Best Played (Salt Lake Pumas)

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Best Played (Salt Lake Pumas) Page 9

by Camellia Tate


  It wasn’t even too bad.

  When I said as much, Roxi laughed. “Hey, now,” I pouted dramatically. “You have to be supportive!” Which, of course, she really was already.

  Primly, Roxi pressed her lips together for a moment, as if she were stopping all the unsupportive words from slipping out. But it didn’t last for long. I wasn’t really surprised. In the time we’d known each other, I’d noticed that Roxi tended to say what she meant.

  At least, when she wasn’t pretending to her family that she had a boyfriend.

  “I can’t be supportive and think it's funny that you find riding a horse more frightening than six-foot hockey guys coming at you and pelting a puck into your face?”

  Maybe she had a point. But I understood hockey players. Hansel was still a mystery.

  “If he had a hockey stick, it might feel easier,” I muttered, but not quietly enough for Roxi not to hear. She burst out in a fit of giggles and for a moment I worried a little it might send her tumbling off Gretel. But of course, Roxi was very skilled on a horse. Unlike me, she could giggle and ride faster.

  We rode down paths that led us into the woods and further away from the vineyard. Once I got used to the rhythm, it wasn’t too bad. I couldn’t lie and say that my legs weren’t aching a bit, but Roxi assured me that was perfectly normal and just down to using my legs in ways I wasn’t used to.

  By the time we reached the other end of the woods, the sky had turned gray. “It looks like it might rain,” I commented with a frown. Maybe checking the weather predictions would’ve been a good idea since neither of us were dressed for a downpour.

  Roxi turned her face upwards to assess the merit of my suggestion - right in time for a raindrop to land on her nose. It was only one, for now, but it wouldn’t be long before we were in the middle of much worse.

  Of course, Roxi knew exactly what to do. “Come on, if we go this way, we’ll get to a barn we can hide in until it’s over,” she instructed.

  It was surprisingly easy just to fall in behind Roxi, letting her lead the way down a hill path. At the bottom, I could see a cluster of outbuildings. “It’s our neighbor’s property,” Roxi explained. “But they won’t mind.”

  As embarrassing as it was, I had to have Roxi help me off the horse. Possibly even more so than she had done getting me on it in the first place. My legs felt a bit like jelly, and I was glad for the respite when we got into the barn.

  The horses seemed happy to be out of the potential rainstorm, too, eagerly heading over for the bits of hay there. It left us with little to do other than settle down on one of the haystacks.

  “This is quite novel,” I commented. “I’ve never had to hide from a rainstorm in a barn.” Or at all, if I was honest.

  Roxi flashed me a hint of a smile. “Country life,” she told me, shrugging slightly. “I’ve hidden in barns from a lot of rainstorms, especially as a teenager.” There was a knowingness to her smirk that made me raise an eyebrow.

  Though she blushed, Roxi didn’t try to deny it. “Hey, I’m sure you did plenty of the Swedish equivalent when you wanted moments of privacy,” she accused. After a slight pause, she added, “Whatever the Swedish equivalent is.”

  “We do have barns,” I laughed. “I just grew up in the city. I suppose the closest comparison is hiding at a bus stop,” I teased. Truthfully, I probably hadn’t done even that. Running through rain to get to wherever I was going seemed more my style. But as the thunder resounded around us, I couldn’t deny that this was... kind of cozy.

  Turning to look at Roxi, I gave her a small smile. “You’re giving me all sorts of new experiences.” While my tone was teasing, it struck me that it was very true. Spending time with Roxi felt nice, doing things that perhaps didn’t challenge me but certainly offered me new sensations.

  “Now that’s a compliment,” Roxi said, smiling so hard that I could see the roundness of her cheeks. “I love having new experiences,” she added. “That’s why I like traveling so much. I wish I could do it more, but it’s hard to take the time off work.”

  That was certainly something I could sympathize with. Taking time away from training was always difficult. So far, though, this week at Roxi’s parents’ was worth it.

  “What were you like as a teenager?” Roxi asked. “Were you very dedicated to becoming an NHL star? That’s what most people seem to say, but surely there must be some bad boys in the Pumas?”

  The question made me give an unexpected, startled snort. Not that I hadn’t been dedicated to hockey, because you didn’t get to play in the NHL without that, but... Yeah.

  “I think I definitely would have qualified for that title at one time,” I told Roxi honestly. “Back when I was younger, I partied a lot. A lot a lot.” It was one of the things that had gotten me traded in the first place. Amongst some other things I’d rather not dwell on.

  Giving a small shrug, I sucked my lower lip between my teeth. “I don’t think you would have liked me much as a teenager.”

  Roxi raised one eyebrow. “That’s hard to believe,” she said, looking at me with such frankness. She shifted, turning to face me properly and bringing her knees up to press against mine.

  I was suddenly aware not just of the way she looked at me, but of the heat of her body so close to mine. “I don’t know whether you would have liked me as a teenager,” she said. “I wasn’t so different, really. But I’m not sure whether you like me now, or if you’re just… pretending.”

  Roxi’s words made me frown, because I hadn’t even considered not liking her. Sure, before this weird situation we hadn’t even known each other but…

  “I do like you,” I told Roxi, hand reaching out to brush over her knee where it pressed against mine. “Maybe you’re right, I don’t know if we would have gotten on as teenagers.” But that was definitely me rather than her. Roxi, I was sure, would have had very little patience for the kind of rebellious spirit that I was.

  My thumb stroked over her knee gently, almost absentmindedly until I looked down at it, a soft smile playing against my lips. “I’ve quite enjoyed pretending to be your boyfriend,” I commented. It was certainly true.

  Another bright smile lit Roxi’s face. It almost took my breath away, she was so beautiful with her hair slightly damp from the helmet, curling around her cheeks.

  Roxi’s hand covered mine, her fingers rougher than I might have expected. It was from holding the leather reins, I realized, as Roxi’s thin fingers slid between mine.

  As she leaned forward, I could smell the fresh scent of lemons over the warm, dusty smells of the barn. And then Roxi was even closer, her lips hot against mine, one slim hand sliding into my hair.

  It was, perhaps, the most expected of kisses.

  Still, it absolutely didn’t mean that I didn’t kiss back. My free hand instinctively reached out to press against Roxi’s back, drawing her in closer against my body. Her lips parted and I took it as an opportunity to lick my way inside her mouth. Our tongues met, the kiss quickly going from light to very heated.

  The rain was battering the barn around us, droplets echoing off the wooden walls. And yet, I couldn’t hear anything but the beat of my own heart. The sound of Roxi giving a soft moan cut through all of that. My body instantly heated in response.

  When we pulled apart, it was only to catch our breath. Her lips were so red they almost matched the color of her hair. There were so many things flying through my head.

  We couldn’t do this, could we? Roxi didn’t want a boyfriend. She’d made that clear, especially considering that I was here, pretending so her family wouldn’t ask her why she was single. Because she liked being single.

  Yet it was easy to push all of that to one side in favor of kissing her again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Roxi

  Kissing Olle Sandström was even better than I’d dreamed it would be. He pulled me against the solid wall of his chest, making me feel tiny and precious. It was easy to believe that it was all real, that Olle rea
lly cared about me.

  Our lips stayed locked for what felt like hours, the rain wrapping us in a private world of our own. But it couldn’t last forever.

  My head was so dizzy with the feelings sweeping through me that I couldn’t even tell which of us pulled away first. What I did know was that Olle’s smile at me was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen.

  I had to help him back onto his horse, my hands lingering on the strong line of his thigh as Hansel shifted from hoof to hoof.

  We didn’t talk about what had happened on our ride back. We were focused on guiding the horses through the muddy woods. And it barely seemed as if we needed to speak. We liked each other, that was all that mattered for now. We could talk about it when we were safely back in Salt Lake, with all the pretense behind us.

  We arrived at home with our clothes flecked with dirt, and my hair a sweaty mess from my helmet. We took turns in the shower, hustling into our fancy clothes for the rehearsal dinner.

  If Steph gave me a knowing look as we rushed into the restaurant a heartbeat after the rest of the family, I only grinned back. Now that Olle had really kissed me, it didn’t make my stomach church with guilt to let Steph believe we’d had a quickie in the rainstorm. I was sure she and her boyfriend had done worse!

  Once the starters were on the table, conversation broke down into smaller groups. Steph, on Olle’s other side, leaned forward to watch Olle with bright eyes.

  “So, have you seen a lot of Europe?” she asked. “You must have gone on vacations to some amazing places!”

  “I’ve traveled a bit around Europe, yes,” Olle nodded. “Mostly as a kid, a bit as a teenager. As an adult, I’ve been more interested in places outside of Europe,” he explained and Steph ‘ooh’ed, making Olle laugh.

  “Like where?” she asked eagerly.

  “I went to New Zealand a few years ago, that was amazing. Being a travel writer sounds pretty cool. What sort of things do you look out for when you’re traveling? What makes for good travel writing?” Olle asked.

  It struck me just how natural this was to him, too. For all that Olle didn’t seem to try, he really was very good at interacting with my family. He was, in many ways, the sort of boyfriend I hoped to one day bring home.

  “Roxi likes adventures,” Steph answered, catching me slightly by surprise. “And those make for good reading. People want to hear what it was like to ride through the Grand Canyon or surf in Hawaii, even if they don’t plan to do it themselves.”

  Steph turned to me, grinning so wide that it made affection for my little sister turn over in my chest. “Roxi’s the one who makes me brave,” she carried on. “I always worried that she’d get a boyfriend who’d take her on exciting vacations and then she wouldn’t want to come with me anymore.”

  She pouted at Olle, like this forecasted problem was his fault. “Luckily for me, she’s hardly dated at all until you.”

  “And especially lucky for you that I am really boring,” Olle informed Steph without missing a beat. It seemed to startle Steph enough that she actually stopped talking for a moment and Olle laughed.

  He glanced at me, giving a small grin. “I promise to never take Roxi anywhere interesting, just so you can do it instead.” It was such a dumb promise that it was my turn to laugh.

  “Hey,” I objected. “Don’t I get a say in this? Maybe I want my boyfriend to take me on adventures.” Honestly, I kind of did. Riding Hansel and Gretel with Olle had been exciting, as had hiding out in a barn until the thunderstorm had passed. I wanted more of that.

  I wanted Olle to take me skating, and to have hope that maybe that would turn to one day taking me further afield. Olle had been a good travel companion on this trip. Happy anticipation danced across the inside of my ribs when I thought of us taking vacations together.

  “You’ve never wanted a boyfriend before,” Steph pointed out. “Why do you want one now?”

  It was a question I would really prefer not to have asked in front of Olle! He didn’t know me well enough for this kind of conversation - but I could hardly say that, when I was pretending that he was my boyfriend.

  So I forced myself to give a casual shrug. “It’s not like I never went on dates,” I pointed out, sounding defensive. “I just never liked anyone enough to bring them home before.”

  And that was true.

  Of course, what Steph didn’t know was that this wasn’t about me liking Olle enough. It was about me not wanting everyone to pity me for being single. Except, the more time I spent with Olle, the more I wished that it could be true. That this could be for real.

  “Just because you haven’t wanted something so far doesn’t mean you never want it,” Olle told Steph. “And it’s a bit rude of you to ask your sister why she’s got a boyfriend now if she never wanted one before, no?”

  The question surprised both me and Steph, but from the slight blush that colored her cheeks, I could tell that she realized that it probably hadn’t been a great question to ask. Especially not in front of my boyfriend. Fake or otherwise, I supposed.

  “I’m -”

  “It’s fine.” I cut Steph off before she could apologize. It really was fine. If Olle had actually been my boyfriend, I doubted I would even have cared what Steph asked. It was only because I was still uncertain of him that anxiety was creeping through me.

  A sip of wine seemed to clear my head somewhat. “Olle’s right. Just because I didn’t want a boyfriend before doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind.” Glancing around the table, I lifted my glass to gesture in Rachel’s direction.

  “I see how happy Rachel and Tim are. How happy you are, and mom and dad. Of course, I want that.”

  I intentionally avoided looking at Olle as I said that. He was the only person here who knew that I still hadn’t found that. Somehow, I felt like I’d dug myself into a hole with this conversation.

  Of course, I should have guessed that it’d be Olle who’d get me out of it. He seemed to have an unbelievable skill at catching me just before my thoughts could spiral into real worries.

  “I bet you get asked this all the time, but what’s your favorite place you’ve been to?” Olle asked Steph, turning the conversation around to be about her and her travels. Both things that Steph very much enjoyed talking about.

  When I shot Olle a thankful look, he reached out under the table, his hand resting over mine only briefly as he gave it a squeeze. His hand was gone before I could even try to squeeze it back, though.

  Even so, I felt as if there was a connection between us, a humming that I remained aware of all the way through dinner. Even as our attention turned to Rachel and Tim and the speech my mom made. She insisted that mother-of-the-bride was just as important as father-of-the-bride, so if Dad got to make a speech, then she did too.

  Sneaking glances at Olle out of the corner of my eye, it was hard to tell whether he felt the same way I did. I hoped so. He had kissed me in the barn, and invited me to go skating with him in Salt Lake City when we got back. That had to be promising!

  I just hoped he wasn’t taking Steph’s words too much to heart. If he thought I didn’t want a boyfriend, then I was going to have to convince him otherwise!

  I’d hoped to get Olle alone after the rehearsal dinner, but everybody seemed to be having too much fun to leave the table. Tim and my dad had drawn Olle into some long, involved conversation about sports, while Rachel and Steph and I were all sharing anticipation about the actual wedding.

  By the time we made it to our bedroom, it was late. Too late for anything to happen, no matter how much excitement fizzed inside me as Olle and I got under the covers. Before I could work out how to make a move, I was already asleep!

  When I woke, Olle had gone - probably off on his run before the events of the day. I smiled to myself as I stretched, a contented feeling curling through me that I knew Olle’s schedule so well.

  My phone trilled before I was properly up and dressed, so I reached for it in my pajamas, sitting on top of the covers with one of th
e pillows in my lap. “Lacey!” I greeted excitedly. It felt like ages since I’d spoken to her, so much had happened. And yet, it had only been a few days, really.

  “How’s everything?”

  “Oh, you know, same old, same old,” Lacey hummed. “No one’s getting married, no one’s off meeting their family with a crush they’ve had for actual years pretending to be their boyfriend...” Her description made me snort, especially when she followed it by a somewhat excited squee.

  “You’ve hardly texted me! How am I meant to know what’s been going on? Today’s the wedding, right? I’m not interrupting yet? I tried to call early so we can catch up a bit!”

  “You’re fine,” I assured, smiling to myself at how thoughtful Lacey was. Behind that, though, my mind was racing. How could I even begin to start telling Lacey everything? Especially knowing that Olle could walk in at any moment.

  So I got up, holding the phone to my ear as I navigated deeper into the house. This was something I’d done a lot as a teenager, when I hadn’t wanted mom or dad to overhear what I was planning.

  “Olle’s great,” I said, trying to ignore the way my heart seemed to melt as I thought of how he’d squeezed my hand yesterday. “I mean - he doesn’t seem phased by my family at all, and you know how overwhelming they can be.”

  Lacey hadn’t met all my family at once, but she’d heard my stories of how Peter’s ex had struggled to make herself heard over us all.

  “See! I told you Olle would be the perfect fake boyfriend!” she pointed out.

  Yet, I couldn’t help the way my stomach turned with something unpleasant at that. The perfect fake boyfriend. My heart yearned for Olle to be more than a fake boyfriend. He’d been so perfect, so kind and understanding.

  Lacey must have sensed my silence. Or maybe we’d been friends long enough for her to just know. “Roxi?” she asked. “It’s what you wanted, no? Does anyone suspect?”

  It was a relief to have something else to talk about. “No, I don’t think so,” I admitted. “We had a couple of awkward moments the first day or two, but since then everyone seems to just accept it.”

 

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