When clapping echoed across the rink, my arms pinwheeled as I started to lose my balance. What I didn’t realize was that there was no way I was going down, because Alex had gotten back on the ice and raced up to me. He wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and buried his short beard in my neck.
“Look at you go. Damn, I’m proud of you. Now, do you wanna try something different?” As his lips formed the words, they brushed the sensitive skin of my neck. Chills rippled through me, and I found myself leaning into him. In that moment, I likely would’ve done anything he asked.
He held a hockey stick up in front of me, and I deflated a little. “Umm, what am I going to do with that?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, then proceeded to teach me how to hold it, how to hit the puck he’d pulled out of his pocket, and everything I needed to know to be the world’s worst hockey player. We both laughed almost nonstop through his instruction and my horrible attempts to recreate his moves.
After about the fiftieth shot, I finally made it in the net. I whooped and hollered as he chuckled and lifted me into the air. “Look at you, Sid the Kid!”
“Who?” I laughingly questioned, having no clue who he was talking about.
“Sidney Crosby.” Alex explained, but still I stared at him in confusion. I still had no clue who he was talking about. He laughed as he lowered me back to the ice—my body sliding deliciously along his the entire way.
“He’s a first line center and only one of the best playmakers in the NHL. Not to mention, he probably has the best backhand shot in the league.”
“Ohhh,” I said, as if I had any more of an idea who Sidney Crosby was after his explanation. He chuckled and shook his head.
He glanced at the clock, and my gaze followed his. I was shocked by how much time had gone by. “You need to get going?”
“Yeah, I probably should try to take a nap, and I need to pack my suitcase.” Reluctance had his shoulders dropping a little.
“Need help packing?” I offered, trying to find a way to extend our time together. He was going to be gone for a week, and I was surprised to admit to myself that I was going to miss him. Despite his playboy reputation, he was proving to be thoughtful, funny, and sweet.
“That sounds like an amazing idea. Need a nap afterward?” he asked with a smirk. We made our way off the ice as he waited for me to answer. Once we were on solid rubber ground, I turned to him.
“I do believe you’ve worn me out, so that is utterly appealing.”
He kissed me, helped me change out of the skates, and we returned the helmet and skates to the guy. “Thank you,” I told him with a smile. His face flushed red, and he stammered slightly as he shyly glanced back at me.
As we climbed back in Alex’s sexy car and went back to his house, you could cut the tension with a knife.
It had me worried that maybe I had read too much into things.
The entire way, I tried to brace myself for the worst.
“When I’m Away”—Artifas
She did help me pack my bag, and we did take a nap. It was the time in between that was the most memorable though.
Each time I slipped between her thighs, it was like losing a piece of myself. It wasn’t a feeling I was familiar with, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have me on the edge of brushing her off. I was suddenly in unknown territory for the first time in my life, and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t something I was used to in the least.
My alarm went off, and I hit snooze.
The silky heat of her skin against mine had me wanting to fuck her again before I left, but I knew I didn’t have time. I’d intentionally set my alarm as late as I dared to give me longer with her curled up to my side.
“I need to get up,” I said into the dark crown of her head before pressing a kiss to it.
She groaned in a grumbly way, and the arm that had been flung over me tightened.
“Yeah, I know. But if I’m late, I’m a dead man. Not to mention the fine I’d probably get slapped with.” I trailed my fingertips down the curve of her spine and gripped one of her firm ass cheeks.
We had away games all week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. It was a schedule that ordinarily didn’t faze me. This time, I was procrastinating getting out of bed.
When my alarm went off again, I reluctantly extricated myself from her hold and padded to the shower. After a quick wash, I dried off, dressed, and brushed my hair. When I stepped back out into the bedroom, she was dressed and sitting forlornly on the edge of the bed.
“How do people do this?” she asked with a sigh.
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly. Because I’d never before had someone I dreaded leaving behind. “Will you watch the games?”
“Of course,” she replied with a sad smile.
“I’ll call you after we get back to the hotel each night,” I said, shocking myself. Our conversation sounded suspiciously relationship-like.
“Okay,” she whispered before ducking her head. I was pretty sure I’d seen a glistening sheen on her eyes before she did. Keeping her head bowed, she grabbed her phone and keys and walked out of my room.
The house was quiet with Victor gone already. Cooper had been by to pick him up early that afternoon, before we’d come back from the practice arena. She didn’t look back as she headed to the front door, and I followed, wheeling my suitcase along.
Using the app on my phone, I opened the garage door. Leaving my suitcase by the open doorway, I caught up to her as she prepared to open the door to her car. Before she could open it, I caged her in. Slowly, she turned to face me.
“Good luck,” she said as she tried to act unaffected by our parting. It was the most bizarre experience of my life. Because I was not the guy that had a girl. Not one that mattered. Yet, this was feeling like way more than a booty-call exchange.
That in itself was enough to terrify me, yet the fluttering in my chest didn’t feel a bit like fear as I stared into her blue eyes. In fact, it made me want more.
“Thanks. I’ll call you. Will you answer?” Jesus, I sounded like a pussy.
“If I’m able, yes.” Part of me really wanted to ask what she meant by that, but I was freaking myself out with that line of thought. It was impossible that I was getting attached. No way.
“Okay.” We stood there staring at each other, and deep down I knew I needed to get my ass in gear. Yet neither of us moved.
Finally, I leaned down to capture her lips in a soft but a little on the edge of desperate kiss. When I raised my head and opened my eyes, nothing was any clearer, but I knew I needed to go.
“Thanks for teaching me to skate,” she said breathlessly. Unable to form words, I nodded. Then I cleared my throat.
“You’re welcome.”
“You better get going.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
I nodded again but didn’t move. She glanced over her shoulder at her car, and I shook myself out of whatever had taken over me. Stepping back, I dropped my arms and took a fortifying breath that didn’t do much for that weird feeling that I couldn’t shake.
Nothing more was said as she climbed in her car and drove off. That tight feeling in my chest didn’t ease once she was gone. I placed my suitcase in my car and drove to the arena.
Since I was running late, it didn’t surprise me to find I was the last one to arrive. Coach and our general manager both looked at their watches. Rolling my eyes, I stowed my suitcase, climbed on the bus, and took my seat.
“What the fuck, Kosinski?” McGregor was looking at me like I had a dick on my forehead.
Beck sat there giving me an expectant look. Kalashnik and Baranov looked over their seat, giving me smirks and raised brows. The bus pulled out and they turned around.
“What?” I asked nonchalantly.
“What do you mean what? You’re never, and may I repeat, never late.” McGregor frowned as he continued to look at me like I’d lost my mind.<
br />
“Technically, I wasn’t late. I still had about,” I glanced at my watch, “five minutes left.”
“And I ask again, what the fuck?”
“I had shit to take care of,” I replied with a shrug. Then I pulled out my phone to look busy. I saw that I’d had several missed calls and text messages from him and Beck.
“He had shit to take care of,” McGregor mutters. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.”
Though I was trying to ignore him, his dramatics made me laugh. “Jesus, dude. I don’t know why you’re making a big deal out of this.”
“Maybe because this is so out of character for you that I’m wondering if you’re okay. You were late, you didn’t answer your phone, your text messages. Are you ill?” Again, I chuckled at his dramatics.
“Dude. Chill. I made it. So I was later than usual. It’s all good. And I was driving—I couldn’t answer your text messages.” How I missed his calls, I had no idea.
He snorted in disbelief but thankfully let it drop. We got to the airport, boarded the plane, and waited for takeoff.
For a moment, I stared unseeing out the window. Then I pulled my phone out of my pocket again. On a whim, I sent a text.
Me: Miss you already
“Who’s Sexy S—” McGregor didn’t get the whole thing out before I smashed a hand over his mouth. He mumbled behind my hand as I shushed him.
“Keep it down,” I urged before looking around to see if any was paying attention. Relief hit me when no one seemed to be listening to anything we had to say. When he shook me off, I apologized. “Sorry, Mac.”
“Dude, what the fuck?” he asked. I raised a brow.
“Is that all you can say?” I knew I was making light of his concerns, but I wasn’t ready to share anything about Sydney with him or anyone else. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to jeopardize her job, but part of me wanted to keep her all to myself for a while. My secret that belonged only to me.
He frowned. “No, but you don’t normally get your panties in a wad about your hookups. All you had to say was that you were setting up a night with one of your bunnies. So now you’re acting out of character again.”
I could’ve lied and said that’s what I was doing, but the thought of saying that when it wasn’t true seemed wrong. Thinking about hooking up with a bunny while we were on the road also held no appeal to me.
That had me a little concerned. With my own frown, I put my phone on airplane mode and leaned back in the seat. Sydney hadn’t answered me, but I didn’t want to draw more attention to it.
“Everything is fine,” I told him.
But I had to wonder if I was lying to him and myself.
Monday’s game was an afternoon game. After the morning skate, I checked my phone. Sydney had replied last night, but by the time we landed, I knew she’d be in bed. She hadn’t replied to my messages telling her good morning.
Realistically, I knew she was likely busy. Still, I sent her another text. She replied during the game and I saw it afterward. She messaged that they were indeed busy but told me she caught part of the game on the monitors they had set up around the arena. She told me good luck, but obviously, I didn’t get the message until it was too late.
We’d lost the game, and I was irritable like the rest of the team as I sat in the locker room after, sweaty and tired.
Coach had chewed our asses for being distracted, sluggish, and all around off our game. The mood was sober as we showered. Still quiet, we boarded the plane to take us to the next town.
To top off my irritation, my phone had died because I’d forgotten to pack a charger. McGregor and I had different phones, or I’d have borrowed his. Then once we got going with our day, I didn’t think about asking anyone if they had a charger. I didn’t get to plug it in until we got back to the hotel after the game and I bought a charger from the gas station on the corner.
Once it had enough charge on it to turn it on, I impatiently waited for it to load.
“You coming downstairs with us?” asked McGregor as he came out of the bathroom. I looked up from my phone.
“Nah. I need to make some calls,” I replied. He came over and sat on his bed facing me.
“You okay? I may have only known you for a short time, but I know you well enough to know you have something on your mind. Your behaviors have changed drastically.” The worry that furrowed his brow had me running a hand over my face. I debated whether to unload any of what was going through my head. In the end, I decided it might be better if I waited.
“I’m good. My mom is talking about coming down to visit soon. I’m a little stressed is all.” All true, but definitely not the driving force behind what was going on with me.
“Oh, shit. Do you not get along?”
“I’m not really sure how to answer that. I guess? Sort of. I mean, for the most part, but it’s a little tense with me and my mom.” My shoulders slumped. In all honesty, it was the first time I’d ever discussed any of my personal family life with anyone but my brother.
“You stayed with your dad, right? I think I remember reading that somewhere.”
I nodded. “My brother stayed with my mom. It kind of sucked because he and I had been close. No matter how much I love hockey, sometimes I wish they would’ve told us no and had us be normal kids. Maybe they’d still be together.” I shrugged and looked off out the window.
“Dude. You do understand their divorce wasn’t your fault. Right? You were a kid. They made choices as adults that affected their marriage. That’s on them.” My eyes flickered back to him.
“All this emotional talk is making me itch,” I said to lighten the mood. He chuckled and shook his head.
“You sure you don’t want to go downstairs? It might help to have a drink. Clear your head. Relax.” He made the offer one last time, but I wasn’t feeling it.
“Thanks, but not tonight,” I said. He stood and went to the door.
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us after you’re done with your call.”
“Thanks, man.”
He nodded and left the room. Once the door clicked shut, I glanced down to see my phone had enough juice to make a call if I left it plugged in. Checking the time, I realized that with the time difference, she might still be having dinner with her parents.
I figured if she couldn’t answer, she wouldn’t.
The phone rang several times. Right when I thought it would go to voicemail, I heard a breathless, “Hello?”
“Hey. You okay?”
“Ugh, yes. I left my phone in my room and I went running to grab it when I heard it ring. I hoped it was you. I’m so sorry about the game.” It all rambled out of her in her winded but still sexy-as-fuck-sounding voice.
“We were definitely off our game today. But I’d rather not talk about it. How did work go today?” Insanely, I actually wanted to know about her day. In the back of my mind, a snarky little voice was saying things I didn’t want to hear. So I told myself the reason I wanted to know was to give me something to think about rather than how shitty I’d played today.
“It was good! We locked down several contributors for the foundation.” The excitement was evident in her tone. It brought a smile to my face as I lay back on the bed to talk to her. After toeing off my shoes, I plumped the pillows behind my head and tuned in to the sound of her voice.
By about forty-five minutes into our call, she’d yawned several times, and I knew I needed to let her get to sleep. “You have an early morning tomorrow and so do I.” She yawned again, causing me to chuckle. “So on that note, I probably better let you go.”
“Mm, ’kay,” she murmured. My chest seemed lighter after talking to her. Like the heavy weight from our afternoon loss had been lifted.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I offered hopefully. Then I kicked myself for sounding like such a sap. Daily calls were for couples. Not friends with benefits.
“Sure, but if I don’t answer, I’m busy.” She sounded r
egretful, and it got me wondering what was going through her mind.
“How about if I call you later after you get off?”
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Sure. Or I could call you after I’m off.” The offer was kind on her part, but the last thing I needed was to have to explain to the guys why a chick was calling me. Nor did I want to explain who she was. That would stir up a bunch of shit she’d likely kill me over.
“I’m not sure exactly what our schedule is going to be for tomorrow. Just send me a text when you get off, and I’ll call you,” I compromised.
“Perfect,” she replied.
“Get some sleep,” I told her with a ridiculous smile.
“You too,” she said on a sigh. “Bye.”
“Bye.” There was an awkward pause, and we ended the call.
For quite a while, I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t even say what my thought processes were. Something in me was restless and anxious. It was like being on the precipice of something life altering but having no idea what it was.
I’d missed a call from my dad while my phone was dead, but I wasn’t in the mood to discuss the fantastic fuckup that the game had been.
Deciding I needed to get out of my head, I sat up, shoved my feet back in my shoes, and headed down to join the guys. We didn’t have a game the next day, and our flight wasn’t a super early one, so if I drowned my sorrows it wouldn’t be so bad.
It might’ve been a bad idea. Too bad I didn’t realize it until it was too late.
I woke up the next day feeling like absolute shit. I’d known the minute I headed downstairs that I should’ve stayed in the room, but I didn’t listen to my good sense. I’d had too much shit swirling around in my head.
Mac was dragging ass as bad as I was. We took turns showering and packing up the minimal stuff we’d unpacked. We both slipped dark shades on and stumbled out to head to the airport. If I had to guess, I’d bet we were both still drunk.
“This is why I rarely drink like that,” I grumbled as we all fell out of the bus and shuffled up to the plane. McGregor and Beck grunted.
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