“Stop,” I murmur, closing my eyes and leaning back into my pillow. Maddie begins to kiss along my jaw, choosing to partly ignore me. When her fingers begin to dance up my torso, I struggle to remember why I wanted her to stop in the first place. “Damn it, Maddie! Stop,” I say more forcefully.
That catches her attention. She sits up and stares at me, waiting for me to explain. All I want to do is bury myself inside her, but that can't happen. Not now, not ever. I'm taking too long to say something, though, because she leans forward to rest her lips over mine. She's not kissing me, but she knows that when I go to talk, I'm going to have no choice but to feel that soft mouth.
“You're Dave's sister,” I quietly mumble the most pathetic excuse.
That's all it takes for her eyes to harden and for her to move off of me. Maddie stands, grabs her phone from the nightstand before walking over to the door, and slips on her shoes. “I can't believe that's all you can think about! After all this time, you still don't care enough. I don't know why I thought things would have changed. I don't know how I could be stupid enough to put myself back in this position. You said you would change it if you could, but I guess that was only a line to feed me, huh? You know what? You won't have to worry about me being around anymore.”
“Wait,” I protest as she starts to walk out the door, wanting to take the blame. It's my fault after all.
She glances at me over her shoulder. “Bye, Winston.” And then she practically runs out of my room.
Damn it. I swing my legs off the bed and run after her. “Maddie! Wait,” I call out.
She looks over her shoulder at me from the front door and groans. “Don't make this any more embarrassing than it is already, Winston. I won't bother you again, I promise.” She goes to leave, but I reach for her elbow to stop her.
“You don't have to do that. If you ever need anything, you can still call me, okay?” That has to be the lamest thing to ever leave my mouth. It's not what I want to say, but it's all I can force out.
“Yeah, okay,” she says.
I have a feeling that I won't see her for a long time. Before she can go any further, I kiss her forehead and release her elbow. Her lips are far too tempting, but I needed to kiss her, even on her forehead, to let her know that I care about upsetting her. Maddie quickly walks out the door, leaving me staring after her. What the fuck just happened? And why the hell do I want to bring her ass back here and make things better? Why did such a simple, innocent kiss feel like an apology and a goodbye? Sighing, I turn around, intent on going to my room when I hear Neil laugh.
“What the fuck was that?”
I flip him the bird before returning to my room. I'm horny and frustrated, which is not a good combination. After a cold shower, I decide that what I need is to get laid. Surely being sex-deprived is the cause of all this shit with Maddie. My shower ends up being pointless because I decide to go to the gym to workout before practice. Dave has texted me a few times, asking what happened after Maddie disconnected the call. When I finally reply in-between exercises, I tell him I walked her to her dorm. That's all.
“Winston?” a female voice says.
I lift my head with a smile in hopes that this goes how I want. “Hey, Paula. How have you been?” I ask my ex-girlfriend.
“Good. You? You seem to be playing well. You certainly look good.”
Grinning, I nod. “Yeah, you too. Are you seeing anyone?”
She shakes her head, and my smile grows. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Reaching for her hips, I tug her closer to me. I slip my thumbs underneath her tank top. Before I can speak, she shakes her head. “Winston, no. No, no, no, no.”
“Oh, c'mon.” I pull her into my lap and she comes easily. As I begin kissing her neck, she wraps her arms loosely around mine. “Just once, right now.”
“You're a dick,” she breathes, and I know I've hooked her. Paula can't resist a kiss to her neck. “Why do you want this so badly anyway? We both know you're choosing me only because I'm right here and I won't come crawling after you when we're done.”
Maddie flashes in my mind, but I shove her back out. “Yes or no?” I ask, ignoring her question.
“Answer me and it's a yes. You aren't the only one wanting something.”
We stand. I take her hand and begin leading her to a private bathroom one floor up. “I need to get laid, Paula. I'm sick of being so damn frustrated.”
“Who is frustrating you?” She asks as I pull her into the room, locking the door behind her.
I don't even answer. Instead, I tug our shorts off and within seconds, I'm inside her. It's quick, but I feel so much better once we're done. As we redress, I mumble a thanks.
Paula laughs. “Don't make this a habit, Winston. Might as well go after the girl.”
I groan as I open the door, just as Maddie walks by. Her eyes widen with surprise, but she gives us a tight smile and keeps on walking. What in the hell? Is she going to show up everywhere now?
“That her?” Paula whispers.
“Go to hell.”
Her laughter follows me as I go back downstairs to finish my workout. It doesn't matter that Maddie saw us or could figure out what we were doing in the bathroom together. I can do whatever I damn well please.
“THAT WAS A shitty shot, Neil,” I taunt. He’s been trying to score on me for the past ten minutes, and he hasn’t yet.
“Shut the fuck up.” He nods to Bo and a couple of others before they all come at me at once.
There’s no way I can block them all and they laugh as I scramble in an attempt to do so. Practice ended thirty minutes ago, but a couple of us stayed back to hang out for some relaxed fun.
“Those were some shitty saves, Grant,” Neil mocks as he laughs.
I shrug. “Don’t worry. I’m leaving. You have an empty net and nothing but your bad shots to keep you from scoring.”
He glares, sending a puck my way hard and fast, but I glove it and grin.
“Bastard,” he mumbles.
Feeling satisfied, I skate off the ice, calling see-you-later’s out over my shoulder.
“Hey! Wait up. I’m coming with you,” Bo yells from behind me.
We walk to the locker room, change, and then head out to my truck. Bo is in the middle of a joke when we hear a pissed off male yell, “Grant Faison!”
We stop and turn around. I immediately recognize Patrick. He's with a guy who has to be his other brother, Jonathan. What do they want from me? It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Lucy, not that I would run into her, and I don’t know why her brothers would want to talk to me. They walk up to me, folding their arms over their chests, and I hope they don’t mean to intimidate me. I mean, Jonathan is a big football player while Patrick is still built, but smaller. That’s what it feels like they are trying to do though. It doesn’t help that they both look pissed.
“Hey, Patrick. Jonathan, I’m assuming?” I look towards the taller of the two, and it’s clear they are related. They share the same black hair, although their eyes aren’t blue like Lucy’s.
Jonathan nods curtly. “What did you say to our sister?” He’s accusing me of something, but I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Bo stands next to me awkwardly.
“Excuse me?” I question, confused.
Patrick rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed with me. What the hell is their problem? “What. Did. You. Say. To. Her?” He pronounces each word slowly like I’ve taken too many pucks to the head.
Jonathan chuckles, amused with his brother, and it pisses me off. “Saturday night. She came here and ran into you. What did you say?”
“Not much. Why the hell does it matter?”
That pisses them both off, their nostrils flaring almost simultaneously. Patrick is the one to speak though. “Because you said something to upset her, only she brushes it off. Look,” he starts, losing his aggressive stance and looking like someone who is worried, “I’m sure you’ve heard how we are with her. And it’s true. We’re overprotective wit
h very good reasons. We normally don’t confront people who upset her because she can usually handle herself. But she won’t tell us what you said, which worried us.
“That’s why we’re here. Lucy’s silence speaks loudly, and it’s rarely a good thing. She was supposed to ask you a favor. Did she?”
My anger at them fades when I can see that they, or Patrick at least, really is concerned. Which makes no fucking sense because I didn’t say anything terrible to her.
“No. She was going to, but I joked that she asked a lot of me, and she changed her mind. I offered to walk her outside, made another joke, and then she declined. She was in a hurry to leave after that, but I didn’t say anything mean to her whatsoever.”
Jonathan shakes his head, not believing me, and again, I wonder about their sibling relationship. “What was your other joke?”
I sigh, aggravated again. “I told her that she should let me walk her out because there could be a murderer outside.”
“Fuck,” Patrick curses under his breath and I’m at a loss once again. “Thanks, Grant,” he says for my cooperation. “Let’s go, Jon.”
They go to turn around, but I stop them because I’m curious. I want to know what was so wrong with what I said, but I decide to go with the next best thing. “What was her favor?”
Patrick walks backwards as he answers, “She wants to learn about hockey. She’s the main photographer for it now, and she wants to understand it. You’re the only person Luce knows that plays.”
Oh. “Tell her to see me after the game Saturday.”
Patrick nods and then they disappear around the corner.
“What the fuck was that all about?” Bo asks from next to me.
“Hell if I know.”
“Are you really going to teach her about hockey?”
We finish the walk to my car. “Yeah,” I answer simply. I kind of feel bad that I upset her, but I don’t understand why a few stupid comments upset her so much that she wouldn’t even tell her brothers. She clearly has a close relationship with them. Now I’m too curious not to find out more. Let’s just hope my curiosity doesn’t bite me in the ass.
“Is Neil working again tonight?” I ask. Bo nods. “Why did he get a job anyway? We don't have rent and his parents give him a monthly allowance. Why does he need more money?” It doesn't add up to me. Something is off. Or maybe Neil wants extra money to save for something. Who knows.
Bo shrugs. “He's got some stuff going on. That's all I'm allowed to say.”
“And this won't affect his play? Working nights?” It's not but like six hours, I think, but still. He's always catching up on sleep and homework. So far, it doesn't seem like it's affected him too much.
“No, but there are more important things than hockey, Grant.” Bo sounds irritated, so I stop asking questions. It's not really my business anyway.
God. Look at me. I’m so freaking curious about everyone’s damn lives. At least I can say that I don’t gossip. I like to listen and learn, not discuss it with the world. All curiosity is pushed aside once we arrive back at the house. This week, I'm studying like crazy for one of my classes. Somehow, I managed a B on one of my papers, so I'm trying to make sure I get an A next time.
That's pretty much how the week passes leading up to yet another intense game. I have a love/hate relationship with games like tonight. I love the energy, love having to put forth all that concentration to make sure I play my best, but afterwards? Not so much. I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally. Unfortunately, we lose, our first loss of the season. Thankfully, that means no party tonight. I'm in no mood for any of that.
I'm one of the last to leave, and Lucy is waiting outside the locker room for me. I completely forgot about her. She lifts her head at the sound of the door opening and immediately starts talking.
“I apologize for my brothers, Grant. You don’t have to teach me because they forced you into it. I can learn on my own. That’s all I wanted to say.”
She goes to turn away, but I stop her when I laugh. “Your brothers didn’t ‘force’ me to do anything.” Her brows come together. “Do you really think they could make me do something if I didn’t want to?”
Lucy looks a little embarrassed. “Well, they can be intimidating when they want to be. I shouldn’t have assumed they were, I guess.”
“Do you want to learn hockey?”
She nods. “I’ve watched a few games on TV, but it’s hard for me to follow.”
“If it’s okay with you, you can come over to the house tomorrow, and we’ll watch one there.” It’s subtle, but her eyes widen. “Starts at noon,” I add. Is she scared of me? Or scared of being alone with me? Maybe she’s just nervous about it.
“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” Lucy nods one too many times like she reassuring herself this is what she wants to do.
“Could I have your number? So I can text you the address? It’s not too far from campus.”
Lucy spits out her phone number while I enter it into my phone. “Is anyone else going to be there?”
“Do you want there to be?” My question is simply a means to find out what she needs to be comfortable, and I think she can tell. She wasn’t expecting me to ask though.
“Um, no. I was just wondering. I’ll get Patrick to take me. Thanks again, Grant.”
Lucy starts walking away, but I hurry to walk next to her. “I’m sorry,” I offer, suddenly feeling like I need to apologize for whatever I did to upset her last week. The confusion flits across her face as she glances at me before opening the door to the outside, so I add, “For what I said that upset you.”
She waves me away. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It didn’t really have anything to do with you, Grant. I’m sorry you felt sorry,” she laughs softly. For a moment, I wonder if there’s anything loud about her. She’s not loud, her laugh isn’t either. The only thing that raises its voice for attention is her beauty, and even then, that’s soft too.
“Do you want me to walk you?” As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I see Patrick walking over to us. I have a feeling that somehow, he’s going to be a pain in my ass.
“That’s why I’m here,” he answers for her. Lucy turns around at the sound of his voice, a smile was already forming. The girl loves her brothers. That much is clear. “Sorry I’m late, Luce.” He gives her a one-armed hug.
“It’s okay. Grant was keeping me company.” She turns back to me. “See you tomorrow around noon?”
“A little before noon,” I correct.
Lucy nods and then they say goodbye and are walking away. It seems like all she does is walk away from me. That’s crazy because she’s usually only leaving to go somewhere else, but the thought passes my mind anyway.
EVERY SUNDAY, NEIL and Bo head somewhere together, but I don’t know where. They don't say, and I don't ask.
There's an unspoken air around them that clearly states not to question them. Winston is off at the gym again. It seems like all he's been doing since Maddie stayed the night is working out. That leaves only me at home. The knock at the door finally comes just as I wonder if she’s going to be a no-show. That can only be one person. I open the door to find Lucy, camera around her neck, and notice Patrick giving me a hard look before he starts backing out of the driveway.
“Cutting it close, aren’t you?” I step aside so she can walk it. It’s 11:57.
“Patrick doesn’t understand the concept of time,” she mumbles as she looks around, taking in the place.
“Planning to take pictures while you’re here?” I ask, closing the door.
Lucy looks down at the camera clutched in her hands. “Just in case. Is anyone else here?”
“No. C’mon, the game is about to start.”
We go into the living room on the left and sit down on the couch, me at one end, Lucy far away at the other. The volume is low enough not to be distracting, but loud enough that we can hear it. As the game begins, I start telling her about face-offs, zones, puck possession, and penalties as they happen. A
t the end of the first, I ask Lucy how she thinks this is going.
“Ugh! Forget this! I give up. Sports are just not my thing.” Lucy is clearly frustrated that she’s not comprehending what I’m explaining.
“What do you mean, ‘sports’? You don’t understand football and baseball either?”
She cuts me a glare. “Baseball is easy. One, two, three strikes, you’re out. Nine innings, hit the ball with a bat, and make it home. Football is a little harder and this,” she waves her hand at the TV, “is just ridiculous. I don’t understand how my brothers possess so much athletic talent, but I can’t even understand the stupid games.”
“But you take pictures for the paper. How haven’t you picked up on what’s happening?”
“Can I borrow your laptop?”
It’s so out in left field that all I can manage to do is comply. I get up, go to my room, get my laptop, and come back. After I place it on the coffee table in front of us, Lucy moves to the middle of the couch to sit next to me, powers it on, and starts explaining.
“I don’t see the game like you do. Players see the rules, regulations, and what their job is while they are playing.” Lucy takes the memory card from her camera and inserts it into my computer. She pulls up all the pictures and starts searching. “I see emotions and moments. That’s why I love taking pictures. They capture seconds in time that can make all the difference without needing to look at the big picture.”
She pulls up one from the game last night. “This was right before he scored his third goal of the night. He already knew he was victorious before he even did it. You can see it in his face, the determination in his stance as he skates towards the net. This guy is desperate to stop him, still hoping there’s time before he shoots the puck forward.”
She moves to another picture of a face-off. “This guy right here is brutal during whatever they are doing.”
“Face-off,” I interrupt.
“Anyway, he almost always comes away with the puck and he’s super fast. I’ve tried to get a decent shot of right after the puck drops, that split second before it lands on the ice, but the pictures don’t come out as well as I want. I have a few ideas on what to tweak during the next game, though.”
Bracing the Blue Line Page 7