Best Played (Salt Lake Pumas)

by Camellia Tate

  From the way he had to think about it, I didn’t get the impression that there was a long-standing tradition that I would be getting in the way of. “Sometimes I’ll have some of the guys over if they’re also back already. Pizza and beer - or not beer, for me.” He shrugged. “But not always, it’s not anything special.”

  Reaching across the table, his thumb rubbed my hand. “You can plan something,” he told me with a small grin. “I know you’ll enjoy the planning and I’ll enjoy whatever you’ve planned.”

  I grinned, startled that such a simple gesture could still make my whole body tingle. Olle was right, I would enjoy planning something, and I liked that he knew that about me.

  “Is there anything you miss about American when you’re not there?” I asked. And this time, I knew Olle well enough to immediately follow up with, “Apart from the Pumas, and the Salt Lake City ice rink. You’re not allowed to say either of those.”

  The laugh that he gave warmed my heart. It was so much more than just wanting him, which I did, too. There was genuine contentedness within me, knowing that I could make him laugh like that. Not just that; we were making plans for when he came back and I knew we’d keep them.

  It was impossible not to look forward to seeing Olle again and I hadn’t even left yet. We’d already agreed that we’d call and video call, we’d see each other or at least speak during the weeks Olle was going to be in Sweden, but I knew I’d miss him anyway.

  “I will miss you, too.” Olle nodded. “But maybe you can come to get me from the airport? Stay at my place when I get back for a few days? I’ll make sure to come back on a weekend so you don’t miss work.”

  I genuinely hadn’t thought Olle might say he’d miss me. I’d been so caught up in planning the right kind of date for us that it hadn’t occurred to me that the most important thing would be us being together.

  “Of course I will,” I agreed. “I won’t offer to cook, but maybe we can order from your favorite restaurant.” Olle’s favorite food was his mom’s cooking, I knew, but he’d have just come from weeks of that. It felt appropriate to offer him something different.

  “And I’ll pack a bag, so I can stay a few days,” I confirmed. “You might have to lend me another of your hockey shirts.” The one I’d packed wasn’t going to still smell like Olle by then.

  “I think that perhaps I can sacrifice a shirt or two,” he informed me, the smile once again tugging against the corners of his lips. It was hard not to reach across the table to kiss him and, well, I realized that there was no reason why I shouldn’t do that.

  Knowing that this wasn’t a goodbye, just a temporary pause, made everything feel so much easier. We would miss each other but it would make seeing each other again all the sweeter.

  An announcement came then through the speakers, calling my flight number. “Time to fly home,” Olle told me gently.

  I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. But I felt so much more secure in our relationship now than I had when Olle had left. This time, I knew that he’d come back, that we’d get to build something together if I could just be patient for a little while longer.

  “Thanks for showing me Sweden,” I said, letting Olle wheel my bag over to the check-in desk. Once there, standing a little way outside the queue, I kissed him again.

  As much as I would obviously miss him, it would be good to have a chance to settle back into my life without him. Hopefully, devoting some time to that would mean I could be more available for dates when Olle finally returned to Salt Lake City.

  “I’ll call you when I land,” I promised, giving Olle one final hug before I pulled away.

  “Good,” he nodded. “And tomorrow we can video call,” he promised. Olle knew me well enough to know that having a plan for how we’d do this would help. Yes, we’d be apart, but a plan meant that we knew where we’d be going. And I wanted to go to all the places with Olle.

  Telling him as much meant that I earned another kiss before Olle took a step back. “You need to go before I decide to keep you here forever,” he informed me with a grin.

  I laughed, and that somehow made our goodbyes so much easier. They didn’t need to be this big, somber moment. It could be something easy, because it wasn’t really going to change anything.

  Yes, we’d be apart physically for a few weeks, but we’d talk and, I had no doubt, our feelings would continue to grow.

  Maybe, by the time Olle landed in Salt Lake City, I’d know what to call the emotion that swirled through me every time I thought of him.

  If so, I could be patient and wait for that moment to come.

  As I walked away, the tears that filled my eyes didn’t stop me from smiling to myself.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Olle

  I had worried that having Roxi with me and then watching her leave, no longer having her company, would be hard. But the truth was, while I did miss her for the weeks we were apart, it wasn’t even remotely comparable to how much I’d missed her when I thought I’d lost her.

  There were regular calls and video chats. We got to see each other, even if timezones weren’t always on our side. I loved watching Roxi in the evening; she’d set her phone on the side and just go about her evening routine. Despite being across the world, it made me feel involved in a way I hadn’t expected.

  It became a habit, talking to her every day. Yet despite it, there was never a moment when we didn’t have something to talk about. She was the easiest person to converse with, always making me feel listened to. In turn, I did my best to listen to her, to understand and enjoy our conversations. Not that that was very hard.

  When the day came for me to return to the US, my body was practically buzzing with excitement. Knowing that I’d see Roxi made even the prospect of jetlag worth it. Mom, of course, laughed at me, but I knew she was pleased. Now that she’d met Roxi, she seemed to understand why my feelings for her were so strong.

  The flight felt like it took forever and, despite my best efforts to nap, by the time I landed, I was absolutely shattered. Spending hours on a plane was never pleasant but, somehow, my attempts to fight the tiredness had brought it on even more.

  Once I had my luggage, I made my way through customs. It was impossible not to let my face light up, tiredness or not, when just across the barrier, Roxi’s smile practically blinded me.

  My bag hit the floor as I scooped her up into a hug. “Fuck, I missed you,” I said, breathing her in. Video calls were great, but actually being able to hug her was so much better.

  Her loose hair tumbled around her shoulders, getting in my way as I attempted to cover the side of her face with kisses. From the way she was laughing in my arms, I doubted that she minded.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she assured me, her arms wrapping tight around my neck. Finally, I had to let her go, if only so that we could leave the airport. I was very much looking forward to an evening with Roxi in the privacy of my own house.

  Once I’d picked up my bag again, Roxi took my other hand, leading me towards her car in the parking lot.

  “How’s your mom? Did she make a big fuss of you for your last night in Sweden?”

  “She did,” I chuckled. Even though Roxi hadn’t spent a lot of time with my mom, she had gotten a pretty great sense of what she was like. Roxi seemed, in general, pretty good with people. It was a trait I hoped we shared.

  As Roxi started the car, I told her about all the delicious things my mom had made to see me off. “And,” I concluded, “Dad baked a cake. He’s decided that he wants to become an amateur baker.”

  It felt nice knowing that Roxi knew these people, knew my parents. Sure, not very well, but I fully intended for that to change.

  The corners of Roxi’s mouth twitched, like she was amused at the idea of my dad as a baker, but trying very hard not to show it.

  “I hope he didn’t bake you his first ever cake as a going away gift!” she exclaimed, the laughter bleeding into her voice. “Or if he did, that you pretended it was delicio
us.”

  “It was delicious!” I defended. “I mean, it was his first cake, but he followed a recipe. It didn’t look amazing but it tasted pretty good. I’ll show you a picture when you’re not driving.”

  There was something so domestic about this. Just telling Roxi about my family, what they got up to. It was a lot like what we’d talked about on the phone in the weeks apart. Well, some of what we had talked about.

  Glancing over at Roxi, I gave a small grin. “You look much hotter in real life,” I informed her, my tone teasing, but it also wasn’t untrue. Roxi looked really good on a video call, sure, but it had nothing on how good she looked when I could reach out and brush my hand over her bare arm.

  “Oh, you can’t show me a picture while I’m driving, but you can get me all excited about how hot you find me?” Roxi challenged. I could only see one eyebrow, but she raised it at me so exaggeratedly that I had to laugh.

  Shaking her head, Roxi kept her eyes on the road and her hands at the appropriate positions on the steering wheel. “You look hotter in real life, too,” she promised. “All those muscles. I’ve been missing how warm you kept me.”

  Despite the sleepiness I felt, that certainly perked me right up. Some of the calls we’d shared had been... ah, a bit more intimate. Things we’d like to do to each other when we saw each other again. And now we were seeing each other.

  “Like my arms?” I asked teasingly. No, Roxi was never going to live down her enjoyment of my arms. It wasn’t as if I minded. If anything, it felt pretty flattering. And I also knew there were plenty of other parts of me she also liked.

  “And your abs,” Roxi agreed, making me flex them automatically, even though there was no way she could see through my shirt. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips; it was all I could do not to kiss her right then and there.

  She must have felt similarly, because I saw her fingers tighten against the steering wheel. Fortunately, we didn’t have much further to drive before we could act on the desire that simmered between us.

  As we pulled up outside my house, Roxi turned to me, cheeks flushed pink and eyes sparkling. “So, do you want to order food?” she asked. “Because I could be convinced to skip dinner…”

  Before I could say that, yes, I wouldn’t be against that idea, my stomach rumbled, clearly having very different plans. We both chuckled and I shook my head. “I’m not going to have the energy for anything if we skip dinner,” I admitted.

  Letting us both in, I dropped my bag by the stairs. There was nothing in there that I needed immediately. And besides, with both of my arms free, I could pull Roxi in, my mouth finding hers. I ran my hands over her back, down to her sides and then back up as we kissed. Her body felt as good as, if not even better than, I remembered.

  But then, for some dramatic effect, my stomach rumbled again and Roxi laughed against my lips.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I apologized, pulling back. “I think we should order food.” The quicker we ate the quicker we could move on to the dessert.

  Just as she’d promised she would, Roxi had planned out everything. She’d not only printed off the menu for my favorite restaurant, she’d also already picked out what she wanted to eat.

  As I ordered, she took a thorough inventory of my kitchen, fetching the plates and glasses we’d need and laying them out on the table in the dining area. She’d even brought a bottle of wine and a wine glass.

  “You don’t mind if I have some, do you?” she asked. “I know your parents drank while we were there, but maybe it’s different when it’s just the two of us.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You have some wine.” It honestly didn’t bother me any more than if Roxi would be having a different sort of drink from me, which she technically was anyway. “I used to drink,” I told her as we sat down at the table, waiting for our food to arrive.

  Roxi’s glass paused midway to her mouth, like me bringing up the topic was too interesting to drink. I chuckled at that, but carried on. “I don’t enjoy the lack of control I have when I drink. When I first went onto meds, I decided to stop. It was hard, I mean, explaining to a whole hockey team that you are teetotal was... challenging,” I snorted.

  But, like the family they were, they’d come around to the idea. And yes, some of the younger guys didn’t know why I didn’t drink, but in general, they weren’t too pushy about it.

  “It’s hard for me to imagine,” Roxi admitted. “I mean, alcohol has never been something that my family’s treated as off-limits, if that makes sense.” I knew a lot of Americans were more strict about letting underage people drink than was common in Europe.

  But, having met Roxi’s family, and seen how much they loved wine for the complexities of its taste and the way it was grown, it made sense to me that they wouldn’t have kept her away from it.

  “I can’t imagine never having a glass of wine with a meal.” She gave a small shrug. “But you probably can’t imagine wanting to spend your Saturday morning mucking out a horse stall,” she teased.

  “For one is like the other?” I teased, before shaking my head. “But no, you’re right. To be fair, I also can’t imagine wanting a glass of wine with a meal, my drinking experience was a lot more... shots.” That made Roxi look equally scandalized and amused.

  It felt nice to know that she didn’t mind. At first, I had worried a little. Her family owned a vineyard, after all, it seemed almost ridiculous that she’d date someone who didn’t drink any alcohol. Yet both she and her family had been pretty great about it.

  After a moment’s pause, I gave Roxi a grin. “I’d come muck out a horse stall with you if you wanted.”

  Roxi’s eyes took on an almost dreamy expression, as if she were picturing exactly how that would look. “You’d be very good at it,” she informed me. “Arms are very important in all kinds of horse-related activities. Maybe that’s why I like them so much.”

  But she shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t expect you to take up all my hobbies. Wouldn’t that be very boring, if we only did the same things as each other? I’d much rather come home and tell you all about the horse I was mucking out, and then let you tell me all about what the team got up to at practice.”

  She gave me a small smirk. “I’m sure you’d love it if I talked about hockey all the time. But if I did that, you’d never have gotten curious about how beautiful Tennessee is!”

  Roxi had a point there. I did also have plenty of people in my life to talk hockey about, though. And very few to talk to about Tennessee. “You can sometimes talk to me about hockey,” I compromised. “Especially when it’s about how good I am at it,” I added with a wink.

  Our food arrived, smelling absolutely delicious. We talked over the dinner about our favorite foods, about the different places in Salt Lake that we liked that we would take each other to.

  It was a nice homecoming. “You’ve done well with your planning,” I hummed, helping Roxi clear the plates away. “What else have you got planned?” I asked, the smallest of grins tugging at the corners of my mouth.

  From the look she gave me, it was clear she knew exactly what was on my mind.

  “I don’t plan everything,” she told me, her voice playful and sexy all at the same time. “I think some things are much better when they’re spontaneous.”

  She turned toward me, pressing her body against mine.

  “On the other hand,” she mused, “if you were to spontaneously carry me up to bed, you might find that I have on my nicest underwear.”

  It was a hard offer to resist. I felt like I’d spent forever waiting for this. It had been weeks since we’d last seen each other and I’d missed Roxi in a lot of different ways. But this was definitely one of them.

  Pulling her in closer, it took me no effort to lift her. Roxi gave a small cry but it wasn’t exactly one of surprise; she sounded a little delighted. Her legs wrapped around mine, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

  Thankfully, I didn’t need to see to know the way to my bedroom.
<
br />   Roxi’s hands fumbled for my shirt, sliding under it as far as she could reach. Her fingernails raked across my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I moaned against her lips, Roxi swallowing the sounds eagerly as I strode towards the door.

  Finally, I shouldered through it, Roxi pulling away just long enough to make sure we’d reached our destination. “Oh!” she gasped, as I dropped her down onto my mattress.

  She wriggled up, her shirt riding high to reveal a strip of tanned stomach that made my mouth water.

  So I leaned down, my mouth hot against Roxi’s skin. She gave a startled laugh, but it quickly turned into a moan as I dragged my tongue over the exposed patch of her stomach. I gave it a soft bite, too, just to hear the way her breath caught in her throat. She really was even hotter in real life.

  My hands slid up Roxi’s sides until they could hook against the waistband of her jeans. Looking up at her, I licked my lips. “Can I take these off? I’d love to see this underwear you spoke so highly of.”

  “You’d better!” she answered, hands dropping down to undo the button and the zip on my behalf. “I didn’t wear it for it not to be seen.” And so I pulled the denim down Roxi’s legs, my heart pounding at the scrap of pale pink lace.

  It wasn’t what I’d expected, but that somehow made my body react with even more intensity. I was very sure Roxi didn’t wear something like this every day - which meant she’d put it on just for me.

  “Well?” she asked, her cheeks crimson as she looked down at where I was staring hungrily. “Do you not like it?”

  Roxi looked absolutely stunning, even now, before I’ve gotten her top off, too. Her legs were pale against my bedsheets, the pink lace standing out against both. My mouth seemed to run dry and my heart pounded harder.

  “I definitely like it,” I promised before leaning down to press a kiss against the bit of lace that covered Roxi’s side. Glancing up at her, my smile widened. “I’d love to see the matching bra, too,” I told her truthfully, my hands sliding up Roxi’s sides and heading under the top she was wearing.