Blindsided: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Victoria Denault

  We climb the stairs to the porch. “I didn’t have to say much. She saw Hank and some other people she knew and wandered over to sit with them for a bit. Caroline was talking to the girls beside us, so I just said I saw someone from my accounting class I wanted to talk to and would be back later. As usual, no one really goes to these things for the crappy movies.”

  “Goon is a cinematic masterpiece,” I reply with a straight face and I manage to get a fleeting grin from her. I slip the key in the door, my eyes scanning the yard and street as I turn it and push the door open. No one in sight so I slip my arm around her waist and pull her inside.

  The door swings closed behind us and I turn so we’re toe-to-toe. She looks so…conflicted. It’s like throwing cold water on my libido. If she really doesn’t want to be here, I’m not going to throw myself at her. I shove my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. I’m wearing my hockey jersey. It was mandatory so everyone knew who was working the event. She reaches out and touches the shoulder of it, letting her hand trail down my arm. It feels like a goodbye, which weirds me out. I don’t like it. “What is going on with you?”

  “Do you know Alisha Knowles?” Maggie says and it’s like skating across the ice on a breakaway and losing an edge. Unexpected and unwanted wipeout.

  “Why?” I ask trying not to sound defensive.

  “You know her? She’s in Food Science with Daisy,” Maggie says and crosses her arms.

  “If she’s friends with Daisy then she’s told Daisy I know her,” I reply and flip on the light in the hall. The old seventies chandelier flickers and floods the space with yellow light. It’s harsh, but so is everything else suddenly. “Don’t ask around the question you have Maggie. Just ask.”

  “You dated her?”

  I frown but give her a sharp nod. “Yeah. And she probably slammed me to Daisy right? And Daisy couldn’t wait to tell you, and probably anyone else who would listen, because that’s what Todds do to Adlers.”

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. Do not attack my sister,” Maggie says sharply and I start up the stairs. She follows, but out of anger not passion. Not what I was hoping when this night started. “And yeah this girl didn’t have positive stories about you, but that’s not her fault. If they’re true, that’s your fault.”

  I stop on the landing to the first floor and she comes to a halt on the last stair. “Of course you don’t give me the benefit of the doubt, do you? That’s fine. For the record, Maggie, this thing between us is no strings attached. That’s how bed buddies work, so I don’t need to explain to you my dating history, and you don’t need to tell me yours.”

  I start walking down the hall toward the next staircase, which leads up to my room and at first I don’t think she’s going to follow me, but then I hear her move.

  “I don’t know how this works because you’re the first enemy I’ve had sex with,” Maggie blurts out as she stomps along beside me. “And clearly you don’t know how dating someone works if you stand them up after months of seeing each other and then pretend you don’t know who they are and humiliate them.”

  Humiliation. She doesn’t know the half of it. I stop at the foot of the staircase and turn to face her slowly, trying to figure out how much of the flaming rancid mess that was my relationship with Alisha I should explain to Maggie. I’m infuriated that this has come up and I have to think and talk about it at all. “Are we going to have sex? Because if not, why are you here? You could be watching the movie and listening to more gossip about me.”

  “Yeah. I should leave,” Maggie snaps and when I turn around she’s already making her way down the stairs.

  I find myself following her. I want to stop her, but I also don’t want to stop her. Maybe this is what needs to happen. I would stop feeling so conflicted if we stopped having sex. Right? Then I realize maybe that’s what she wants. For me to walk away and she has controlled this whole situation from the start, so I’ll be damned if I let her control this too. So as she reaches for the door handle on the front door I speak. “What happened with Alisha wasn’t my finest moment.”

  She freezes but doesn’t turn to face me. Staring straight ahead at the closed door, she sighs with disappointment. “So you did that? You just pretended you didn’t know who she was?”

  Maggie’s tone has dropped from indignant to incredulous, which is almost comical. This girl didn’t think much of me before, and now she’s baffled that she can think even less of me.

  “I did. And it was infantile and had I been in a better headspace, I probably would have handled it differently,” I say. “Do you want to hear my side of the story?”

  She nods slowly and turns to finally face me.

  “Then come upstairs.”

  Her face is a mask of hesitation and doubt and my defenses start to rise again, but I beat them down. I don’t know why…it’s just sex. If she wants to walk out the door now then I can always just have sex with someone else. I’m no Chris Hemsworth, but I’ve never had a problem attracting women. Why does my gut—and my heart—want me to talk through this so badly?

  “Did you watch our games last season?”

  “I went to a couple games,” she says, confused.

  “Did you know I had a concussion? Kept me off the ice for twelve days?” I ask and she slowly nods.

  “Yeah, I heard about it,” Maggie replies. “Why are you changing the subject?”

  “I’m not,” I snap and then sigh. “I had been seeing Alisha for about a month when it happened. We weren’t overly serious, but we weren’t just bed buddies. It was something. I thought. She made it seem like it was too, but I had a lot going on when I was recovering. The barn caught fire. I had really bad headaches, double vision, and vertigo would come and go. They kept sending me for MRIs and wouldn’t let me on the ice. I had trouble sleeping, and all I wanted was to be on the damn ice again, feeling normal.”

  “Makes sense,” Maggie says without hesitation.

  “I thought so too.” I pause. “But Alisha took it personally. She said I was no fun anymore and kept pouting when I wouldn’t go to parties or take her out.”

  “She told you that?”

  “No.” I shake my head. I really hate talking about it. “Hank told me that was what she said when she tried to get him to fool around with her.”

  I watch Maggie’s mouth drop open in a soundless gasp. “She tried to sleep with Hank?”

  “Yeah. She ran into him at a party when I was home with one of my concussion headaches,” I explain.

  “So you stood her up?”

  “No. I stopped talking to her after he told me. I needed time to think,” I say and lean against the railing staring down at her. “I knew I was going to break up with her, but I was trying to gather in my anger and humiliation so I could do it like an adult. She made the reservation at the restaurant, and I decided I would go and talk to her afterward. But I was dreading it, and confided in a teammate. The guy you called hot earlier tonight, Mike Danvers. And then he got this sick look on his face and told me she hit on him too…and he slept with her, because she said we’d broken up already. That’s when I said fuck being an adult, stood her up and just decided to act like I’d never met her.”

  Maggie stares up at me through her thick lashes, her expression swirling with emotions as she tries to process everything I just said. I push off the railing and stand straight, shoulders back, owning my behavior and coming to terms with it at the same time. “Not my finest moment. But I did it and I can’t change it. So anyway, I’ll walk you back to the movie now.”

  I make my way down the rest of the stairs and as I reach for the front door, her phone rings from the back pocket of her jeans. She pulls it out and, after glancing at the screen, she puts it to her ear. “Hey Daisy. Yeah, no I’m fine. I ran into some friends from my business class and we went to get food. I just wasn’t into Goon. I’ll see you at home later.”

  She hangs up. She takes a small step toward me and tips her head up so our eyes lock. She looks gorgeous tonigh
t, her hair loose and wavy like I like it. The sweater, the color of a thunder cloud, makes the pink that’s always tinting her cheeks more pronounced. “Now you can’t take me back to the movie.”

  “Okay… Do you want me to walk you home?” I ask, but she shakes her head.

  “I owe you an apology, Tater Tot,” Maggie replies with a small, guilty smile.

  “For the small penis lie?” I ask and flash her a smirk.

  She lets out a breathy laugh but it dies quickly and she bites her bottom lip like she’s trying to figure out what she wants to tell me but can’t. Finally she says, “I don’t know if hearing your side of the story makes me feel better or worse. I was having a very hard time hating you and screwing you at the same time. If you’d just ghosted that girl for no reason, I felt like I couldn’t sleep with you anymore.”

  “Because I would be a bad person,” I say.

  She nods and sighs lightly. “But the problem is I’m supposed to be able to hate you and sleep with you. That’s been the plan since the beginning. So if I can’t do both…”

  “So you should probably stop doing one or the other,” I say, but inside I feel crushing disappointment.

  “You’re right.” Maggie nods and a chunk of her copper hair falls forward, clinging to her cheek.

  I reach up and brush her hair back slowly, letting my fingers skim her cheek, because I think this might be the last time I get to do that. “So, I’ll walk you home?”

  She blinks, takes a deep breath. “Eventually.”

  And then she slides her arms around my neck and kisses me, her tongue pushing past my lips with passion and eagerness that makes me want to sigh with relief. I grab her around the waist and roughly pull her against me. When she breaks the kiss she moves her lips to my ear. “Take me upstairs.”

  “So you’re picking screwing over hating?”

  “I am,” she replies.

  I grab her hand in mine and lead her up the stairs.

  “Did you lose a bet?” Maggie says as soon as we walk into my room. “This room is the size of a postage stamp.”

  “Basically, yeah,” I say and walk over to my desk and turn on the string of white LED lights I have coiled around the window frame. It’s not exactly romantic, but it’s better than the night table light which is a bulb with no shade. “This coming from a girl who lives in a pig pen.”

  “Not my room and you know it,” she responds defensively.

  “But I did notice a bunch of flower pots and boxes with nothing but mud in them out on your balcony,” I say, looking for anything that might counter the hobbit hole I live in. “For a farmer you sure can’t grow flowers.”

  “That’s your fault. I had my uncle go and raid my beautiful and lush container garden when you had the dunk tank at the market, so we could give away flowers with each purchase as an incentive,” she tells me and looks positively bereft for a second. I can’t believe she did that and I feel guilty until she adds, “Now every time I stare out at those empty containers I curse your family name.”

  “Great.” I roll my eyes. “Because the Adlers need more bad luck.”

  “You can’t even stand up in here unless you’re standing right in the middle of the room.” Maggie turns the conversation back to my bedroom as she tries to walk around without bending her head down and fails.

  “It’s cozy to say the least, but it’s got everything we need.”

  I shift my gaze to the queen size mattress on a frame I made from old wood pallets, and wiggle my eyebrows when I look at her again. She laughs and tries to cover her blush with her hands but I gently pull them away and pull her to me. I kiss the side of her neck and feel her melt against me. Then I walk her backward until she hits the mattress with her calves. She drops back onto it, and I climb on top of her without waiting for an invitation. She doesn’t seem to mind. She snakes her hands into my hair and pulls my mouth to hers.

  We spend the next fifteen minutes making out and taking turns removing each other’s clothing until I’m in only my boxer briefs and she’s in just her jeans and underwear. And even though this is our third time together—in relatively quick succession—I’m amazed that my drive hasn’t slowed. There’s still this overpowering, urgent need for her that I had in the barn. After we’ve explored with fingers and mouths and tongues until the brink of bliss—repeatedly, but neither of us letting the other reach the final buzzer—I pull back from her. It’s been twenty minutes of competitive foreplay and I have the endurance for more despite the fact my cock is ready to kill me, but the guys will be showing up as soon as the movie is over, and I don’t want her to get caught here. So I pull my mouth from her.

  I look down at her in the dim light. She looks like a freaking angel, pale and pink in all the right places as she’s laid out naked on my bed. She doesn’t notice me admiring her because she’s busy admiring me as I reach, naked, for the condoms in the night table drawer. She watches, holding her breath, as I carefully roll the condom on. She sits up snaking a hand around my neck and bringing her lips to my collarbone. “Can I ride you?”

  “You can do whatever you want to me,” I reply in a voice dripping with lust.

  Thirty seconds later my perfect, flushed little firecracker is sliding up and down on my cock, back arched so her perfect breasts are pressed into my palms and her left hand is snaking down her belly to her clit. Pleasure wants my eyes to roll back in my head and my lids to close, but my brain is fighting the urge because I don’t want to miss a second of Maggie touching herself while she rides me.

  “You’re horrible for my stamina,” I say through gulping breathes. “You make me want to go off too soon.”

  She smiles and clenches around me—hard. I groan so loud the neighbors might file a noise complaint. I sit up, holding myself up with one hand while I grab the back of her neck with the other and pull her into a hungry kiss. By the end of it she’s whimpering into my mouth and coming around my dick so hard I can’t help but join her.

  I fall back, taking her with me and wrap my arms around her holding her to my chest as my heart tries to figure out what a normal rhythm is again. She nuzzles against my neck and sighs contentedly. “We’re getting good at this.”

  I smirk. “True. I don’t want to stop practicing though.”

  She giggles.

  A couple minutes later I gently slide out of her and grab my shower towel off the hook on the back of my door and head to the bathroom a floor down to clean up. When I get back to my room, she’s holding the sheets around her chest with one hand as she reaches over the side of the bed with the other to grab her clothes.

  “You know you don’t have to leave right away.”

  “What if your teammates come back?”

  “We’ve got a little more time,” I say as I drop my towel onto the floor and crawl back onto the bed between Maggie and the wall and lie down. I pat the space between us. “Lie back for a second and just enjoy the moment.”

  She falls back onto the bed. I move closer to her and she rolls over and rests her head on my shoulder so I curl my arm around her. It feels great to hold her like this. Really great. I press a soft kiss to the top of her head, breathing in that citrusy warm smell of her hair. “This feels good.”

  “It does.” She takes a long slow breath in and lets it out. “I’m exhausted.”

  “So am I. I’ve had a long week so far, and it’s just going to get longer,” I murmur. “I have hockey practice tomorrow and I have to swing by the farm after class and I have a gig at my other job tomorrow night. Third one this week, which is great money-wise but sucks in every other respect.”

  “Did Alisha know about your job?” Maggie asks as she traces random designs across my bare chest with the tip of her finger.

  “I hadn’t actually started working there yet when we were together,” I explain and close my eyes, enjoying the shiver her trailing finger is creating. “I had just heard about the company and was thinking about applying. I knew though that if I did go for it, I would never
tell her.”

  Maggie is silent for a couple minutes, her finger still moving languidly. I think she might be writing something but I can’t make it out. Finally she says in a somber tone. “I’m sorry she cheated on you. Especially while you were already dealing with so much.”

  “I’m not sorry,” I reply quickly. “I guess I was at the time, but it was a blessing in disguise. She would have done it eventually, so I’m glad it happened early on before I was more…invested in the relationship.”

  “Still. Cheating sucks. My high school boyfriend cheated on me,” she confesses.

  “Austen Henley?” I say and when she nods I laugh, but I don’t mean it merrily. “Well just like Alisha, that douche did you a favor. He was not worthy of you.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Seriously. He’s destined to live in his parents’ basement for the rest of his life.”

  “He’s at Syracuse. Pre-med,” Maggie tells me.

  “He’ll end up in that basement. Mark my words,” I reply confidently. “And I don’t care if we’re fifty and you’re living six states away, I will find you and knock on your door and tell you I told you so when it happens.”

  “I’ll be right here. Well, not in the hockey house with my sworn enemy but in Vermont. On my farm, Clyde willing,” Maggie replies and pauses to look up at me with quizzical eyes before adding. “And if you get what you want, you’ll be right next door. Unless you changed your mind.”

  “About keeping the farm? No. I mean I have moments of frustration where I want to give up.” I sigh and think about the fight I had a couple days ago with my grandfather. “My grandfather got us into this mess by listening to my aunt Louise’s advice on the apple trees. And no matter how little work Louise and Raquel do, he still treats them better than my dad, Jace, or me, who are all actually working our asses off to keep the farm.”

  “Has he always been like that? With Louise and Raquel? Because that isn’t fair,” Maggie says and twists around so she’s got her back to me now. I curl up against her. Why am I so intent on cuddling this girl? I have no idea, but I am. There is no place I’d rather be right now, and it’s giving me the strength to talk about the shittiest part of my family dynamic.