by Lane, Stacy
“Okay,” I reply, undeterred. “Isn’t that more an issue for you and your hot temper?”
“He’s not in goal today so he’s safe from me, but I didn’t want you to be bothered if you saw him on the bench.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m not worried about the Werners anymore. I’m happy with you and nothing can interrupt that.”
“That’s my girl.”
Brooks and I hang up. I walk over to the extravagant bathroom I passed when I first stepped into the room. From my spot on the couch, I stared at a wall separating the bathroom from the bed and lounge, but in the center was a long, wide rectangle glass window. I could see straight into the bathroom from out here.
Stepping onto the smooth tiled floor, a deep white tub with gold foot pedals sits to the left in front of me. Double sinks are straight ahead, and entering further I see a walk-in shower across from the tub. To the right is the long window looking into our room. The toilet is positioned behind the door in a small, recessed part of the wall.
A remote is placed on the counter, tiny and with few buttons. I reach for it, pressing the power button thinking it controls the lights or music.
Gasping, I’m shocked when a TV turns on inside the glass. I spin, searching for a projector somewhere in the bathroom, but come up with nothing. The picture is translucent, some Tony Stark type tech. Backpedaling to the bedroom area I go to see if the TV can be seen from the other side, which it can, but it doesn’t magically flip around so that’s a letdown. Regardless, I’m impressed.
I leave the bathroom TV on while I get dressed, because who would use a plain ol’ flatscreen when there’s a glass television instead. Hopping in the shower I rinse off, hair tied back so I don’t ruin the curls I worked hard on this morning before getting on the plane.
At the sink, I put on makeup for a change. Having studied recently how to apply that shit properly from some YouTube videos, I feel like I will fit the part of Brooks’s girlfriend when around the other WAGs.
Thank you, Jaclyn Hill.
I don’t get carried away with all the steps it takes to make that filtered look, though. One, I don’t have the time, and two, makeup is probably never going to be a part of my everyday routine. And I’m happy with the way I look with a fresh, makeup-free face. But going “glam” as they say, is not so bad either on occasion.
A full face glam I may do, but I’ll never slip my feet into a pair of high heels.
Ready to head downstairs, I lace up the fanciest shoes I own. The snake leather, metallic high tops catch in the shimmering light from every angle. They could be black, silver, or copper depending on the lighting.
I tuck the front of my white v-neck tee into my jeans and slip on the new blue leather jacket I bought for this trip. Vegas is way more chilly than it is in Florida, and when I saw this color it screamed the teams color of blue, a royal almost cobalt shade.
I slip the long strap of my black crossbody purse on my shoulder, stuffing phone and room key inside, before grabbing my glasses off the bathroom sink where I forgot to put them on after finishing my makeup. Then I’m out the door and taking the elevator down to the lobby floor.
A couple the girls are already seated inside the restaurant when I arrive, but the other two were just behind me.
I thought I’d be terrible at socializing with them without Chelsea, but turns out I’m not. They talk like how girlfriends talk. It’s not all about their men and their men’s careers like I assumed. And I’m ashamed for belittling their characters by thinking that way.
The two moms of the group talk about their children and has the rest of us rolling in laughter with the shenanigans kids can get into. We talk about books and makeup products that work for us over ones that do not (seriously glad I watched those YouTube videos) and which charities they enjoy supporting.
Instead of feeling inferior to them because they have so much knowledge of everything from books to makeup to kids to charities that I do not, I feel rapturous to know these ladies. They are teaching me more than they can understand.
I’ve been sheltered from the world going on around me, and that’s my fault. I don’t participate in a work event, let alone something for the community. But that will change.
“We’ll see you there, right Jo?” Mila asks after the conversation shifted into the details on an annual gala held at the end of the season.
“Uhh…I’ve never been to a gala.” The question caught me off guard. They were talking about different charities they support and the parties or events they put on to raise money for a cause. Hearing the word gala alone made me nervous at the extravagance something like that must entail.
“That’s okay.” Kate smiles and shrugs a shoulder. “Neither had I before I met Ryan. They can be a lot of fun and you leave feeling like you’ve done something good for someone in need. Brooks will be there with you. And us too.”
Pursing my lips, I ask, “When is this gala?”
They spoke as if it was right around the corner, as if I should have already known the details.
“Brooks hasn’t told you about it?” Mila matches my confused expression.
“It’s his charity. Well, all the Labelle brothers, actually.” Sierra glances around the table, avoiding eye contact with me.
“It’s a ways from now, anyway.” Maddie breezes over the tepid air circling our table.
“Five months is a short amount of time when it comes to these types of parties,” Sierra laughs, lips faltering when no one joins in.
I peer at the other girls. The topic of something so meaningful has fallen tense around us.
Maddie tilts her face away from my view, but I can see the tiny shake of her head nonetheless. Sierra gulps down her mimosa in one swallow.
Five months is a long time in a new relationship with someone. I don’t expect to plan every aspect of our lives with each other in advance. But the fact that these people sitting here with me expected just that for this one event brings forth a heavy weight of embarrassment.
From the sound of it, it’s his charity. Or a Labelle charity, so it’s not just any random event he could ask me to go to. I knew going in with Brooks he would take certain things slow. My expectations were low and content with the speed he needs to take in his first relationship. But no matter the level of expectations, one can’t disregard all hope from being crushed.
Hope that if he could change his opinions on relationships then he can change his mind about futures and falling in love with one person.
I haven’t forgotten his views on love and his belief that nothing ever lasts. I have hope that it will alter in my favor.
“We’ll go shopping together.” Mila tries to brighten the moment once again.
Including me despite the others fearing no inclusion from this particular guy means my doom.
We take a car over to the arena. I put aside the first hiccup in this trip and try to work on not letting thoughts fester inside my head. One should not worry about things that cannot be changed, nor things that have yet to happen.
Whatever remnants of doubt remained about Brooks and I slipped away like grains of sand through my fingers when he took the ice and picked me out in the crowd.
Suited in white, short strands of hair blowing away from his face, he grinned at me as he rounded the curve of the boards.
Our seats were lower level, center ice. Time slowed, the pace of his stride stretched as I locked onto his gorgeous face. I felt my own lips spreading wide to match his.
Seats were filling up all around us, team spirit of the black and gold taking over.
The game started and ticked by with us ladies having a fun time. Brooks scored a goal in the second period. The smile never left my face after he lifted an arm, pointing a finger to the crowds in our direction during his short celly.
My phone buzzed with a text. And then another. More were coming still.
Taytum: Holy shit you’re on TV!
Taytum: The camera zoomed in on all of you after Bro
oks scored.
Taytum: You look hot!!
Taytum: Love the jacket, btw. I’ll be borrowing that.
Taytum: They’re talking about y’all! They just said your name!!
Taytum: I think you and Brooks are official now!!!
I shake my head, sliding my phone away.
Well, if the media says it, it must be official.
Once upon a time, there was a hermit…and she is no more.
TWENTY-FIVE
Brooks
“You fuckers decent? Ladies on deck!”
The shout draws my attention to the door. Our victory over Vegas has the guest locker room in a wild buzz. We’ve showered and changed, but we’re all lingering with exciting bouts of mischief.
It was a good fucking game. Especially in a season that has not gone our way since it began two months back.
I felt in the best shape my body has ever been in my career. As I get older, I find myself in the gym more and more. Not only to condition harder because of my age but to always find ways to better my game. This sport is my world. And I learned from my brother, unfortunate as it is, that it can all end in the blink of an eye.
I’ve always fed off the adrenaline of others. Fans, teammates, family sitting in the stands boosted my ego with a cocksure force to skate into any arena and dominate.
But today felt different. Today I played for her.
Jo flew out to Vegas with a group of women she barely knows for me. She tries to cover what she believes are weaknesses—her insecurities and social anxieties—but I don’t find those qualities weak. They are qualities that make up who she is, and I’m pretty taken with that woman.
When I asked her to fly out here I knew it likely wouldn’t happen. But I also asked just so she would see how bad I want her. I’m not good at expressing my feelings. It’s a bit of a stretch even saying I have feelings. There are emotions I experience in situations, but I’m either hot or cold. No in between. Something excites or makes me happy, or I’m pissed off.
But with Jo, I feel it all.
I feel the build to happiness. How it rises with each new turn of event. Every small moment imprints on my mind and my heart. Nothing can sour that or make me lose it ever again.
I don’t know how to tell her or show her all the possibilities I see for us, and when I try it comes out scrambled, yet she somehow gets me.
She’s got me.
She’s had me from day one.
Five beauties step inside the locker room, and one of them was mine.
My hungry stare ate up every inch of her as she entered, glancing about the room in search of me. I waited at the bench I sat on in front of the loaned locker.
Scanning her head to toe, I growled with a zealous appetite to ravish her whole. Blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, loose curls falling against the sharp blue leather jacket. Her white tee neckline dipped scandalously low, the silver chain around her neck resting in the crevice of her breasts.
Jo’s head pivots right, drifting along the row closest to her by the door until her eyes run into mine. A breathtaking smile comes over her face before feet carry her across the floor.
Two steps remaining, she hops toward me and I lift her, pressing her front into mine. Arms swinging around my neck, Jo lands a greedy kiss down on my mouth. My hands circled her waist, each on either side of her ribs beneath the jacket.
The room is full, my teammates and coaches all around, but she never let that stop her as jumped into my arms. The girl who once huddled down in my car, hiding beneath my ball cap, was now letting the fuck-it flag fly and kissing me inside a packed locker room.
My body was still heated from sixty minutes of play, but the instant Jo connected with me I was set aflame. Her fingers dug into my hair, her tongue flicked along my bottom lip, teeth grazing with an alluring nip. I groaned into her mouth, tightening my hold to crush the growth happening inside my jersey shorts to her stomach.
Setting Jo’s feet to the ground, I kept my arms around her, holding her close. Her floral scent invades my space, swirling my senses and my desire.
“Hi,” she says, dipping her chin in a shy manner when a few guys blow suggestive whistles at us.
Without taking my eyes off her, I raise a hand to flip the knob noses off.
“I want to be greeted like this after every game.” Sliding one hand lower, I slip it into her back pocket.
“That’s how it’s gonna be, huh. I come to one away game and you think I’ll be at all of them now.” Her face tilts up with a grin, giving me that sass she first introduced me with.
“Home games, then?”
Jo tuts her tongue. “That’s kinda pushing it too.”
“Whatever. I knew you weren’t dating me for my hockey status anyway.” I shrug, teasing.
“Nope. Although, I like hockey a bit more just because you play it.”
“Just a bit?”
“I’m still confused half the time,” she whispers, bringing her face closer like she’s telling a secret. “Don’t tell the rest of your family. They may not like me anymore.”
“I highly doubt that, Angel.” Smiling, I place a quick kiss on her lips.
My dad loved her from the second she opened that sassy mouth sitting beside him. Mom was inviting her over to her home before she knew anything about her. And she had my brothers wrapped around her finger, taking her side over mine in whatever discussion or debate came at them. No, my family more than liked Jo. She was so far in with them, becoming the sister or daughter to replace my existence, that I was likely to be disowned if I screwed things up between us.
However for me… It wasn’t about like anymore.
There was a twinge in my chest. Jo was so far in, so deeply in with me, I couldn’t get her out if I wanted to. Pulling her out would be equivalent to ripping me open. I’d never be the same, ruined, if she wasn’t sitting right there with my beating heart, winding the ticker and holding all its control.
“Kate said you have to ride back with the team to your hotel.” She leaned against my hold, unwinding her hands from around my neck and running them down the front of my shirt. The ends of her hair brushed the tops of my arms.
I nod. “Gotta grab my bag from my room, then I’ll meet you at Caesars Palace.”
Jo pulled her small purse open between our chests. “Here. Key card to our room.”
“If I come up to our room first, how likely are we to not leave it for the rest of the night?”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She pats my chest twice.
“What if I promise we’ll go out later if I can have an hour with you first.” I try bargaining some more.
“As much money as I spent on that room I’d love nothing more than to stay inside for the rest of the time I’m here to feel like I’ve gotten my monies worth, but I want to go out. Which is odd and rare for me to say, so we better take advantage of it while it lasts. I have one night in Vegas.”
“Let me give the money back you paid for the room. And your flight.”
“That’s okay.” She shakes her head no.
“If I knew you were coming I would have paid for it.”
“I have my own money, Brooks. It may not be millions like some fancy hockey player, but I’m doing just fine.”
I kiss her to shut her up. “Fine. Then I’ll take you on another trip, much fancier than Vegas because I’m rich like that according to you, and I’ll be the one paying for all of it.”
Jo stares up at me, watching me with a funny look. And not humor kind of funny after I made that joke, but a funny I-don’t-understand-but-I-like-it-anyway kind of look.
“What’s with the face?” I ask.
She opens her mouth, closing it, and then opens and speaks on the second try. “You want to take me somewhere, like a vacation, just the two us?”
“I mean, I prefer no one else goes so I can have you all to myself, but if you wanted others to…”
“No,” she shakes her head, cutting me off with a small grin.
“I like your plan.”
“Good,” I smile back, liking the sound of her and I going off alone to some remote destination more and more.
She shakes her head again, like something is still so unbelievable about me mentioning a vacation with her. It’s not feasible to go during the season, but the off-season, during the summer, I’ll definitely make it happen.
The locker room starts clearing out. I reach inside the open locker behind me for my travel bag. Taking Jo’s hand, intertwining our fingers, I guide us out of the room with the rest of my team.
We follow the path of the hallway, reaching an adjacent hall and bumping into members of the other team. It’s a wide space, and the movement never slows. I speak with a couple guys I’ve known in the league for a long time as we keep walking.
Mid-conversation with someone, I feel a tug on the hand that’s connected with Jo. I glance down at where she walks beside me. Her head is turned over her shoulder, glancing back as someone pulls her other arm to get her attention.
She never lets go of my hand as the person reaching for hers tries to stop her from walking ahead of the crowd. One of the girls could be speaking with her. I didn’t ask about their ride back to the strip, just assumed they were getting picked up in the back since they met us in the locker rooms.
I shared a room with Vic at the hotel the team paid for off the strip. After riding back with the guys I was going to head up and change my clothes for a night out, leaving my stuff there since I would have to be there when everyone leaves tomorrow morning for the plane ride home.
I continue on the walk through the halls toward the bus until I feel Jo’s fingers slip from my hand.
I look over my shoulder as she’s pulled away from my side. My eyes freeze over, entire body going cold when I see who grabbed ahold of Jo and has stopped her off to the side of the traffic flowing in the hallway.
Jaw locking to the point of nearly breaking off a tooth, I spin around with the force of an ice storm.
“Let go of her.” My voice sends chills down the spines of everyone in the vicinity.