Collide: A Hockey Romance

SUMMER’S BEEN CRYING for eight minutes. When I pulled into the hotel parking lot, she was ecstatic that her original hotel plans were coming true. But when we came up, and she saw the rose petals and candles, she started to sob. Even the hotel staff that wheeled in the champagne asked if she was okay.

“Summer, the staff is going to think I kidnapped you.”

We’re sitting on the couch as she hiccups, wiping her eyes. “Sorry, I’m just really emotional, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because your grandparents are so sweet then you surprise me with this. And let’s not forget the homemade cookies. Was she trying to make me sob like a child?”

“I’ll be sure to tell her you appreciate them.”

“I already texted her.” I can’t help my smile. Of course, she’s texting my grandma after only meeting her once.

I wipe a tear off her cheek. “Babe, the only time I want to see tears in your eyes is when I’m hitting the back of your throat.”

“How romantic,” she mutters, but her smile shines through.

“It made you smile, didn’t it?” Her eyes glisten, and I smile.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, but you do look pretty when you cry.”

She pushes me away, and when her eyes hit the clock on the nightstand, she gasps. “It’s 11:11. Make a wish!”

Her eyes close, and when they flutter open a smile lights her face. “What are you doing? Make a wish.”

I blink. I can’t think of anything more I would want. Not a single wish populates in my brain. “I don’t have one.”

“Of course you do. Just think of something you really want. Anything. Quick!”

I pause for a long moment, and I realize why my mind is blank. The reason sits in front of me with a special smile and shimmering eyes. There’s nowhere else I’d be than right here with her.

“Summer, I already have you.”

I see the moment my words register, and her eyes start to water again. “You’re such an asshole!” she exclaims, smacking my arm. Only this girl could go from sobbing to angry.

“What the hell?” I take hold of her arms. “What was that for?”

“For—for being so you!” she huffs. “Of course you would say something like that. You just had to be everything I wanted.”

“I’m pretty sure dating a hockey player was last on your list.”

“So was falling in love with one,” she says, freezing. “That—”

I kiss her before she can continue. “I know.” I rest my forehead against hers, cupping her face. “It’s okay. I know.”

“I didn’t—”

“I have you forever, Summer. If those words come tomorrow or ten years from now, I’ll still be here to hear them. I love you enough for the both of us.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

My heart stops. “What?”

“I don’t need years to realize how I feel about you. I already know and I wanted it to be perfect, but then I just kept talking and—” She stops abruptly when she notices my expression, then takes my hands in hers. “I love you, Aiden.”

The words don’t quite click in my head fast enough for me to speak. I know she loves me, but hearing the words feels like so much more. My chest is tight, and a wash of serenity sails through my veins.

She inhales a shaky breath. “You’re the only one I want. It was always going to be you, even if I never thought I would get with a hockey player. I mean, it was quite literally my last option. I probably should have chosen anyone else—”

“You’re not selling this, Preston,” I interrupt.

She clamps her mouth shut, and seems to rearrange her thoughts. “I love your patience and how ridiculously sweet and caring you are. The way you make me feel like what I want matters. I feel lost without you, Aiden.” She smiles wide. “I want to do everything with you, and I want you to do everything with me.”

My smile breaks free. “Sounds possessive.”

“It is.” She lunges to wrap her arms around my neck. I hug her so tight I don’t think I’ll ever let her go. Summer doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean, and knowing she loves me despite everything in her head telling her not to, carves a deeper place for her in my heart. “You and me, Crawford, that’s the only way I want it.”

“Good. Because I love you, and I’m not letting you go.”

My life before Summer revolved solely around hockey. I lived and breathed it with no breaks because it felt like the only part of myself I was okay with. But with her, I want to unravel all the parts of me I’ve hidden. The parts that drifted when my parents died. The parts that became silent when I went from a ten-year-old kid to an adult in one night.

Summer’s presence is luminescent. She’s the last fragment of sunlight in the overwhelming darkness.

***

Summer

OUR BUBBLE BEARDS have dissolved into soapy residue. In the jacuzzi, I sit between Aiden’s legs with bubbles overtaking us. I planted a heap of them on top of his head earlier, but they’ve completely dissolved too.

“You seriously haven’t ever had a girlfriend?” I ask.

Our shower was filled with things that didn’t require much talking, so when Aiden ran a bath, we made up for the lack of conversation. Our game of twenty questions has gone beyond that number, but neither of us seem to mind.

His fingers intertwine with mine. “Unless you count Cassie.”

My head whips to him so fast, my neck tenses. “My Cassie?”

He chuckles. “No, my Cassie. From elementary school.”

“Oh, so she’s your Cassie?”

Aiden shakes with laughter. “Your jealousy is always a turn on, babe, but we were nine.”

I lay my head on his shoulder to stare up at the ceiling. He takes the opportunity to kiss me. A hot lazy slide of his tongue that makes my thighs squeeze together.

“You’ve had boyfriends, right?” he asks.

“Plenty.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, his tone disbelieving. He already knew about Donny, but other than him I’ve never mentioned the guys I was with in high school. I don’t think I ever will. I like him thinking he’s the only athlete I’ve been with, even if he’s cocky about it.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Your delusion is cute.”

I sigh. “Fine, I’ve had two. I guess the rest were just a string of meaningless hookups.”

His fingers tighten around mine, and I wrench my hand away. “Right. That’s why you were so blasé when we hooked up.”

I shrug. “What can I say? It’s a regular occurrence for me, you know, big strong men just falling at my feet.”

He chuckles. “Ishida begging for forgiveness doesn’t count.”

“He was on his knees, wasn’t he?”

“I guess I’m at the top of that list then.”

I laugh. “That would count towards a very different category.” I bring our palms up, and the size difference makes my eyes widen. “First impression?” I ask.

“That I’d totally bang you if you didn’t look like you would kick me in the nuts.” His smirk makes my eyes roll. “You?”

“That you were an asshole.”

He scoffs and nips my ear in retaliation, making me yelp.

“But you had really nice eyes,” I add.

“Really nice eyes,” he repeats dryly. “That’s it?”

“You just said you would bang me. That’s not a compliment.”

“Are you kidding?” He turns me to straddle him. “I didn’t even want to like you, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you or your ass.”

I try to ignore the hardness nestled between my thighs. “When were you looking at my ass?”

“Every chance I got.” He grins and smacks my ass.

“You’re such a guy.” I fiddle with the overgrown hair at the nape of his neck. Curling the wavy brown hair around my fingers. “It really was your eyes.”

“Yeah? What about them?”

I stare into the green that tugs at my chest. Sometimes, I can’t believe he’s all mine to look at. Especially when he looks at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “They’re so pretty that I kind of get lost in them. They make you look innocent, but then you open your mouth.”

“It’s only open when I’m pleasuring you.”

I groan. “Precisely my point.”

He pecks my nose affectionately. “I have my mom’s eyes.”

“That explains it. There’s a warmth to them. Like whatever’s behind them is all good.”

Nestling into my neck, Aiden kisses a point that always makes me squirm. I can feel his smile against my skin. “You think I’m good?”

“The best.”

“Do good boys get rewarded?” His hands run up my sides, as he shifts, bringing the upper half of my body out of the water.

I squeal when the cold air touches my wet skin, my nipples sensitive to the air. I’m forced to pull him close, so our chests are flush. “You’re lucky I’m cold.”

Aiden grips my chin. “Do you think I can’t feel the way you’ve been grinding on my dick this whole time?”

Fire scalds my cheeks. “That was unintentional.”

“Mhm, of course it was.” He lifts me until we’re both soaking the towel he places on the tiles. In quick movements, he dries me off, then hands me a robe, while he dries off.

The way Aiden cares for me is something I’ve never experienced. I’ve complained about my dad to him constantly and not once has he told me I’m lucky to even have a dad. Or that there were people who had it worse—him for example. Never did he make my feelings seem less than because of his own experience. No one has ever understood me like he does.

Aiden lays me down gently on the bed, kissing the water droplets on my cheeks. His body feels so right against mine, I can feel my own heating and writhing in need. Warm lips cover my neck, my cheeks, then my lips. His large, callused hand travels up my bare leg until he’s under my robe. We’ve done this so many times before, but tonight it feels different. The air feels charged with something new.

“Take off your robe.” He moves to sit up against the headboard. Slowly, I drop it, feeling his hot gaze pinning me to the mattress.

“Come here.” Those two words send a weight dropping between my legs. I crawl over to him to touch his hard length. “Not yet. Move up higher.” He lies flat on the bed, waiting for me to follow his instructions.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable.” I eye him with suspicion. “Higher, Summer,” he demands.

I move high enough to straddle his abdomen. He smiles watching my uncertain movements. “Sit on my face, baby.”

Surprise lights up my features when he takes hold of my hips and yanks me forward until I’m hovering over his mouth. “Aiden,” I moan, feeling his hot breath on my pulsing core.

“Sit.”

I do, and immediately Aiden’s mouth is on me. I clasp the headboard for a semblance of control.

“All the way, Summer. I want you to ride my face.”

A high-pitched moan escapes my throat when I move my hips and meet every smooth glide of his tongue and every press of his fingers. With one hand on the headboard and one sinking into his hair, we say every word that settles in the air around us with our bodies.