Unsportsmanlike Conduct: The Rules of the Game Book Four

by Tharp, Emma

  Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he says, “There’s a set of skis. I saw them. Let’s go.”

  Shit. I hadn’t seen the skis, or I wouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s been years since I’ve done it. “Well, maybe some other time. I’m working on my tan.”

  He leans down and kisses me, getting my cheek wet with his own. “What are you worried about? It’ll be fun.” He raises his eyebrows.

  Fun. Maybe. And I have been doing yoga in the morning lately. I’d rather not hurt myself on vacation, but I’m sure it’s like riding a bike. His playful grin makes me say yes.

  “Yes! Let’s get you going.” He claps his hands together before going to tell the captain our plans.

  I put a life vest on and jump into the water. It’s chilly, but it feels good against my sun-warmed skin. Wes tosses me the skis and I put them on, one by one. They’re a good fit. He throws me the tow rope and I grab it, mentally reminding myself the steps to take to get up out of the water.

  The pull of the boat guides me up and out of the water. I’m surprised how seamless it is. All those years of water-skiing off my parents’ boat every summer is coming in handy now. I let out a loud whoop and look to the back of the boat to see Wes with a huge toothy smile on his face giving me a thumbs up.

  With the sun kissing my cheeks, I glide along the water, loving the cool splash as I slide over the wake. I’m one with the lake, leaning in and following my skis. I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed this. I take a nice long ride, but decide to let go. I’d hate to be sore tomorrow from riding too long.

  The boat circles around and comes back for me. I swim back, hand the skis to the captain, and climb up the ladder where Wes is waiting for me. He gives me his hand and I take it. He pulls me into his arms and swings me around like I’m weightless. “That was amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you for talking me into it. It felt exhilarating,” I say, I’m almost breathless.

  “You were looking really good out there.” His hands come down and squeeze my bikini-clad ass. “I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel.”

  “Let’s tell the captain to take us back.”

  He gives me a quick peck on the lips and spins away, walking toward the captain.

  “This place has beautiful hiking trails right on the property,” Wes tells me over breakfast on day three here in Tahoe. “Want to do something physical outside the bedroom today?” Wes raises his brows at me.

  “I don’t see you complaining,” I tease. As if we didn’t spend the day on a boat yesterday. Water-skiing was quite the workout. But I know what he’s saying. We’ve been tangled in the sheets the majority of our trip.

  He runs his finger up and down my bare arm. “Not at all, but I’ve never been here and I’d like to take it all in with you.”

  “Sure. I’d love to go on a hike. Thankfully, I’m not sore from water-skiing yesterday. Let me get dressed and we can go.” I eat the last of the strawberries out of the fruit salad I ordered from room service and make my way to the bedroom.

  Once I’ve changed into shorts, a tank top, and sneakers, we make our way outside to the trail. Just down the hill from the Ritz is the trailhead to the Sawmill Lake Hiking Trail.

  Wes drapes his arm around my shoulder. “I love it here. Thanks for suggesting it.” Wes is an adventure junkie and loves the outdoors. I adore spending every moment possible outside. I knew this would be the perfect location for us.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” I sling my arm around his waist, loving the feeling of his taut muscles under my fingers.

  He takes a deep breath in. I do the same, filling my lungs with fresh mountain air. “What’s not to like? I get to play in nature, and with you.” He gives me a wicked grin.

  “It’s been great.” I let out a contented sigh.

  The lake comes into view. It’s so calm today, the dark water is like glass, reflecting back images of the mountains and trees above.

  “I like seeing you like this,” Wes says, grabbing my hand.

  I look up into his emerald eyes, appearing deeper and brighter in the sunlight. “Like what?”

  “You’re content and relaxed. It’s nice. When I saw you for the first time after our break, you looked tired and stressed. The way you are now suits you better.”

  Smiling, I say, “I like me better this way, too.” I cringe inwardly even thinking about going back on the road again in September.

  “What is it? You went to a bad place just then. I could feel you tense up.” Wes squeezes my shoulder.

  “I’m okay.” I’d rather not talk about the tour now.

  Wes stops and stands in front of me—both hands on my shoulders. “Lyd, I don’t like it when you do that. You clam up and block me out. I want us to be open with each other. It’s the only way we’ll make it.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to keep things from you. We’re just having a beautiful day. I didn’t want to bring us down,” I say.

  He shakes his head. “We can talk about anything and figure it out together.”

  My heart swells. I kiss him gently on the lips. “Thank you for that. I appreciate it. And the reason I was tense a second ago was because I started thinking about going back on the road in September. I’m not sure if I’m going to be ready then.”

  We start walking again. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  Ha. If it were only that simple. “I sort of do. It’s all being finalized. It’d be a big deal if I cancelled the tour.”

  We come to an open spot right next to the lake. “Let’s sit here,” Wes suggests. I follow him to a grassy area and we have a seat. He sits across from me, our knees touching. “If you haven’t figured this out yet, you’re important to me. And your mental health needs to be your priority. Why didn’t you schedule yourself more of a break?”

  “It’s how this business works. You tour, write new songs, record, and tour again. In order to stay relevant, you’ve always got to have something going on. And my fans keep wanting to hear what I have to say, so I keep saying it,” I sigh. “I sound ungrateful, but I’m not. I love my fans and I want to make them happy, but at the end of this tour, I wasn’t feeling it.” I spread my arms out. “This is exactly what I needed. I only hope it’ll be enough when September rolls around.”

  “Okay, well, if it isn’t enough, do you have a back-up plan?”

  I give him a weak smile. “To keep going anyway.”

  “How about we have the best couple months possible and see how you’re feeling at the end of August? We can reassess then.”

  He’s so handsome, especially when he’s trying to help me solve my problems. “That sounds like a plan.”

  “Where to next? After we go back home?” he asks.

  We’ve got to go back to Nashville for Derek and Cora’s wedding ceremony. “I think it’ll be surprise.”

  It’s our last night in Tahoe and we have a spectacular meal at one of my favorite restaurants. An older woman stops us as we’re leaving. We’re just outside the door when she says, "Lydia, I’m a huge fan of yours, can I get a picture with you?" Her eyes dart back and forth between Wes and me.

  "Sure," I say.

  She hands her phone to Wes and puts her arm around me. After he snaps a couple of pictures the woman whispers in my ear. "Is he your boy toy?"

  I plaster a grin on my face. "He is."

  "He's delicious. Enjoy that while it lasts." She grabs her phone from Wes giving him a blatant once-over and winks at me before she walks away.

  I fake a smile for Wes as we go toward the car, but her comment eats at me.

  Nine

  Wes

  We fly private again to New York City for early press for Lydia's new album that releases this fall. She was relaxed, more herself while we were in Tahoe—I’d hate to see her light dim here in New York because she has to take care of work while we’re here. We’ll see how it goes, but I plan to do everything in my power to make sure she remains happy wh
ile we’re here.

  We stay at The Plaza. The place is huge and has a historic feel to it. It's on Fifth Avenue at Central Park South, a perfect location since Lydia tells me she loves the park. While I have been in New York, I've never stayed anywhere like The Plaza before.

  A white-gloved butler takes us to our suite. There are fresh flowers on the end tables in the sitting room and a sweet view of Central Park. This level of luxury is not what a hockey player is used to. Sure, I make money, but not like this. It's easy to be swept up in the grandeur, but it's certainly not necessary for me.

  "It'll do,” I joke.

  She wraps her arms around my waist and puts her chin on my chest, looking up at me with her steel-gray eyes. "Good. I’m glad you like it. Do you mind if we go walk around Central Park? I’d love to get some fresh air."

  Fine. I might've had other plans for her, but she’s as excited as a little girl on Christmas morning—and I’ll do just about anything to see that smile on her face. "That sounds perfect."

  We walk hand in hand out the lobby and onto the sidewalk. All we have to do is cross over and we’re in the park. She’s wearing a baseball hat and scarf in an attempt to remain anonymous. She wouldn’t fool me—I’d be able to pick her out of a crowd, but we hope it’s enough. A nice day alone is exactly what we’re looking for.

  It’s a warm summer day and the energy in the city gives me a buzz, just like it does every time I’m here. “I love New York,” I tell her.

  “It’s the best, isn’t it?” She takes her arm and winds it around my side. I slip mine over her shoulder.

  “I don’t know about the best. But it’s pretty great. The energy here is like no other,” I say.

  She nods. “Nashville is an amazing city, too.”

  “One of my favorites. No matter where I am, Nashville will hold a special place in my heart. It’s where I started my NHL career and it’s also where I met you. Remember that night?” I look down at her and a grin spreads across her lips.

  “How could I forget?”

  We pass a heavily shaded area and the temperature drops. It’s a nice reprieve since my thoughts have my body heating up. “The moment I saw you, I knew I had to meet you. You looked incredible, but you had an energy that was magnetic. I could see it in the eyes of everyone you spoke to. When I finally got the nerve to come up to you and talk, your entire face brightened. I knew then that you weren’t someone I was going to be able to walk away from.”

  She squeezes the hand I have draped over her shoulder. “There was an instant connection,” she admits. “And the way you spoke to me; you were open and you really listened. It stuck with me, because I knew you were young, but you didn’t act it. What about my age—did it bother you at all?”

  “No. Not for even a second. I know you’re older than I am, but you’re still youthful—your skin, your eyes—you’re vibrant. And my God, your body. It’s amazing and you don’t look like you’ve had any work done.”

  She laughs and jabs me in the ribs. “That’s because I haven’t.”

  "I know. But it's worth mentioning." My eyes scan her body. Even though she's in a T-shirt, you can still get a sense of her toned arms. And the shorts she's wearing show off just how perfect her legs are. She's got nicely defined quadricep muscles and calves.

  There's heat in her eyes when she says, "You're not so bad yourself. We hit it off so easily, and that and the two glasses of champagne I had were enough to let all my inhibitions go that night."

  "Whatever the reason, I am so grateful you gave yourself to me."

  “It's not something I normally do. One-night stands are not my thing. But the chemistry was undeniable and my body needed to know what it felt like to be next to yours."

  I don't tell her about my one-night stands. That's not something we need to discuss. They were all meaningless. "I'm glad you decided to take your chances on me that night. The best sex of my life. But what I didn’t know—couldn’t have realized—is what’s in here." I point to her chest and then her head. “That’s where your real beauty lies.”

  She stops midstride and faces me, pulling on my T-shirt. She comes up on her tiptoes and I lean down, and we share a passionate kiss in front of the other passersby in Central Park. "To be continued,” she murmurs.

  I discreetly shift myself in my shorts. All it takes is a kiss and I’m hard and ready for her. "To be continued."

  We walk for another thirty minutes before coming to a playground area. I notice that she tenses up, but not wanting to ruin the mood of the day I don't bring it up. I can only assume that it has to do with the fact that the children are playing and all around the sounds of their laughter fill the air. Lydia thinks that I should have kids. I'm not sure if I want them or not, but I want her more than anything else.

  We go back to the hotel, hand in hand.

  Once we’re back in our room, we order a meat and cheese tray and two bowls of soup.

  “Come here,” I say, crooking my finger, directing Lydia to the couch to come sit with me.

  She does.

  Grabbing her face, I kiss her like we did in the park. On the walk back, she was quiet—contemplative. I don’t want her to get lost in negative thoughts. All I want is for her to feel my admiration for her. This, right now, is about her.

  Stripping off her shorts and thong, I tug her knees toward me and lay her down so she’s spread in front of me. Mine for the taking. I don’t waste any time before I lick her, taste her. She moans my name, and slips her fingers in my hair. I devour her and don’t stop until she orgasms over and over again. The doorbell ringing with room service is when I finally stop.

  The next morning, we shower, change, and have coffee and croissants before the driver takes us uptown to the radio station for Lydia’s interview.

  “You ready for this?” I squeeze her hand in mine.

  “I am.” Her smile is wide and unrestricted. It’s so good to see.

  “Good. You’re going to kick ass.”

  She tilts her head. “It’s only an interview. I don’t get nervous about them anymore.”

  “I’m not a big fan, but I know they come with the territory,” I say and watch the tall skyscrapers zoom by. “It’s good to see you in a better mood today. You’ve been getting in your own head lately. Everything okay?” I don’t want to push her, but I also need to know what’s been going on, so I can try to help.

  Lydia angles her body toward me and puts her hands on my thigh. “Thank you for being concerned about me. It means so much. I know I’ve been thoughtful lately. It’s just things I’ve been working out in my mind. Please try not to worry about me.”

  I run my fingertip across her cheek. “What you’re asking is impossible. I’m always going to worry about you.”

  She takes my hand in hers and guides it to her lips and gently kisses the back of it. “You’re amazing. You know that?”

  “So are you, Lydia.” I know that’s all that I’m going to get. For now. We ride the rest of the way to the studio in silence.

  We walk into the studio holding hands. Without a word, Lydia is torn from me and quickly mic’d up and given a rundown while some guy leads me off to a chair nearby. She looks nervous—even though she says she isn’t—and I want to hold her hand and soothe her.

  “Good morning, it’s Jessie with Wake Up New York. I’ve got country super star, Lydia Crow with me in the studio today. Let me tell you everyone, Lydia has brought a guest with her today: NHL star, Wes Jacobsen. I have to know, are the two of you dating?” Jessie asks, her voice full of scandal.

  Lydia blushes and says, "We are."

  “Well, aren't you a lucky lady? He’s a tall glass of water, folks.” Jessie’s eyes scan me and she gives me a wink.

  I give her a half smile, not really comfortable with where the interview is going so far. Isn’t this supposed to be about Lydia’s new album?

  Lydia doesn’t miss a beat. "I know it. I am."

  "Not as lucky as I am," I call out, hoping the listeners h
ear me.

  Ten

  Lydia

  "I've missed you," Kenny says, walking up behind me and putting both of his hands on my shoulders, giving them a relaxing squeeze, then he takes his seat next to me. "How has your time off been so far?"

  "It's been exactly what I needed." I don't add how I wish Wes and I were back on vacation. We returned home yesterday so that we can go to Cora and Derek's wedding tomorrow.

  Kenny’s been texting me just about every day asking when I’d be home. I sent him a message to let him know I was back and he asked me to meet him for coffee today to catch up.

  "Well, that's good to hear. You should be set for September. All aspects of the tour are finalized." He says it with way more enthusiasm than I’m ready to hear.

  I give him a half-hearted nod and stare into my coffee cup. I’d like to shout at him that I don’t think I’ll be ready to go back on tour in September, but that’ll only draw unwanted attention and I’d rather not give Kenny a heart attack today.

  "Have you been traveling with the…Wes?" I don't miss that he almost calls him “the kid” again.

  I grind the back of my teeth together. "Yes." It’s all I say, not feeling like I owe him any information.

  "So, what is this anyway, Lydia? Are you using him this summer? Because you know this boy is no good for you." He lifts his coffee mug and downs the rest of the contents.

  Anger swells in my chest. I don't like his tone and I don't like what he's insinuating. "I'm not using Wes and he's not using me. We're in a relationship. I think we both see this as long-term. You need to get used to that. And I'd appreciate it if you quit belittling him—and me for that matter." I fold my arms in front of me.

  He puts his hands up in front of him in mock surrender. “Geez. I'm sorry. I didn't realize that things were getting serious. My apologies." He’s saying sorry but the frown on his face and tone of his voice tell a different story.

  "I want to take a year off," I tell him with as much nonchalance as I would if we were discussing the weather.