by Ellis, Aven
I laugh. “You need to tell me what Matt did last night.”
Nate groans. “Let’s just say if there’s a poster for the stereotypical playing-the-field, get drunk-and-crazy athlete in a bar, it’s got Rhinelander’s face slapped on it.”
I can’t help but smile.
“What?” Nate asks.
I reach up and play with his chocolate-brown hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m glad you aren’t like that.”
Nate grins sexily at me. “That makes two of us.”
He leans in to kiss me again, but the door flies open, distracting both of us.
“Yes, Mommy, they’re kissing,” Claire yells excitedly. “Do you need me to watch for anything else?”
Amanda hurries to the foyer, appearing embarrassed. We both laugh and she pats Claire on the head.
“Remind me to not recommend you for the CIA in 14 years,” she quips. Then she glances at both of us. “So I take it things are good here?”
“Yes,” Nate says, grinning back at Amanda in a way that makes butterflies shift in my stomach.
“Well, then come inside,” Amanda says, stepping aside.
I scoop up my tote and overnight bag, and I move through the doorway with Nate following behind me.
“Auntie Kenley, Mr. Nate isn’t working in the drive-through tonight,” Claire explains, bobbing her head.
It’s all I can do not to burst out laughing. She really thinks Nate works in a drive-through at The Roast and Grind.
“I know,” I say, smiling as I put my bag and tote next to the table in the foyer. “And we’re so lucky because Mr. Nate is going to stay with us while your mommy and daddy go out to eat.”
“That’s right,” Nate says.
“We’re going to have book club!” Claire says gleefully. Then she frowns. “Mommy always has wine at her book club, but we’ll have juice boxes, I think.”
Amanda turns red, and Ryan laughs as he comes up with Bella in his arms.
“You’re right, Mand,” Ryan says affectionately. “Definitely not CIA. She’s TMZ.com all the way.”
Then he passes Bella to Nate, who doesn’t even bat an eyelash about a baby being put into his arms.
“Here you go,” Ryan says.
I didn’t think Nate could be any sexier, but there’s something about seeing him with Bella in his muscled, tattooed arm that makes me want him even more than I already do, and I didn’t think that was possible.
But oh how I want this man.
“Hey, Bella,” Nate says, smiling at her. Bella reaches for his face, touching his full lips. Nate takes her tiny hand in his and pretends to eat her fingers, which makes her squeal with laughter, and then he throws his head back and laughs with her.
“Auntie Kenley, are you listening?” Claire asks, tugging on my maxi dress.
I blink. I notice Amanda giving me a knowing grin across the room, so I avoid her gaze before I start blushing.
“What, sweetie?” I ask.
“Mr. Nate is going to read Ponies on Ice. If he does a good job, he’ll get a sticker.”
“What’s that?” Nate asks.
“My Little Pony books,” I explain.
Nate nods, and I know he has no clue what this is about. He turns his attention to Claire. “Do I get to pick my sticker?”
Claire wrinkles her nose. Obviously she didn’t consider he might want to choose a sticker for himself.
“Um, no. I’m going to give you the ones I don’t want.”
“Claire,” Amanda says, a teaching tone in her voice, “Mr. Nate is a guest, and he can pick whatever pony sticker he wants. That is being a good hostess.”
Claire sticks out her lip. Amanda gives her the eye and then Claire immediately stops.
But it’s so funny I can’t help but laugh, and so does Nate. Amanda calls us into the kitchen, tells us she’s ordered a pizza online for the kids, but there’s some takeout food from a healthy café in the fridge that we’re welcome to eat. Amanda texts me the name of the restaurant they’re going to and before long, Amanda and Ryan are gleefully headed out the door, ready for a night out alone.
And now it’s me, Nate, and the girls.
“I’m getting my book,” Claire says eagerly, running up the stairs.
“Ba, ba, ba,” Bella babbles, still putting her fingers over Nate’s mouth.
“Ba, ba, ba to you,” Nate says, grinning at her. Then he turns to me. “Do you want to hold her so I can read this life-changing piece of literature I’m about to get?”
I lift an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to get out of changing a diaper? Because that’s not going to fly with me,” I tease.
Nate flashes me a smile and hands Bella to me. I shift her onto my hip, and he leans in closer to me, sliding his hand underneath my hair and bringing my mouth toward his for a quick kiss.
“Diapers,” he murmurs against my lips, “don’t scare me.”
Jesus. I’m done.
Nate lifts his head and flashes me that beautiful smile, and I get a feeling for what our life could be if we keep walking down this same path together. He’d be a hands-on dad when he was home. Nate would change diapers and love his daughters and embrace picking out My Little Pony stickers with them.
And in the middle of the talk of diapers and books to read and pizza that is on the way, he’d still give me that sexy look. His tattooed arm would still reach out to me, his full lips would still hunger for mine, and I’d still shiver from the scent of his masculine cologne lingering on his skin.
A warm feeling floods me. I can see it with such clarity, such certainty, and I’ve never seen this future before with anyone.
Anyone but Nate, that is.
Bella reaches for my statement necklace, her chubby fingers looping around a large stone, and she tries to pull it closer.
“Na, na,” she babbles. “Na, na.”
“She’s trying to say ‘Nate,’” Nate teases.
“Obviously,” I say, smiling.
Claire races back into the room and flops on the sofa, calling for Nate to join her. I watch as Nate situates Claire on his lap and opens the book. My heart is so full at this moment I think it might burst. I see how Nate reads to her, how he interacts with Claire, how natural he is with children.
This could be our life someday, I think.
This thought doesn’t terrify me, although it should.
We’re still taking little steps. There’s a long road ahead of us, and Nate still has to be able to open his heart fully after what happened with Megan. I have to learn to trust what he says, and most of all, trust what my heart is telling me.
But I know without a doubt I want us to get there.
And now I need to see if Nate wants to get there, too.
Chapter 18
Tripping: Penalty for taking down an opposing player with stick, hand, or sticking out your leg — Nate
“So how excited are you for the game tonight?” Kylie asks, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“You have no idea how anxious I am to see Nate play,” I admit. We’re sitting outside on this beautiful September afternoon, having lunch on the patio at an Italian restaurant in Uptown.
Nate was away at training camp for a few days last week, and now the Demons are going to play their first preseason game against the Cleveland Wildcats tonight at the Premier Airlines Center.
But to see Nate in his element, to see him for the first time skate with Harrison, to see his first start as a Dallas Demon—well, there are no words to describe how thrilled I am for the game tonight.
Kylie flashes me a grin. “He’s told you that he won’t play much, being that it’s the first preseason game and all, right?”
I laugh. “Nate says he’ll barely be on the ice, but I d
on’t care. I’m dying to see him play.”
Which is true. Nate said I’d probably get bored, but I know I won’t. And there’s no way I was going to miss his first game and seeing him in that Demons jersey for the first time.
“I know the feeling,” Kylie says, pausing to take a bite of her caprese salad. “And I still get excited for the first game of the season, too. But at least we’ll be able to keep each other company in the VIP lounge.”
“What?” I ask, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The lounge the Demons have set up in the arena for wives and girlfriends. Didn’t Nate give you a credential for it?”
Suddenly an uneasy feeling washes over me. I decide I don’t want a bite of my ahi tuna and set my fork back down. “Um, Nate gave me two tickets. Arena seats.”
I see an uncomfortable expression filter across Kylie’s beautiful face. “Oh,” she says. Then she smiles brightly at me. “Well, maybe he did that so you could bring a friend.”
My stomach tightens. When Nate said he’d get me a ticket, he asked if I wanted to bring a friend.
But he never mentioned this lounge as an option.
I need to know more about this, to try and get rid of this uneasiness.
“So the wives and girlfriends have a special room?” I ask, trying to keep my voice causal.
Kylie nods. “Yes. It’s not far from the players’ dressing room,” she explains. “The game is on TV in there, and there’s food, a play area for the kids, stuff like that.”
I bite my lip. It sounds like a sorority, if you will, for the women in the lives of the Dallas Demons. Where they come together on game nights, cheer for their men, and bond over what it’s like to be dating or married to a professional hockey player.
A sorority, I think as my chest tightens, Nate doesn’t want me to join just yet.
“But for your first few games, you have to be where you can see the game live,” Kylie says reassuringly, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s so much fun to watch right on the glass . . .”
Kylie’s voice trails off in my head as I’m wrapped up in thoughts of Nate. I’m stung by this, and I know I shouldn’t be. Nate did say we were going to move slowly. And I suppose that means introducing me in all aspects of his life is going to take some time.
But what if he never does? a small voice inside me whispers.
Okay, Kenley, now you’re being stupid. I reach for my glass of water, taking a sip to try and clear my head. We’ve seen each other a lot the past few weeks, we did Connectivity video chats while he was in Fort Worth. We’re checking our schedules and making plans to be together whenever possible.
I need to trust that Nate can fully let me into his heart. He needs time. I can’t rush this. Nor do I want to. I want Nate’s feelings to be real for me, and I can’t put that on a timetable and expect him to meet deadlines. Like putting me in the VIP suite because I feel like his girlfriend.
So I clear my throat, listen to Kylie, and shove the stinging feeling aside. I know Nate. I know he wants to get to the same place. I trust him.
And right now I have to pray that trusting Nate—and what my heart thinks we can be—is the right thing to do.
“These seats are sick,” Lexi exclaims as we take Nate’s seats on the glass.
I feel a shiver of excitement shoot down my spine, and it’s not from the cold temperature inside the Premier Airlines Arena. We sit down, right on the glass, as they say in hockey, and peer out over the vacant ice.
“I can’t believe I’m going to see him play,” I say in amazement.
“You say ‘him’ like he’s a player you have a crush on from afar,” Lexi says, grinning as she sits down. “You’re seeing your boyfriend.”
I frown. Lexi doesn’t know about my conversation with Kylie earlier.
“What’s the look for?”
I turn and see Lexi’s green eyes zeroed in on my face. I swear nothing gets past her. I glance around, and we’re alone in our little area of the arena for now, as Nate said to get here early so we can see them warm-up.
“Um,” I say softly, “I found out something at lunch today. And it’s been on my mind.”
“Okay. He’s in love with Harrison, right?”
I laugh. “No.”
“We already know he’s not a womanizer.”
“Far from it.”
“Well,” Lexi says, “we’ve proven all of CiCi’s theories wrong, so what could possibly be bothering you?”
I loop a strand of hair around my finger and stare out at the ice. “There’s a special VIP lounge for wives and girlfriends of the players. That’s where they watch the game, on TV. And he didn’t even mention it to me.”
Lexi digests this for a moment before speaking. “Don’t overthink this, Kenley. I don’t think Nate is making a statement by not giving you a ticket or pass or whatever to this lounge.”
I find my anxiety loosen up a bit from Lexi’s words.
“I just . . . I know Nate wants to take this slow,” I say. “And I know that’s making a big statement, putting me in that lounge.”
“Right, and you’ve just started seeing him.”
I nod. Then I confide my deepest fear. “My gut says to not worry how Nate is labeling things. To let us grow into whatever we are meant to be. But I know my gut has been wrong before. And . . . I think I would be devastated if I was wrong this time.”
“Wrong in what way?”
“What if Nate can’t open his heart to me?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Lexi asks, confusion etched on her face.
I swallow. She doesn’t know about Megan and Patrick, and I’ll never tell anyone that story. Not even to my best friend.
“He’s cautious because he’s been hurt before,” I say honestly. “And I’m afraid he’ll never move past that.”
“Okay, serious overthinking going on up here and it’s tripping you up,” Lexi says, tapping the side of my head affectionately. “So he’s been hurt before. So have you. But that doesn’t matter now. Keep dating him. Don’t worry about labels and lounges and what things should or shouldn’t be happening. Just let it happen organically.”
I feel a weight being lifted off my heart with her words.
“I seriously love you, you know that?” I say, feeling nothing but grateful that Lexi is my best friend.
Lexi grins. “I should lean in and kiss you. It would give that guy in the next section more of a selection for the photos he’s taking of you.”
I groan. “Ugh, another cell phone shooter?”
Lexi laughs. “Yep. Be braced for a round of ‘Hot Puck Bunny at Dallas Demons’ photos to be thrown up on social media.’”
More people enter our section, and I wrinkle my brow.
“I thought you said they’re called Puck Sluts.”
Lexi shrugs. “Interchangeable terms.”
I laugh, and she does, too.
Suddenly the PA announcer comes on and introduces the Dallas Demons, and out of the tunnel they come, skating onto the ice for pre-game warm-ups. A cheer goes up, and pulsating music fills the arena.
Excitement tears through me, and I eagerly search for Nate. Then I see him, skating right behind Harrison, sexy as hell in his silver and black hockey sweater with his new number, 88, on the back.
They are flying around their half of the rink, right in front of me and Lexi, and the speed and ease at which he moves is mind-blowing. Nate takes a turn and is right in front of us, and my breath catches in my throat as he glances at me and flashes me a smile.
Oh. Dear. God.
I didn’t think he could be sexier, but this takes it to a whole new level.
“Holy shit, did you see Nate Johansson smile?” a girl cries next to me.
I glance to my
left, and a bunch of people have gathered to try and take pictures and video. Some have professional-size lenses, others are using cell phones. Which is what Lexi is doing now. She loves to video hockey and do her own edits, and she’s shooting the warm-up as well.
“He’s hot,” another girl chimes in. “We love you, Nate! Welcome to Dallas!” she screams at the glass.
Lexi bursts out laughing. “Welcome to your new world.”
I can’t help but laugh. I know it might bother some women, but I know it doesn’t mean anything. Besides, how can I blame them? Nate is gorgeous, after all.
“Harrison is even more handsome up close,” Lexi says as she continues to video. “How is that possible? And Matt Rhinelander is cute if you like blonds. So we have Harrison, Nate, and Matt on the same line. Hottest line in the league.”
Oh, definitely no doubt about that, I think, looking at Nate. He’s so huge in his gear, and now Nate’s ripping powerful shots to the net to a Justin Timberlake song, and I can’t keep my eyes off him.
I watch as he goes through his warm-up, and I notice that he and Harrison already have such a good relationship. They’re talking and laughing, and at one point Harrison pokes Nate with his stick when he’s singing along to the warm-up song.
And as I watch him, I realize that with this game Nate’s truly starting his new life here. He has a captain he admires and trusts in Harrison. And if this warm-up is any indication, they’re going to play well together on the ice.
Then there’s me.
I watch my hockey player take another shot at the net. Nate wasn’t looking for me, and I wasn’t looking for him, but we found each other anyway. The fact that he’s even willing to take steps with me after what happened to him is huge.