Chapter 17

Ivan

There wassomething to be said about a beautiful woman waiting to pick you up at the airport in a limousine. I'd left my car there, but she'd told me not to worry about it, that she'd bring me to get it in the morning before practice.

Then we were naked.

She was on my lap.

I was inside her.

We were moving, grinding, rocking ourselves to the next level of passion, bodies in perfect harmony despite being in a moving vehicle.

It was a fantasy I hadn't even dreamed up yet, and perfect in every way.

Kind of like her.

I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for there to be something about her I didn't like.

Hell, she didn't even snore.

The next morning, as she slept beside me, I took a few minutes to really look at her. Despite her beauty, there was something tired about her. It wasn't physical, not really, but more of an essence. Like she was working hard to show the world she wasn't tired. Tired of what, I couldn't be sure. Her job? Her life? Something else?

There was just an edge to her sometimes, as if she couldn't ever truly relax.

And I hated that for her.

She was sweet and kind, funny and easygoing.

For a woman who spent her life being as high maintenance as humanly possible, at least professionally, she was spectacularly simple in her personal life. She had a car and driver for safety reasons, which made sense, but beyond that, she didn't seem to care if we went out, stayed in, where we ate, or what we did. Granted, we hadn't had a lot of time together, but with most women, you could tell right away if they were going to be a lot of work.

Cheyenne was almost no work.

She made everything easy.

Was that even normal?

"Why are you watching me sleep?" she murmured, opening one blue eye and peering at me curiously.

"No reason. You just look pretty in the morning sun." I leaned over and brushed my lips across her forehead.

She wound her arms around my neck. "Do we have time to snuggle before you have to go? I'm not a morning person unless I have to be."

"Sure." I slipped back down and pulled her close.

For some reason, she seemed to enjoy being in my arms.

Again, something so simple made her happy.

"You smell good," she whispered. "Like the ocean, but with a touch of something woodsy. Aftershave?"

"And deodorant. They're a set."

"Mmmm." She drew out the sound and inhaled deeply. "I like it."

"I'm glad. I'd hate to have to stop wearing deodorant because you hated it."

She smiled. "You couldn't find another one?"

"I suppose I could." I stroked my hand up her arm and across her bare shoulder.

"How much time do we have?" she asked. "For real."

"About thirty seconds. I should've been dressed already."

"Okay." She flipped onto her back and gazed up at me. "Morning snuggles are my favorite."

"I have made a note of this."

She sat up and shook out her mane of blond hair, momentarily giving her a wild look. Then she stretched and slid out of bed like an ethereal fairy of something, her long hair swinging over her gorgeous ass as she made her way to the bathroom.

I could get used to having her here.

To waking up next to her.

It felt like we needed to talk about what we were doing, but there was no time.

We were dressed and I filled a travel cup with a protein shake as her driver magically appeared to take me back to the airport to get my car, and then ostensibly to take her home.

"Do you ever drive?" I asked her.

"Sure." She nodded. "If I'm going to visit a friend or to go to a doctor or something. But anywhere public, or anywhere I'd have to park far away and walk, no. It's just not worth the risk."

"Would you feel safe if you were with me?"

"You mean, like, if we went out to dinner or something?"

I nodded.

"Sure. I just don't want to be by myself, get recognized, and then suddenly get mobbed for pictures, autographs, whatever."

"I'm assuming it's happened?"

"More than once. My team put their foot down and said no more. So, I have my regular car and driver here in L.A., and I also use the same service in New York. It varies when I'm in other countries, but I never go anywhere public alone other than the exceptions I mentioned."

"So can you get dropped off at the game tonight and then come home with me?"

"Sure." She nodded. "I'll pack a bag."

"Tomorrow I may have practice, I don't know yet, and then we can spend the day together if you don't have any plans?"

"Looks like I do now." Her eyes glittered with what I could only call delight. Maybe excitement?

"Unless you'd rather stay at your place?"

She shrugged. "No biggie. My place is about like yours… maybe a tiny bit bigger, but it's just a glorified storage unit with a great bed, a closet big enough for all my clothes, and a huge soaker tub. Beyond that, I'm here an average of one week a month."

I had questions, but we'd just pulled up to my car in the private lot at the airport, and I was already running late.

"I'll see you after the game?" I asked, kissing her softly.

"You will." She brushed my hair off my forehead. "Play well but don't get hurt."

"I'll do my best."

I kissed her once more and then got out, watching as her car pulled away before getting into mine.

Time to think about hockey and push away all thoughts of the gorgeous, blond supermodel who'd slept at my place last night.

* * *

We beatthe team from Pittsburgh soundly that night, an 8-2 victory that had spirits in the locker room high. On top of that, Connor scored his first goal as a pro, so we were trying to think of a way to celebrate since he wasn't old enough to go to a bar.

"Let's take him to a strip club," Canyon suggested. "We can bribe the guy at the door to let him in. He doesn't have to drink."

"Not a great idea," Gabe countered. "What if it got raided or something? He'd be in a world of trouble, even if he wasn't drinking."

"And we'd look bad by extension," I said.

Canyon rolled his eyes. "You guys are so boring."

"We're old enough to know better," Gabe said.

"How the hell are we going to get the kid laid if he can't ever meet women? I mean, there are always women hanging around the rink… but he's too shy to talk to them. And frankly, we don't know what the hell he might get himself into. His first time needs to be either a love thing or a fuck thing."

"A fuck thing?" I asked curiously. "How is that different than hooking up with a rink bunny?"

"A fuck thing…you know, where it's just sex. Like a hooker, but not paid."

We all turned to stare at him, frowning.

"You guys never hooked a guy up like that before?"

"Uh, no." Gabe coughed. "I was always able to find girls who liked me enough to want to sleep with me."

"You probably weren't a virgin when you got to the big leagues, though," I said thoughtfully. "So, although he's a crude fucker, he has a point. We need to find Connor a sure thing for his first time. Someone with a little experience, but not too much older than him, who can do the deed just to get that first time over with. Then he won't be nervous anymore and can do his own thing."

"Are we pimps now?" Gabe asked dryly.

"No money is changing hands," Canyon said. "We need to find a friend of a friend willing to do it. He's a little awkward, but he's a good-looking kid. He just hasn't grown into himself yet."

"I suddenly feel old," Gabe said. "Why can't he figure it out on his own?"

"Because desperate, horny teens make bad decisions," Canyon said firmly. "He'll wind up knocking someone up and ruining his life. If we remove the mystery, then he'll be more level-headed."

"Why does it sound like you're talking from experience?" I asked.

Canyon paused, all the playfulness gone. "Because I've seen it happen. More than once. Not everyone is a stud that women just flock to. And as shy as he is, he's going to attract the ones who smell of desperation, just looking to latch onto an up-and-coming pro like him. It happens a lot. Those of us who were screwing everything that moved in high school and the minors got to the NHL with a different level of maturity. As his more experienced teammates, we need to protect him from that."

"You have a point, but a strip club is out," Gabe said. "He's not twenty-one so we can't risk it."

"I say we let it happen organically," I said. "One of us should throw a party and invite lots of people, friends of friends and stuff, and see if anyone catches his eye."

"Harper and I are too old," Gabe said. "Most of our friends are over thirty, and that's not his age group."

"I don't have a big enough place yet," Canyon said.

"Me either," I responded.

"Bailey and I could put something together," Jensen said thoughtfully. "Let me talk to her about it and we'll think about timing."

"And the guest list." Canyon rubbed his hands together. "This is going to be fun. I'll help pay for food and shit."

"Not necessary, but we'll talk," Jensen told him.

Canyon walked away whistling, and we all shook our heads.

"He's a handful," Gabe said with a grin.

"I think we all are," I responded. "Some of us are just a little more discreet about it."

"Is it really that hard for younger guys today to get laid?" Gabe looked genuinely interested in the answer.

"I think it is," I answered. "Not hard, but harder than it was a decade ago. Today's teens literally grew up on social media. They don't know how to talk to each other in person. If they don't meet in school, or somewhere like that, it's almost impossible for them to connect."

"Bailey and I met online," Jensen said after a moment. "So that makes sense. It was a little different for us, because we gamed together for over a year and became friends, but I can see how difficult it might be for teenagers. And I think girls around eighteen or nineteen would be a lot more worried about meeting a stranger in person."

"I hadn't thought of that," Gabe admitted. "All right, so Canyon has a point. We may need to step in and give Connor a hand. I don't think we need to be overt about it, but having a party where he might meet someone is a good start. If nothing else, we can help him work up the nerve to talk to a girl."

"I do not miss being a teenager," I said, with a chuckle.

"Same." Gabe nodded, holding out his fist for me to bump.

"Me either." Jensen put his fist on top of mine. "Anyway, you plan to spill the dirt about that limo waiting for you last night?"

"Chey?" Gabe asked knowingly.

I tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but the shit-eating grin on my face probably gave me away. "She's here tonight," was all I said. "You guys should say hello in the lounge."

"Things getting serious?" Jensen asked.

I had no way to answer that, so I pretended my mother had texted me.

"Oh, text from my mom," I said smoothly. "See you in the lounge."

I grabbed my bag and headed in that direction.

Eventually, Chey and I would have to talk about what we were doing.

For now, I was too happy to worry about it.