Home Game: Chapter 35
ELEVEN FUCKING GLORIOUS DATES, squeezed between the intense, exhausting schedule of the playoffs.
One day Zoey and I went for a bike ride and ice cream. Another date, I took her to the movies and watched her more than the movie itself.
I took her to the Symphony in the Park. Zoey lay on the blanket, her head resting on my chest for the performance. When it ended, she cried.
“What’s wrong?”
“It was just so beautiful,” she smiled at me through her tears.
“No, you’re beautiful.”
“Ryan!”
Sitting on that blanket, in the middle of public, I kissed her until someone walking by told us to get a room.
LAST WEEK, the GM pulled me into his office for another unofficial meeting. Rory sat on the edge of the desk, a small smile on her face.
Mark Ashford told me how much he appreciated me making the effort to gel with my team, and that he felt I had proved that I was a Vancouver Wolf. Then he offered me a six-year, $72 million-dollar contract. To both of our surprise, I told him I’d make my decision after the playoffs.
He stared at me for a long moment. “Can you tell me what your hesitation is?”
“It has nothing to do with hockey.”
“What is it? My power has a lot of reach.”
“It’s a woman.”
“Ah,” he sat back in his seat. “I can’t help you there.”
“If she doesn’t want me, I’m thinking a fresh start might be a good thing.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Might this young woman be Zobenia Petrik?”
My eyes widened and I glanced at Rory. “How did you know?”
“I know everything.”
I had a feeling his daughter knew everything and just looped him in. “I’m trying to get her back.”
“So Jensen lost that race.”
My head snapped up. “He was never in the race.”
Mark Ashford laughed. “I will never tire of your competitive spirit.”
“I’ll let you know.”
We stood up and shook hands.
“Good luck,” he said. “But I doubt you’ll need it.”
IT WAS game seven of the Stanley Cup playoffs finals. This was it. This game would decide our fate.
Would this be a cup year? The last six games against Pittsburgh had been incredibly intense. I had no idea how tonight would turn out. The only thing I was sure of was that I’d give it my all.
Jensen walked by me and then stopped in front of me.
“Parker.”
I glanced up. “Hey.”
He winced and looked at the ceiling, gathering his thoughts. “I know it’s been a rough year. We haven’t been exactly aligned.”
Understatement. “Yeah.”
“But,” he paused, trying to find his words. “You’ve been a great teammate, and I’d be happy to have you stay a wolf.”
“Did Ashford put you up to that?”
He flushed. “Actually, Noah did, but I mean it.”
Noah. Fuck me. “How’s he doing?”
His face brightened. “Surprisingly well. He got accepted into medicine. He’s going to be a doctor.”
Something inside of me eased. “I never meant to hurt him like that. If I could do it over, I’d never had made that check.”
He studied me. “I know that. Noah made me watch the tapes last week. He showed me your face when they took him off the ice. You looked upset.”
That had been one of the worst moments of my life. I didn’t know what to say.
Jensen continued. “I heard Ashford offered you a contract.”
“Yeah.”
“You going to accept?”
“Haven’t decided.”
He offered me his hand. “For what it’s worth, I hope you accept.”
I stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks.”
THE HORN SIGNALED the end of the game.
We lost. In overtime.
I skated to the bench, unable to make eye contact with the rest of my team. Some guys hung their heads, hiding tears. It was the worst kind of loss to lose in the seventh game.
Around us, the Pittsburgh fans went crazy. We all huddled around our bench, watched as our opponents lost their minds, cheering and screaming their joy.
This should be us. We should have won.
I stood there, silent and watching, vowing to remember this feeling.
It seemed like hours before we finally went through the lineup to shake their hands.
The locker room was silent as we got dressed. We were heading home.
AT THE AIRPORT, I got a text.
Zoey: You played an incredible game
Me: We lost
Zoey: How are you doing?
I wanted to see her. So bad.
Me: I feel like shit
I did. We had just played an 84-game season and then another twenty-two playoff games. My body hurt. Every muscle hurt. And I hated losing. So much.
Zoey: I wish I could hug you
Me: I need a Zoey hug
Zoey: Anytime…
That made me smile.
Me: We’re just boarding. I’ll be in touch
Zoey: Safe travels
Our flight was seven hours, but with the time difference, we landed in Vancouver at 4 AM. I got into a cab and gave him my address, but then halfway home, I asked him to take me to Zoey’s place.
I grabbed my bag, paid him and walked up her steps.
It was unacceptable to show up at her place in the middle of the night, but I wanted one hug. Then I would go home.
“It’s Ryan,” I said into the speaker.
Without a word, she buzzed me in. Nothing in the world felt better than coming around the corner of her apartment steps and seeing her standing in the doorway, all sleepy and cute.
“I came for my hug.”
She opened her arms, and I stepped into them.
We stood there for a long time hugging. She felt fucking good I didn’t want to let go.
She felt like home.
“Your hug made me feel a hundred times better.” I kissed her forehead.
I stepped back.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was sharp.
I paused. She held the door of her apartment open wider.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
ZOEY LET me use her shower and then I slowly crawled into her bed, wincing with each movement.
“Are you hurt?” She lifted her head from her pillow.
“Just stiff and sore,” I dropped heavily onto my back. “Wake me in a year.”
She giggled. “You want a back rub?”
The pillow muffled my voice. “Yes, but it’ll be too hard to cuddle you if you’re on my back, massaging me.”
“You want to cuddle?”
“Is that okay?”
She mashed into my side and I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her tight against me.
She sighed.
I was finally home. I shut my eyes and slept.
I CRACKED OPEN MY EYES, taking in the bedroom. “Why does this bed feel so familiar?”
Zoey sat beside me, in her PJ bottoms and tank top. She was working on her laptop. “Because it’s the same bed as in your guest room.”
Our eyes met. “I sleep in there every night.”
She put her laptop on the nightstand and then lay down beside me. “How come?”
“Cause it made me feel close to you. Why did you buy the same bed?”
“Cause I could shut my eyes and pretend I was still living with you.”
I lifted my hand and our fingers tangled.
“I should have never let you go.”
Her blue eyes held mine. “It was hard, but it was the right thing to do.”
I leaned up to kiss her, but she avoided my kiss. “I need to brush my teeth.”
I laughed. “Really?”
“Ryan!”
“I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Let’s go shower.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Together?”
My eyes dropped to her mouth not answering her question. “We can shower and go for breakfast.”
She scrambled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I followed. Side by side we brushed our teeth. She reached into the shower and turned on the water.
I watched in fascination as she peeled her tank top off her body revealing the pertest breasts. My mouth watered. Then she kicked off her PJ bottoms and my mouth went dry.
“Are you coming?” she asked right before she stepped into the shower.
“Hell yeah.”
MY DICK WAS hard and happy. I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped in after her.
Her eyes widened as they tried and failed to not look at my hard-on.
“You can look at it, you know.” I started to soap down one of her arms. God her skin was soft. I lathered her up with her pink bath wash, reveling in how satiny her skin felt beneath my fingers.
She brushed her fingers over my chest. I held my breath as they slowly trailed down my stomach. “Your body is so hard.”
I flexed my core muscles.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
I soaped her other arm. When her hand snaked around my waist to touch my butt, I flexed those muscles too.
She laughed. Our eyes met.
“Now is the fun part,” I drizzled the pink wash over her breasts and used both hands to slowly, torturously wash her breasts. Her nipples became pebble hard beneath my palms. I loved how her breath sped up.
“Your breasts are perfect.” I moved my hands down to her rib cage.
“They’re too small.”
“Take that back.” I moved my hand over her waist.
Her hand snaked around and gripped my cock.
“Holy shit,” I winced in pure ecstasy.
She loosened her grip. “Does that hurt?”
I put my hand over hers. “No, it feels fucking good.”
I watched as she grabbed the bath wash and poured some in her hand.
Fucking magic. I braced my hand over her shoulder against the wall and watched her as she explored my cock with her soapy hand.
“It’s getting harder,” she exclaimed.
I groaned and dipped my head to cover her mouth with mine. I backed her up against the cold shower wall, loving how she gasped into my mouth.
I put everything into that kiss. All my emotions, all my heart. One of her hands wrapped around my neck, the other held tight to my dick.
Heaven. I was in fucking heaven.
I lifted my head, breathless. “So, are we going for breakfast?”
“After you do dirty things to me.”
I turned off the water. “Bed. Now.”
We stepped out of the shower and we both rushed to dry off. She was taking too long, so I picked her up, towel and all and carried her to the bedroom.
She was giggling when we collapsed onto the bed.
Kneeling over her, I unwrapped the towel, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.
She lay there, naked, hair wet, her lips pouty from my kisses.
I moved up the bed and dropped beside her.
We lay side by side and stared at each other.
“Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
I captured her mouth with mine and rested my hand on her waist. We kissed until she was restlessly moving. She lifted her head. “Can we do more than kiss?”
I laughed. Fuck I felt so damn happy. “I was taking it slow.”