23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Andrew

Even after the game ends and I head down to the locker room, I can't begin to wrap my mind around what happened. One minute, Lottie was shrinking in her chair and hiding from the kiss cam while I felt like a moron worrying she might think I planned it. The next, my whole future flashed before my eyes. Oh man, she's got me hook, line, and sinker. I'm a flounder, fried extra crispy and ready to wife her up and buy her a house and give her all the kids she's ever wanted. Except for the disclaimer. She's not even ready for more kissing let alone a deeper relationship than what we have right now.

I can deal with that. It's more than I had a few weeks ago, and it gives me something to look forward to, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want more right now.

"That was some kind of kiss on the camera," Koa teases after our postgame meeting ends. The remainder of the game eased into good times and great fun even though I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. I left Lottie in the lounge with the promise I'd take her for ice cream before she heads home.

I slant my eyes at him. "Yeah. I know."

Koa nudges me. "Ask her to come out with us. She'll have a good time and see not all athletes are cheating jerks. Might do some good for her to meet the ladies, too."

He means the wives and girlfriends, and he's probably right. I don't know what the wives of those hockey players were like, but I know for a fact none of the lady Sharks would tolerate the kind of behavior Rory pulled. They would have been scolding her ex and squealing like little piggies all about it, ensuring Lottie knew right away what was happening behind her back. Still, I'm not so sure Lottie will want to jump into a similar situation to what she just escaped.

"I don't know. She didn't have the best experience before with the same kind of set up."

"What do you mean?" he asks and brushes his hair from his face. Together, we head toward the lounge. It's almost empty in the arena except for the vendors cleaning up and the season ticket holders who stick around to chat and sometimes meet up with us in their season pass lounge.

"Turns out, the lady Arctics knew all about her cheating ex and didn't say anything to her." I struggle to know how much I can say without betraying Lottie's trust, but I need Koa's advice.

"You know that's not how ours are. Jess Travers alone would be a one-woman wrecking ball if anyone on the team stepped out on their significant other. That's a strong group of women and their friendships are hardcore."

"She doesn't know that though. I'll ask her, but don't expect to see us tonight. I told her I'd take her for ice cream."

"They have ice cream at The Salty Dog. Just throw out the invite. If it helps, tell her I invited her." Koa pauses at the door to the lounge and adjusts his gear bag strap over his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I really don't think she'd come to a game and kiss you in public if she wasn't already getting comfortable. Plus, you said she wanted to go slow and try, right?"

I run a hand through my hair to release some of my frustration. It isn't Lottie causing it, but my own impatience. I want her, and I'd like to say nothing will keep me from obtaining that dream but I can't. It's not something I can bulldoze and claim. She's worth the wait and the fight, but I can't figure out how much I should fight and when I should ease back and let her take control. It's like a game of tug-of-war.

"Yeah, she did but I don't know what that means. She's not my girlfriend, but I guess we aren't seeing anyone else. I'm not. I highly doubt she is."

"So just ask her. Worst she can do is say no, and you take her for ice cream somewhere else instead, right?"

I can't argue against this sound logic. "I guess. Wish me luck."

Koa slaps my good shoulder and chuckles. "Good luck, my friend. Hope to see you at The Salty Dog." I watch him go and collect my nerve. That kiss really threw me despite the ease of our conversations after we cleared things up, and now I'm about to invite her even deeper into my world. Asking her to the game was taking a chance, but this is more than that. This is asking her to attend a postgame celebration, one Marco is sure to attend since he finally pulled himself out of his slump. It's asking her to step outside of her comfort zone and into mine. It's almost like inviting her to meet my family.

I take a deep breath and head back into the lounge. Lottie is staring down at the field, watching them begin the cleanup process.

"Ready, sweetness?" I ask while holding the door open. She turns around and gives me that beautiful, sunny smile of hers.

"Yeah, I'm ready." She extends her hand as she approaches, so I take it and lead her toward the employee parking lot.

"I brought my bike. Did you want to ride or take your car?"

"Mmm, do you have another helmet? You said you didn't the last time." There's a little flicker of hope in her eyes. I don't feel too bad admitting that I got another helmet the day after the beach trip.

"I have another, yes."

She chews her bottom lip and I have to look away or risk throwing all caution to the wind and kissing her again. Self control, Rossi. You used to have that in spades, so now is a good time to remember to use it.

"I guess I trust you," she admits.

"You guess?" I quirk an eyebrow up and slow at the exit.

"I've never seen you ride, so I don't have much information with which to develop an opinion, but going from what I have seen of your character, I think I can trust you, yes."

Well, that's something. Maybe it's enough for her to agree to hanging out with the team. "By the way, Koa invited us to the after party at The Salty Dog, but it's up to you. I'm completely content to go find ice cream and relax with you if you'd rather do that."

And the light in her eyes dies a tragic and painful death. It's just…gone. I've put her in a hard spot, and I'm not sure if I can backpedal enough to right the ship I have so gallantly tossed into a hurricane.

"Lottie, we don't have to if you'd rather not." I brush my thumb over her knuckles. "I promise you, I will not be upset or offended if you don't want to hang out with my friends right now."

"Do you want me to go?" Her gaze locks on mine and I realize that question runs so much deeper than it first seems. Yes, I want her to go, but why does it feel as if the answer to this simple question will make or break that trust she handed over to me? What is the right answer here? I think I know, and if I'm right, it has a lot to do with whether or not I want her there with other women around.

"I want to spend time with you, wherever you want to go. I'm not ashamed to admit I'd like to show you to the world, but I'm also content as can be to keep you to myself." This sounds as if I've already claimed her as my girlfriend when all we are is friends with a tentative agreement to see what happens. I judge by her frown this was the wrong answer, but I'm in a game without a rule book here. I don't know what she wants or how to navigate this situation.

And I can't help feeling like I'm paying for someone else's mistake.

And that maybe that's the right thing to say…with some adjustments for tact, of course.

She's struggling with her decision, chewing her lip with a level of frustration that's going to leave a mark if she doesn't let it go. Despite my slight annoyance—because let's be honest, no one wants to pay the price for another man's misstep—I recommit to proving that she can trust me. I'm as worthy of it as she is of my patience.

I slide my hand up her arm and cup her cheek, forcing her closer to me. "Lottie, I want to introduce you to all of my friends because I care about you. It might make you uncomfortable at first, but I'll be right with you. Most importantly, I need you to hear me when I say I am not him. I will never be him. I hate men like him, and what he did to you makes me sick to think about. Whether we work out as a couple or not has no bearing on my morals that begin and end with absolute faithfulness to the person I am in a relationship with, and make no mistake, Lottie, whether it is official or not, I am committed to you now and for as long as you want."

She swallows and blinks back tears. "But I'm not your girlfriend. We're not official, so you can technically do whatever you want."

"Technically, so can you, but I trust you when you say you want to see how this goes. To me, seeing how it goes means we put full effort into every stage, even if it is only a baby step. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She blinks again. "Uh…" Her breathy response is a stall. "That…you don't want to see anyone else while we're seeing how it goes?"

I snicker and cup her other cheek, drawing her nearer. "Darling, I don't want to see anyone else, period. I want you, and I'm willing to wait for you as long as the reason we're on pause is for your healing heart and not because you're waiting to see if I fail you the way he did."

She nods slightly. "Okay." A few of those tears slip free and instinct kicks in. I brush them away and lean in to kiss her forehead. She melts against me and we fall into a hug, one she seems to sorely need. "We can go," she mumbles against my shirt.

"For ice cream or with the team?"

"With the team." Another mumble.

I initiate a break in our hug so I can be sure she's truly comfortable. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. You're right in what you said. I have been comparing too many things when, for the most part, people are all different. There's no reason to believe this will turn out the same way my last relationship did."

"Still up for a ride?" I raise my eyebrow once more.

She pops out that sunny smile again and I know things might be all right. "I am."

"All right then, let's get on it, sweetness." I release her face after brushing away one more tear and take her hand. I take a step to lead her toward the lot, but she yanks me back. Thank goodness it's my good arm or I'd be wincing and sore all over again, because she's got a good grip for such a little one.

"Wait a minute there, Rossi. You forgot something."

I stumble to a stop beside her and follow her gaze to the concessions stand.

"I still want ice cream. You promised."

A deep laugh comes up from the depths of my chest. She's the cutest, sweetest, prettiest woman I've ever met, and I want to give her literally every single thing she asks for, including a chocolate dipped ice cream cone with sprinkles. Once she's got her treat, we walk hand in hand to the lot where she explains why chocolate is the superior flavor. We can't ride while she's got a cone, so I take it slow until we approach my bike.

I strapped the extra helmet to the back in case she wanted to ride. When we stop beside it her eyes go wide. "It's purple. And very sparkly."

"I thought it might be your favorite color based on Ginger's leash and collar. I hope I'm not off," I admit.

Her ice cream is melting fast but she's too distracted by the helmet to care. "You got it specifically for me?"

I settle on the seat and flip up the kickstand. It's now or never. She wants honesty, she's gonna get it. "I did. Because something tells me you're gonna be my forever girl, Lottie Clarke." I glance at her, her mouth slightly ajar. "I can't wait until you realize it too."