by Lily Harlem
“I know we’ve had a rough hand dealt this week, guys, but when the going gets tough the tough get going, right? And I know you can do this.” I clenched my fists and tore my gaze from Dustin. “My father’s told me how we’ve wiped the floor with these wannabes in the past and I don’t see why that can’t happen again.”
“Yeah, that’s right, damn wannabes,” Brick said with a snarl. “We’ll show ’em.”
A selection of gruff cheers and murmurs of agreement filtered around the hot locker room.
“I’m not going to tell you how to play, that’s not my job.” I glanced at Mike. “He does that, but I want you to all know I’m rooting for you, holding my breath for you, willing in here.” I touched my chest, looked back at Dustin. “In my heart for you to kick ass and get those damn goals.”
A collective cheer went up. Several players stood, towering over me. Yet again I tore my gaze from Dustin then hurried out of the way as Phoenix set his focus on getting to the ice with Brick hot on his tail. I didn’t think they’d hesitate to barge right through me.
“Well done,” Mike said with a smile as players clattered past. “A quick boost is all they need. To know you care.” He touched my arm lightly, and then headed out.
I turned. There was only Dustin left in the locker room. He was staring at me with that about-to-frown crease between his eyes again.
“Are you planning on playing, or what?” I asked, folding my arms and going for stern. It was that or hurl myself at him.
“Huh? Of course.” He stepped up to me and I had to tilt my head way back to look at his face. His skates were pushing him to well over six-and-a-half-feet tall.
“I just needed to clear something with you first,” he said.
“What’s that?” He’d shaved, his jaw was smooth, the scar on his bottom lip more noticeable. There was a time I would have just reached out and touched it, touched him. But I couldn’t do that anymore. He wasn’t mine to touch.
“The contract, the three years. When’s it going public?”
“Whenever you want it to. I’m proud that we’re getting to keep you. It’s no secret as far as I’m concerned.”
“No secret?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“You don’t like secrets, do you?” he asked.
“No, honesty is the best policy, so I was always taught.”
“I agree.”
“Speed, Jesus, get out here,” Mike shouted around the door. “Like now.”
“Yep, coming.”
Dustin didn’t move. Instead he just lowered his head. For a moment I thought he might kiss me, but then he breathed deep, shut his eyes and said, “Damn, why do you always smell so damn intoxicating it’s like a fucking drug to me?”
I opened my mouth, about to ask what the hell he meant, but he disappeared. Three huge paces and he’d left me standing there gaping and wondering what I was supposed to do about being his drug when in my heart I knew that he was mine too.
*
The puck dropped and the crowd roared. A drum was banging a frantic beat in the corner and my heart seemed to thump in time with it. I was in the skybox today and I could see that Mike was on his feet, as were the other coaches. I alternated, my shoes requiring a little sit-down time, but every skim of the puck in Dustin’s direction and I leaped up, clasped my hands and willed him to stop it.
He did.
The first period went by. Brick had scored the only point after a faceoff but had also been sent to the sin bin for two minutes. Mike appeared to want to both slap him around the head and hug him.
The Red Wings were playing hard and fast, not dirty but not quite clean either. Two players swooped in on Phoenix, cornered him into the boards and stole the puck. Mike hollered for Ramrod to back him up, but he needn’t have bothered, Ramrod had seen a break, thrown his bulk through the opposition sending two sprawling, and grabbed what he wanted. Another goal was scored much to the frantic delight of the home crowd, and the drum beat so loud I feared for my hearing.
During the remainder of the second period the puck didn’t go near Dustin because the Viper’s defense was impenetrable. He was on high alert though, guarding the mouth of the goal, his concentration never leaving the game. I couldn’t help but wonder that he was the same man who’d given up control to me so trustingly and sweetly on the island. Confessed his desires, become vulnerable and allowed me to enter not just his mind but also his body.
I thought of the threads on his wrist, of the young boy they represented and wished I could take away the pain I’d seen in Dustin’s eyes as he’d talked of the loss of a friend. I hoped he did have children of his own one day. It was clear he’d make an awesome father.
Mike leaped up and I could lip-read him shouting, “Go, go, go.”
I joined him just in time to see Phoenix score on a one-timer from the center line.
Mike was grinning broadly as he punched the air.
“Yes!” I shouted and clapped.
But I’d spoken too soon. The Red Wings had come back strong, dumping the puck on an accurate slide toward Dustin. It scooted round his left skate and the sound of it pinging off the goalpost as it angled to the back of the net made my heart sink.
“Off-fucking-sides,” Mike appeared to yell, just as the ref signaled the same.
“Thank God for that,” I murmured with a shake of my head.
Mike jabbed at his right temple and leaned over the boards.
I did my best to lip-read his next words, which looked like “Watch the damn game, Speed. Concentrate, will you!”
Dustin glanced Mike’s way and then upward at me. He firmed up his shoulders and swayed slightly from side to side as though maximizing his size, setting his attention back on the puck.
The third period began with the Vipers two goals in the lead. Tension ran hot through my veins as the minutes moved slowly. But eventually the final buzzer went with the score unchanged.
When the players finally left the ice and their adoring crowd, I couldn’t get down into the locker room quickly enough.
When I got there the atmosphere was electric, on fire. The win had been just what the Vipers needed and, after being so embroiled in their depression after the Rangers defeat, I wanted a bit of the high, some of the good stuff.
The noise was deafening, shouts and yeehas and a whole load of back slapping. Several players had their tops off and I was met with a sea of skin and rippling muscles. All had their helmets off and were sporting bad hair and flushed faces. They looked like they’d taken on the world and won.
“Hey, boss, are you happy?” Brick called over to me with a wide grin.
“Yes. Very.” I smiled back and nodded enthusiastically. “Well played.”
He pushed toward me, bent down and kissed me on the cheek, quickly and a little hard. “Helps having eye candy around.”
I laughed at the cheeky glint in his eye. “And all the hours of training and a seriously huge quantity of talent.”
“That too,” he nodded and chuckled.
Suddenly I was picked up high by two dinner-plate-sized hands around my waist. I gasped and looked down at Ramrod.
“Fucking amazing, eh?” he shouted over the din. “What do you think, boss?”
“That, yes. Fucking amazing.”
He twirled another three sixty then set me down. I staggered slightly and bumped into Phoenix, who was popping the cork on a magnum of champagne. The fizz tumbled out. Mike and Price tried to catch it but Phoenix was letting it spurt upward in a shower of bubbles. A few big drops hit my cheek and I laughed and swiped at them.
Another two players planted kisses on my face. Another cork hit the ceiling and Ramrod shouted something disrespectful about the Red Wings and received yet another big cheer. The sound went right through me, thrilling me. I was completely caught up in their achievement, their excitement. I could see why Dad had found it so addictive, so enjoyable to be part of a hockey team and to keep it alive and kicking and keep his players winnin
g and happy.
I spotted Dustin. He was on the opposite side of the locker room, peeling off his shoulder padding. His eyes were blazing as he stared straight back at me. His lips were a flat line. I wasn’t sure if he was thrilled about the win or annoyed that I was there celebrating with everyone.
My heart sank. Perhaps he didn’t want me around at all. I’d monumentally fucked up by fucking him. Running the team was never going to be the same for me as it had been for Dad. Not now I’d screwed the goaltender and made him regret breathing the same air as me. I wasn’t really welcome here. There was too much baggage already.
I felt my smile fade, the heat drain from my cheeks and a heavy weight settle in my chest.
I should go.
Dustin stood, stripped off his next layer and dropped it on the bench behind him. It landed in a crumpled heap over his pads, forgotten, and then he straightened, squared his shoulders and tilted his chin.
My traitorous body perked up at the sight of him stripped to just his pants and his leg padding. All big and dangerous, hard and angry. I knew I shouldn’t want him, but I did. The desire was a reflex, much like my feelings for him. It simply was.
He walked toward me, elbowing Ramrod and Brick out of the way, his path straight and determined. His face was grim, he didn’t blink, just narrowed his eyes as he got nearer.
Nervously, I glanced at the door, wondering if I could slip past a few players and make it out before he got to me. But thinking about escape had been a mistake—as always, he was quick.
Just before he walked through me he stopped. He was breathing fast, though I knew he was super-fit and had recovered from the game so I wasn’t sure why he was out of breath, but there was no denying I felt a little short on oxygen too.
For a moment he just stared down at me, then, “Hey there, sweet cheeks.” He’d spoken so quietly I’d lip-read the words.
“Hey,” I managed as the rest of the room faded, the noise, the people, the heat from other bodies. It was only Dustin that I could concentrate on. Just him, looming before me, taking over my world. Was he about to order me out? Tell me he didn’t want my drug anymore?
“Out there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the rink. “I kept thinking about what you’d said about secrets and not liking them.”
“You were supposed to be concentrating on the game,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other. My legs felt weak, my spine a little juddery.
“I told you before. I can multitask.” His eyes flashed.
“Okay then.” I paused. “What were you thinking?”
“I’ve decided I don’t like them either. Secrets, that is.” He lowered his head until our noses touched. “Not one fucking bit.”
“Oh…I see.” What the hell was he doing?
“Do you see, really?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll understand this then.”
His mouth hit down on mine. Not gently but firm and possessive. It was as if he was staking a claim, showing the world that he wanted me. His tongue was fast and strong, his breath washed over my cheek and he held my head in his hands, holding me firm and close. I couldn’t have gotten away if I’d wanted to.
I didn’t.
For a second I was shocked. Stunned that he’d broken our rules and let the team in on what we’d had going on. But then all sane thoughts left me and I opened up and let him kiss me into a daze. I hung on to his forearms and chased his tongue as the rest of the universe slipped from my consciousness.
“Dustin,” I managed when he came up for air. “But…?”
He grinned, a big wide smile that creased the corners of his eyes, stretched his damp lips and erased his somber expression of moments ago. “I can’t help it,” he said. “I’ve just gotta have you, be with you. You’ve got under my skin and…” He paused then lifted his head and scanned his gaze around the silent room. “I…”
I looked around too.
Everyone was staring at us. Mouths were gaping and eyes were wide. A champagne bottle was leaking its contents onto Ramrod’s hand but he hadn’t appeared to notice.
Oh shit, now Dustin had really done it.
But I didn’t care. My heart was bursting for the man holding me as though he was never going to let me go. My breath was still coming hard and fast from a kiss so passion infused I was surprised I hadn’t orgasmed in the middle of it. But what did this mean? He didn’t want secrets? He didn’t care who knew about our affair?
I could only hope that it paved the way for us being together properly, not just on a paradise island, not just in my dreams, not as a dirty liaison every now and then, but in real life as a couple. Unconventional maybe, but still, just us, Dustin and Gina.
“Fuck yeah, go for it, Speed,” Brick said, breaking the stunned silence. “You lucky bastard.”
Dustin suddenly jolted sideways. Ramrod had whacked him on the shoulder. “Great catch,” he said, throwing a wink my way.
“Didn’t see that coming, but happy for you,” Price said, shaking his head and smiling at us both.
Mike raised his glass at me and smiled. “I should have guessed,” he said. “Can’t get him out of here when you’re around.”
“Dustin,” I said, returning my attention to him and seeing the heat and desire in his eyes. “I, what does this mean?”
“I can’t walk away from you again without knowing if this could be something more than just annoying the hell out of each other,” he said.
“You do annoy the hell out of me,” I said, sliding my hands up to his shoulders. “But you have other skills that more than make up for that.”
He grinned, cupped the nape of my neck and pulled me closer still. My body pressed up against the solid padding on his legs and the heat of his bare chest seeped through my clothes to my breasts. “But,” he said quietly, “I’m not falling in love with you, sweet cheeks, or anything crazy like that.”
“I’m not falling in love with you either.” My eyes filled with tears because I knew I was, one hundred percent.
“Liar,” he said onto my lips. “You love me every bit as much as I love you.”
I nodded and he kissed me again.
“That’s it, show her who’s boss,” Brick shouted, his voice high and excited.
Several cheers went up and another cork popped.
Dustin paused and pressed his lips to my ear, sending one hand down to squeeze my ass in a highly inappropriate way for an employee. “Actually,” he whispered dragging me against his groin. “I kind of like it when you show me who’s boss.”
Epilogue
“So what’s this important thing you want to say to me?” I grinned at Dustin across the table at our favorite Italian restaurant, Ciao, and set my cutlery down.
He cleared his throat and the relaxed expression of moments ago slipped. He’d been telling me about some crackpot dream he’d had the night before about playing hockey in space. The puck had kept floating around and his stick drifting into the abyss.
“Well,” he said, also setting his knife and fork on his plate. “It’s just that…” He chewed on his bottom lip and rubbed at his smooth-shaven chin.
I laughed, unused to seeing him at a loss for words. “What? Have you robbed a bank or something and don’t know how to tell me?”
“Nah, it’s more complicated than that.”
I frowned and my smile fell too. It was even more rare for Dustin to look uncertain or anxious. It just wasn’t part of his makeup. He knew what he wanted and went for it. Things didn’t faze him or worry him the way they did me. He was much more black and white and his mantra of worrying about things he could fix and not the rest of the shit life threw his way saw him through and kept him balanced.
“It’s just…” he said, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Oh, for God’s sake, let it out,” I said with a nervous smile, taking a sip of wine but not really tasting it.
He reached over and took my free hand. “I can’t go on like this. Us.”
A weight flooded my abdomen, my legs turned leaden and I had an urge to shake my head and rid the sound of his words. Bat away their meaning.
He couldn’t go on? We couldn’t go on?
An image of myself desolate and alone flickered in front of me. I couldn’t be happy without Dustin in my life now. He’d become too important to me. Too weaved into the structure of my days and my nights, my hopes and my dreams of the future. It was Gina and Dustin, that was simply how it was and everyone accepted it. What would it be like if we were no more? It didn’t bear thinking about.
“Shit, sweet cheeks, don’t go all pale on me,” he said, squeezing my hand.
“You want to break up?” I asked quietly, trying to tug my hand away.
“Fuck, no.” He frowned and kept his grip firm. “Shit, why do I always mess this kind of thing up?”
I tipped my head. “What do you mean then, you can’t go on?”
“Like this. Not being together all the time. I mean, it’s been six months now, and you’re hanging out like a gooseberry at your dad’s house with him and Giselle and I’m on my own at my place, wishing you were there 24/7. I can’t go on like that. I want us to be together properly, not just boyfriend, girlfriend, or whatever this is, but a couple, committed, living together.”
“You want me to move in with you?” I’d spoken slowly even as a rapid stream of thoughts rushed through my head.
“It makes sense. I’m in love with you, desperately so, you’ve made me happier than I ever thought I would be again and I want, no make that need, to wake up every morning with you in my arms and go to sleep with you at my side every night.” He took my other hand so that he held them both within his big palms. “Come to my house, bring your stuff. I’ve had a key cut. You can have half the wardrobe and a shelf in the bathroom. I need you there on a permanent basis, not just when we’re hanging out.”
I stared at him as his gush of words sank into my mind. He really did want to move this up a level. Not that I was complaining. A day without him or a night apart was like a wasted block of time as far as I was concerned. I simply counted the hours until we could be together again.