her mind’s eye. Shannon on her deathbed, looking beseechingly at Niki, making her promise she’d try to find love again. Tears stung her eyes now as her throat tightened. How could she have doubted her love for Shannon? She spoon-fed her in the hospital when she was too weak from the ravages of cancer to feed herself. Read lesbian novels to her, washed her hair with careful tenderness, made a playlist of all her favorite music to play on an endless loop during the hours she was alone, legally adopted her daughter. No. She’d loved Shannon, of course she’d loved Shannon, and that love wasn’t—couldn’t be—dispatched by the resurfacing of her feelings for Eva. A heart was capable of loving more than one woman. It had to be.

  The US was up five to nothing now. Eva chased the puck into the corner, zigging one way, zagging the other to shake off her Russian shadow. She was almost free of her opponent when the Russian pinned her against the boards, knee on knee. From this distance she could see the wince on Eva’s face, could feel the stab of sympathetic pain in her own knee. The Russian skated off with the puck and Eva dropped to her knees, doubled over in pain.

  Niki stood for a better view, watched Kathleen slip and slide out onto the ice to tend to Eva. Jesus, how was she ever going to make it through these final games in one piece? Niki knew how badly Eva wanted this, but maybe she should pack it in for the sake of her body. Her future. Screw it, it was only a piece of precious metal to sit in a box on the shelf of a closet one day. That’s where Niki’s own Olympic medals were right now. But she knew Eva, and she knew Eva would pack it in when she was good and ready to pack it in. She would push herself on pure adrenaline and determination, even if that’s all she had left in her tank.

  Eva hobbled off but she stayed on the bench, which was a good sign. She played sparingly the rest of the game, a handful of shifts, but at least she played, which meant her knee couldn’t be too bad. The Americans went on to thrash Russia 13-0, with only one game left—against the Finns—before the semis.

  After the game, Niki kept pulling her phone out of her pocket, itching to text or call Eva, to find out how she was, but they’d agreed for propriety’s sake that until the Games were over, they would only risk being seen together if others were present. Tomorrow was Rory and Eva’s lunch date, she’d see Eva then, but only for a few moments as she handed Rory over to her. If she were smart, she’d stay completely away from Eva, because as soon as she set eyes on her again, she’d want to kiss her, she’d want to run her fingers through that mass of dark curls, would want to press her body into Eva’s, would want to inhale the scent of her skin and her soap and her shampoo. Yeah, but nobody said I was smart.

  She ran a hand through her own hair and sighed. The gold medal game couldn’t come soon enough. Not only could she and Eva then begin to navigate their next steps, but she could finally put all the chaos and turbulence of the last few weeks behind her.

  * * *

  Eva waged an internal battle to keep her face from advertising her secret joy—and lust—as she acknowledged Niki before greeting Jenny and finally Rory. She wasn’t worried about what Jenny thought; Jenny always seemed friendly, open toward her and definitely not judgmental. But Rory was a different story. The kid was as smart as a whip, observant as a watchdog. But she was at a vulnerable age, approaching eleven, and at a vulnerable time in her life, almost four years from having lost her birth mother. The last thing Eva wanted was for Rory to think she was trying to take her birth mother’s place. And even if Rory didn’t see it that way, was she ready for Niki to have a girlfriend? She’d need to tread carefully.

  “How’s the knee?” Niki asked carefully.

  “Which one?” Eva deadpanned.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. It’s okay. Been worse.”

  “Mom, can I have ice cream for dessert?”

  “You want ice cream in the middle of winter?” Niki asked.<
br />
  “That’s the best time, because it won’t melt that way.” Rory rolled her eyes as if the answer was self-evident.

  “I’ll have her back at your hotel in a couple of hours,” Eva said.

  “Take your time,” Niki teased. “I’ll have to figure out what to do with all that peace and quiet.”

  “Mom!”

  “Only kidding, Rudolph.”

  Rory’s face flushed and her dark eyes turned to granite. “I’m too old for that stupid name. Stop calling me that.”

  “Rudolph?” Eva said. “As in the red-nosed reindeer?”

  Jenny laughed, ruffling her niece’s hair. “When she was little, her nose used to turn red whenever she got excited. We all started calling her Rory Rudolph.”

  “Well then,” Eva said, taking Rory’s arm and steering her away. “It’s always a good time to leave when family members start trotting out the embarrassing childhood stories.”

  That earned her a grateful smile, and they hurried off to the Tap & Barrel in the Olympic Village. It was a massive restaurant that overlooked the arena grounds, with a menu that featured everything from Pacific salmon to pad Thai. Rory ordered a burger. Eva couldn’t resist the pulled bacon craft beer mac ’n’ cheese with gouda.

  She took a long sip of water to quell her nervousness. The only kids she’d spent much time with were her nephews, and while Rory seemed easy to talk to, it was a strain. With her nephews all she had to do was plunk a hockey stick in their hands, and there was no need to talk for hours. But Rory was bright. And curious about everything.

  “Are you and my mom sleeping together?”

  The water Eva had just sucked in from the straw shot straight up the back of her throat and into her nose. She reached for the cloth napkin beside her plate, grateful for the diversion of choking, because it let her stall for time.

  “Sorry,” she rasped, taking another sip. “Wrong tube.”

  “You are, aren’t you?”

  “What’s that, kiddo?”

  “Sleeping with my mom.”

  Okay, so playing dumb wasn’t going to work. “I think maybe you should ask your mom that question.” Yeah, that was it. Mothers were the ones who were supposed to answer the difficult questions, not friends of moms. And certainly not lovers.

  “But I’m asking you.” Her big dark eyes were probing, but something in them said her curiosity was academic rather than judgmental.

  “All right,” Eva said, deciding to be honest. It wasn’t as if Rory was a little kid. She was in grade, what, five? Six? “Yes. I am. I mean, we are.” Or were. She didn’t exactly know how to describe things.

  Rory looked at her for a long moment, during which Eva held her breath. Then the girl smiled so wide, it nearly split her face. “Okay. Good. I’m glad you are.”

  “You are?”

  Rory nodded. “Yup. I thought Mom would never get off her butt and sleep with you.”

  “Okay, wait. Just to be clear. Um, you’ve had your sex talk, right?” God, did they really have to talk about this?

  “Yes. I know everything that happens when two people sleep together.”

  “Well, I hope not everything.” Eva felt the heat in her face. “Jeez. Why do kids always have to be in such a hurry to grow up?” she mumbled around another sip of water.

  “Mom really likes you. I mean, like, really likes you.”

  “She does, does she? And what about you?”

  Her heart raced as she realized how important Rory’s answer was to her. But it would have to wait because it was at that moment the server delivered their food. Rory tucked into her burger as though she hadn’t eaten in days, Eva figuring the question was long forgotten. Which was fine; she wouldn’t press.

  “I like you a lot,” Rory finally said between bites. “You’re cool.”

  Eva laughed her relief. “Well then, I’m super glad to hear it. What could be better than being cool?”

  “Are you and my mom going to get married?”

  Married? Panic swept aside Eva’s relief, taking with it her appetite. “It’s way too early for that. It’s a big step. Like, a huge step, and there are a lot of things to consider. A lot of grownup things to consider.”

  “But you love each other, right?”

  “Yes, we do. Or at least, I know I love your mom. But it’s not that simple, kiddo. Your mom has a lot to think about because she has some awfully big responsibilities. And what about you? How would you feel about me being with your mom? About me being in your life like that?”

  Rory looked skyward while she chewed, deep in thought. “I get lonely sometimes. And so does my mom. She’s so sad a lot, and that makes me sad. When you’re around, we aren’t sad anymore.”

  Eva marveled at the simplicity with which children’s minds worked. They knew how to get to the point, maybe because their minds weren’t yet clogged up with worry and complications and insecurities. She wished Rory could stay this way forever.

  “Well, thank you for saying that, Rory. I get sad and lonely sometimes too. It’s always better when you’re with people you care for, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so.”

  The girl’s eyes dropped to her lap, her mouth firming into a hard line.

  “What’s wrong, Ror?”

  A shrug. She hadn’t realized how quickly kids’ moods could change, like a weather vane hit by a strong, sudden gust of wind.

  “Margot.”

  “Margot? Who’s that?” With the subject change, Eva’s appetite returned with a vengeance and she dug into her mac and cheese, which contained huge chunks of smoked bacon and globs of melted gouda that added to its smoky flavor.

  “My girlfriend.”

  Eva smiled, liking, no, loving, this kid more and more every minute. “You have a girlfriend? That’s awesome.”

  “Except we got into a fight right before I left. She’s mad at me for telling all our friends that we kissed. She thinks people won’t like us anymore if they know we’re going out.”

  Ah yes, the homophobic crap that accompanies coming out. Apparently not a lot had changed over the years since she’d come out in high school, earning a few bullying sessions from some of the school’s jocks and from a few of the girls too. She’d hoped things were different now, and they probably were, overall, but it didn’t mean kids weren’t still getting hurt and rejected and humiliated.

  “It sounds to me like she’s not as brave as you or at least not yet. Maybe she needs a bit more time, because sometimes people need to accept something as big as this at their own pace. But if she doesn’t come around, then maybe she’s not the girl for you. Right?”

  It seemed an eternity before Rory looked up at her and nodded. “Mom told me I should break up with her if she’s going to be embarrassed about being with me. But I like your answer better.”

  “Well, I don’t want to go against your mom. But remember this, Ror: nobody should ever be embarrassed to be with you. Got that? You’re perfect the way you are, and if other people don’t see that, then it’s their loss.”

  Rory beamed at her with newfound confidence. “See, I knew you were cool.”

  Eva laughed. She had a lot to learn about kids, but so far, it wasn’t half bad.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tripping

  The Swedes were giving Canada all it could handle in the first period. Niki could see fear and disquiet in Lynn’s eyes, could hear the tension in the biting off of her words as she yelled at her charges to skate harder and faster, to start scoring some damned goals. She was coming unglued behind the bench, and already Niki could see the players absorbing Lynn’s negative energy. They were getting sloppy, making bad decisions, gripping their sticks too tight. Each player was trying to do too much in a game in which they could only be successful if they played as a team.

  Niki tapped her captain’s shoulder, leaned down and quietly instructed her to relax and to play the game the way she knew how. Then she told the next player, and the one after that and the one after that,
to take a deep breath, to play the game they’d been playing since they were five, six years old. “It’s hockey. You skate, you pass the puck, you shoot it, you stop the other team from scoring. It’s the same game whether you’re playing at the peewee level or the Olympics. Okay?”

  She was careful never to undermine or contradict Lynn in front of others. Not because she didn’t want to, but because it was the kind of thing that fractured a team, shot morale all to hell. But when the second period began and Lynn unceremoniously trashed the strategies they’d worked on for weeks, Niki felt like losing it. In all three zones, Lynn now wanted the team doing things differently. Their breakouts, their neutral zone puck carrying, their offensive zone puck possession game. Her big idea was for the defensemen to overcommit and pinch almost every time. Yes, it gave them more scoring opportunities, but it was leaving them vulnerable to odd-man rushes and left the goalie hanging out to dry. Lynn also wanted the forwards to skate the puck into the offensive end and shoot before a teammate had time to screen the goalie or to get into place for a rebound. It contravened everything Niki had pounded into the team for months. It also contravened common hockey sense. And now, to change everything on the fly, one game away from the semifinals, was hockey suicide.

  With considerable effort, she kept her mouth shut. Even when the players looked at her beseechingly, she gave them a simple thumbs-up or a brief word of encouragement. But she seethed inside, even as her team began to run away with the score. Canada won 13-1, but the score could have been much closer. More concerning was that the players were at loose ends—playing as individuals and scrambling in all three zones. After the final buzzer, Niki stormed off and marched into the coaches’ office.

  “What was that all about?” she said when Lynn joined her.

  “All what? Winning the game?”

  “No, not winning the game. The chaotic play out there. You’ve got those girls not knowing which end is up. Now they’re going to be second-guessing themselves at every turn, playing as individuals. They’ll stop relying on each other and they’ll stop relying on us for guidance.”