by Mignon Mykel
She grinned at me shyly through the mirror as she was putting on a strapless bra. “Guess we have no choice. I still have to curl my hair, put on my makeup and—“
“You look beautiful.” And she did, standing there in lace panties and her strapless bra. She’d removed the clip from her hair and it fell gently over her shoulders.
“Well I’m not going like this,” she said pointing herself.
“Damn straight you’re not.” Shit, that was all for me. I reached for my shaver and was about to turn it on when she spoke again.
“If you’re done getting ready…”
I held up the shaver. “Still gotta shave.”
“I have to put on my face, do my hair, put on my dress…”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “Okay. What do you need, Ryles?”
“Could you just please grab my dress?” Her face was contorted in question, as if she’d been afraid to ask.
At the simple favor, I laughed. I thought for sure she was going to ask for a tampon or something. “Yeah, where’s it at?”
“Behind the bedroom door.” She turned her curling iron on then dug through her makeup bag. “It’s hanging.”
I nodded and slipped behind her, brushing my hand over her lower back as I did. I found the chocolate colored dress and brought it back into the bathroom, hanging it on her robe hook. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder then went back to my side, turning my shaver on.
I loved how real this felt, how normal.
This domestic cohabitation wasn’t all that bad.
I couldn’t help but think of how intimate this scene was, the both of us getting ready. I wondered if Noah felt it too, or if it was just me.
As I allowed my curls to cool, I put on my makeup. Noah had finished shaving and splashed on cologne, and was now leaning against the counter watching as I finished getting ready.
Foundation, blush, and shadows applied, I took the wand out of my mascara when I finally realized Noah was staring at me.
“If you keep staring,” I said, leaning toward my reflection, “I might end up with mascara on my face.”
“I’m not staring.”
“I don’t know what makes you…” I paused as I replaced the wand in the tube, only to take it back out and lean back into the mirror to do my other eye, “…so fascinated with this ordeal.”
“You could go anywhere without it all,” he said. “I wouldn’t call it fascinating, but it is interesting to watch, I guess.”
I grinned as I put everything away. “Right.”
I turned my back to him, pulling the dress down and dropping my bra to the ground. I unzipped the side and stepped into the dress. When I couldn’t zip it any further myself, Noah stepped to me and finished the job. When I turned to fully face my reflection again, I saw Noah’s brows rise. I tried to see what he saw. The halter style dress dipped and caused my boobs to look fuller, and the back cut low.
Extremely low.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d like it,” I told my reflection quietly, turning one way then the other. I still wasn’t sold on it, to be honest. I felt… Bare.
“No, wear it.”
“Are you sure?” I frowned a little and looked over at him. “I have another I could wear. I bought this one on a whim…”
“No. Wear the dress.”
Finally, I allowed myself to smile. “So I guess you approve?”
“Oh, I approve,” he said, emphasizing it with a nod. “For the record, you definitely look better dressed up than I do.”
“I say we agree to disagree. Now…” I looked around the bathroom before pulling on the fabric of my dress so I could walk into the bedroom. “My heels.”
“By the door,” Noah told me, nodding toward the bedroom door while he stuffed his hands in his slacks.
“Thank you.” I slipped into the heels that gave me an extra three inches, making me not feel quite so short next to Noah. “Purse…” I mumbled to myself.
“Front door. Tripped on it on my way in.”
“That’s right.” I looked around the room again, making sure I had everything. “Oh, perfume.”
Noah laughed at me gently as I raced past him back to the bathroom. “This is why females are always late,” he told me over his shoulder.
“Females? You were the one who wanted to play and waste time twice.”
“I wouldn’t call that a waste of time,” he retorted with a grin. “You ready now?”
Smiling, I nodded and lead the way.
We were only fifty minutes and a cocktail hour late.
Chapter Twenty-Five
After the dinner portion of the evening, the team owner went up to the podium in front of the room, saying a few words and recognizing the wonders of this underdog team. He passed the mic to Coach, who went through every team member’s individual contributions to the team.
When Coach got to my name, I felt Ryleigh slide her hand over my thigh. I put my hand on top of hers and inwardly grinned when her hand turned over, lacing our fingers and squeezing my hand in her smaller one.
Nick, who sat to my right, slapped me on the back, congratulating me.
“Your defense helped, man,” I told him, unable to fully accept the accolades.
After Coach was finished, the podium was clear and the door opened, allowing the public to join in on the festivities. Ryleigh leaned close to me, speaking in my ear as the music started up.
“I’ll be right back. Need to use the bathroom.”
I stood with her and kissed her before letting her hand go, watching her leave. I turned my attention back to Nick and Teague, talking about the upcoming playoff series.
“So when’s the wedding, Prescott?” Jason interrupted, coming in between me and Nick. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
Nick rolled his eyes and Teague scratched at the back of his neck, uncomfortable. I, myself, frowned and turned my head to the rookie. “Excuse me?”
“You and Ry?” He lifted his brows. I hadn’t realized how much his calling her Ry pissed me off until this moment. “Looking awfully cozy during dinner.” He wiggled his brows as if he was well aware of everything that made up her and my relationship. “Let me just say this. I know Teague here’s your best friend, but I think I should be best man. I am, after all, the one who got you two together.”
I clenched my jaw, but before I could say anything, Teague stepped forward. “What the fuck is your problem, Thompson?”
He grinned crookedly and held his hands up. “No problem.”
“You have been an asshole since day one,” Teague continued.
I wasn’t about to have my friend fight my fight so I stepped forward, my fists clenched. “Step the fuck back. I’m fine if Ryleigh wants to call you her friend. But this has got to fucking stop. I’m fucking sick of your shit.”
Caine, not really known for his level head, stepped between Jason and me. “Maybe save the fight for later. People are starting to notice.”
I pointed a finger at Jason, the tip inches from his face. “If we play together again after this year, I will make your season fucking hell.”
Before I could say anything else, Nick backhanded my chest lightly then nodded his head back over his shoulder. Jason stepped away and shortly after, Ryleigh returned. She put her hand to my back and stood up on her toes to talk in my ear. “I’m going to go talk to Melissa,” she told me, referring to Nick’s fiancée. I nodded then turned my face toward her, schooling my features. I pressed a kiss to her forehead and she left. Teague and Caine had already peeled off, so Nick and I went to the bar to grab a beer.
“You are serious about her, right? She’s great for you,” Nick stated as he lifted his beer to his lips.
An odd panic settled in my chest. It was ridiculous, I knew, because I was beyond certain that I loved her. I knew without a doubt I wanted her in my future.
So when’s the wedding, Prescott?
Damn that fucking Jason Thompson. The rookie got in my head over and over again and he f
ucking knew it. I took a sip of my beer, recounting the last few months.
It had hardly been four months since Ryleigh’s note. We went from strangers, to enemies, to lovers quickly. I brought her to my family and friend things, she did the same. But wasn’t it too soon to think about marriage?
Ryleigh wanted her house and her kids and her photography. Could I give her that if I was on the road all the time? Fuck, my city of residence could change on the drop of a dime; could I do that to her?
Nick bought the next round; I bought the following. We sat in silence, a few words being mumbled here or there. A lot of trash talk about Dallas, our first opponent in the playoffs.
When I moved from the beers to hard liquor, Nick got up to find Melissa.
My mind kept going from Ryleigh’s face to Jason’s taunts; Ryleigh’s smiles to Jason’s taunts. Soon it was mainly Jason’s taunts battling my alcohol fuzzed mind.
Marriage. Fuck.
My mind randomly focused on Nick, who was marrying Melissa in June. Now he was a lucky sonuvabitch.
Nick and Melissa had known one another since grade school. She knew the ins and outs of the hockey lifestyle, having lived through them when Nick left Canada to play in the minors. When she was finally able to move to the States, she lived in Nick’s apartments, sure, but that didn’t mean Nick was there even fifty percent of the time.
Sometimes it was just easier if a player’s other half was sort of… bred into the lifestyle. No expectations, no questions. Yeah, there was the support, but the tears and the misery I imagined some of the women fought when they were alone, wasn’t.
She knew she was going to be home alone and that was that.
And that, I realized, was where Ryleigh was too good to be true.
I spent so much time with her, I wasn’t sure she could be alone while we were seeing one another. With her up and down emotions, and her lack of confidence at times, surely she would just cry if I were gone too long or chose to stay at the arena before heading out of town, rather than stop at home.
She’d probably turn into the nagging girlfriend, calling me at every hour while I was away just to be sure I wasn’t with another woman.
Not that I’d ever cheat on her. I was raised better than that.
When the busty, willowy blonde sat next to me, I had no clue, but she bought my next round so I didn’t really care. She hooked her foot around my calf and leaned in to kiss next to my lips and while it didn’t fully register… Ryleigh’s blushing face biting down on her lip, desire in her eyes, flashed through my mind.
It was her face that had me fighting back to the surface. “No,” I said, pulling my head back. I knew Ryleigh better than all that. I did.
“Oh, but yes,” the blonde said, pushing her tits to my arm and grabbing for my neck, pressing her lips to mine fully. “Jase said…”
Cold water.
That’s what his name was to me.
But what sobered me up even quicker was Ryleigh’s face as she slapped my truck keys on the bar beside me, her lips in a thin line and a sheen of tears in her eyes.
Goddamn fucking Jason.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
Never in a million years would I conjure up the image in front of me. The woman draped over Noah was blond, busty, and gorgeous.
Drop dead gorgeous.
And she was clearly as confident as confident was.
In other words, everything I wasn’t.
On my way back from the bathroom, Jason had stopped me and commented on my dress. He had run a finger down my bare back and it had made me a little uncomfortable, so I told him.
Yes, me, Ryleigh, I confronted him on it.
But then he simply pointed behind me to what was happening at the bar, and I saw red.
Through a hazy cloud of tears, but red all the same.
The last few weeks… hell, earlier today… everything had seemed to be on the right track. I loved him, he loved me, we would figure everything else out as it came. But apparently I was wrong.
Noah was just like any other guy, saying things just because he knew it was what his woman wanted to hear. Well, I was done.
“If you wanted a way out, Noah,” I said after slamming his keys down, the tears that had been pooling in my lower lids now getting heavy, “you could have just said something. Saved me from the humiliation. But to do this here? In front of your team and friends, friends that I was starting to think were my own, too? I’m such a fucking fool.” I ran my hand back through my hair, not caring if it disrupted the waves and had them falling flat.
“Who is she, Noah-baby?” Gorgeous Busty Blonde asked.
Ignoring her, I pushed on. I was on a fucking roll. “This? This right here?” I pointed to the two of them. “This makes me wonder what you’ve done on your road trips. You were probably so fucking thrilled to see me in Denton.” Sarcasm etched my every word. I couldn’t stop the tears from their slow slide any longer. “You were probably thinking, Well, damn, there goes that opportunity. Well, fuck you, Noah. I’d say fuck yourself but you probably have enough… pussy… on the side to do all the fucking work.” I was so stupid.
Not giving a damn that I didn’t drink, I reached to grab the whiskey sitting in front of Noah. He didn’t say anything, just lowered his brows as I tossed the glass back, taking a large gulp.
“You damn near finished it.”
Ah, finally he spoke.
“Who the hell cares? You didn’t pay for it.” The liquor burned on its way down. I slammed the tumbler back onto the bar then looked over my shoulder to find a ride. When Teague came toward us, I pointed to him. “You. I need a ride home.”
“Don’t you leave here,” I heard from behind me, glancing back at him to see him stumble to a stand.
I wasn’t going to crack.
But I would hear what he had to say.
Ignoring the continuously falling tears, I whipped back to him and crossed my arms. “Say what you have to say, Noah Prescott.”
I drank too fucking much. That was on me. But fucking Jason and his fucking games.
I had to stand with a hand on the stool to keep from tipping over.
I told Ryleigh once before, I didn’t handle being sworn at very well, especially from her. Part of me understood her hurt, actually ached with her, but it was the alcohol that was talking at the moment.
“Be honest with yourself, Ryleigh. You know damn well what we have wouldn’t work. We fight all the fucking time.” That wasn’t true. Somewhere in my mind, I knew that wasn’t true. “You can’t let me in.” Eventually, she did. “You pry all the fucking time.” Only when I asked her questions. “You’re in between jobs, without a true steady subbing job. Fuck, you don’t even shoot pictures that much. Makes me wonder if you’re in it because you want part of my pro salary.”
It was word vomit. It just fell out.
And instantly, I wanted to take every single word back when her blues widened and her jaw dropped.
“I can’t believe you.” There was disbelief in her quiet words. She stared up at me. I didn’t see the slap coming. “Go and fuck your fucking puck bunny,” she seethed.
How she got home, I didn’t have a clue.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eight weeks.
It had been eight weeks since I talked to Noah.
I couldn’t say eight weeks since seeing him, since I occasionally saw him while I was out on my balcony. I was going to go to Nick and Melissa’s wedding the previous week, but knowing Noah would be there, standing for Nick? I couldn’t bring myself to go.
Eight weeks, and I still berated myself for letting him lead me along the way he did.
I had wanted to believe in us so badly.
Currently, I sat on Savannah’s couch with my hands folded in my lap. I worried at my thumb nail, waiting for her to come back into the living room. When she did, I couldn’t look at her.
“You’re taking this pretty hard, aren’t you?”
I refused to cr
y. I had been doing so much of it in the past two months, more so in the past two days even.
I clenched my jaw tight, so tightly I was afraid my molars would break, just so I wouldn’t cry. When I didn’t answer Savannah, she sat beside me and put her arms around my shoulders.
“Maybe you’re just wishing something was there that simply wasn’t.”
“But it’s there,” I finally said, not bothering to change the tense to past. “I know it’s there.”
I could tell that Savannah wasn’t sure what to say. She’d seen us together; surely she saw it, too.
“And now I’ve got this dilemma, and he’s going to think I did it on purpose,” I rushed out, nearly choking on the last words.
“Dilemma?”
The pause in the room seemed to last ages.
It likely only lasted seconds.
“I’m pregnant.”
Savannah’s quick intake of breath said it all. However, she did go on to say, “You guys didn’t use birth control?”
I glared at my best friend. “Yes, we freaking used birth control.”
“Well,” Savannah drew the world out then shrugged. “I mean, what are the odds you’d be in that one-percentile when it doesn’t work?”
“Well guess what, it happened,” I snapped. Slowly, though, my anger evaporated. “God, it’s got to be there,” I said, putting my face in my hands. “What am I going to do? He’s going to think… but I don’t want…”
“If you haven’t told him, have you at least talked to his family?” Savannah knew I’d become semi-close with Natalie. “Maybe you should talk to his sister.”
I lifted my head only to rest it against the back of the couch. “Maybe.”
I was so tired of everything.
Closing my eyes, I could feel every ounce of my body and how drained each part was.
Every time I closed my eyes, I replayed that night.
Part of me wished I’d simply misread the situation, but if that had been the case, wouldn’t Noah have said something? Come to me, fix it? Why did he jump down my throat?
God, I missed him…