12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Elizabeth ‘Liz' Monroe

T he words play on repeat as I try to wake myself from this nightmare.

"I miss your skin against mine." The voice sounds deep and distorted.

"Go away!" I scream at the same time a fist beats against the door again. I want out of this nightmare. Someone… anyone. Help me! Then I hear my name, as if it's an echo.

"Liz? Liz, wake up."

At the moment, I don't care who's calling my name as long as it gets me out of here.

I wake with scream, and my arms fling out as if to protect myself. I hear a thump, then a groan as my vision slowly clears. Looking around, I realize I'm in Mac and Dean's room. Wait… I'm in their room? I roll over to find Dean next to me on his bed, his eyes wide as he bites his lip.

With a grin, he says, "You've got a solid right hook on you."

I groan and crawl to look over the side of the bed. Mac is lying on the floor, a hand over his cheek, his eyes squeezed shut. He must have landed in an awkward position when fell off the bed. Or, I suppose, was punched off the bed.

"I am so sorry, Mac!"

He waves his free hand in the air as he replies, "All good, Lizzy. I now know never to get on your bad side or wake you up from a nightmare."

Dean busts out laughing. "Or at least stay a safe distance away."

There's a knock on the door before it swings open. I groan, covering my face when I realize the others are about to come in, having heard the commotion. That seems to make Dean laugh even harder.

"Why is Oli on the floor?" Taz asks.

Which is followed by Ozzy blurting out, "Holy shit! Who the hell gave you that shiner, man?"

I peel my fingers away from my eyes just enough to see Dean howling in laughter as he points to me.

I turn to the boys in the doorway and watch as Vicy's eyes widen, then narrow on his friend on the floor. "Did he touch you inappropriately? Is that why he's on the floor with a bruise forming on his face?"

Taz and Ozzy stiffen before they converge on Oli. I scream, "No!" That makes them freeze. I wave my hands in front of me. "No! He didn't do anything inappropriate! I was in the middle of a nightmare, and he tried to wake me up." I gulp down a breath as I explain. "I didn't know where I was at first so my arms sorta…" I trail of as I make a punching motion.

"She knocked him on his ass!" Dean says through laughter.

I narrow my gaze on him and growl. "Stop laughing! You're not helping."

"So let me get this right…" Ozzy says, almost hesitantly, while rubbing the back of his neck. "You had a nightmare, and Oli tried to wake you up."

I nod in confirmation as Vicy points to me and then to Oli on the floor. "So… you punched him?"

"On accident," I whine.

Taz stares at me for a moment before blurting out, "He was sleeping in the bed with you." Not a question, just an observation.

"What?" I squeak.

He points to the bed, then the floor. "That's the only way he could have landed on the floor like that. He had to be next to you in bed." A smirk grows on his face. "Does our Roe Roe have a thing for our goalie?"

"No!" I screech out. God damn this frustrating man.

"Well now, that hurts more than the punch, Liz," Mac says, still on the floor.

"That's not what I meant," I say, throwing up my hands in defeat; I can't win with these boys. I look toward the man in question and find him with a smirk on his face. I grab the closest pillow and throw it in his face. "So not funny, Oli."

He chuckles and catches it before tucking it behind his head. "So much better."

I roll my eyes, and my stomach lets out a loud growl. I feel the flush in my cheeks reemerge. Oli grins and rolls to stand. "Alright, boys, time to get our girl some food and coffee."

I start to get up when he turns and points at me. I freeze. "What?"

Oli points to my ankle. "You stay right there until Lewi can wrap your ankle. You have a full schedule today, and we don't need it swelling more than it already will."

I want to argue, but I know he's right. So, with a sigh, I settle back on the bed. "Fine. But I'm only agreeing because I know how bad my ankle will hurt by the end of the day if I don't. Plus, I didn't pack my ankle brace."

He arches a brow. "Not because you know I'm right?"

"Nope." I pop the ‘p' which earns me a smirk.

Shaking his head, he lets out a soft laugh as he heads for the door. "Be a good girl for Lewi now."

"I doubt the woman knows the meaning of good girl," Lewi comments with a snort as Oli and the others file out of the room.

"I know how to be a good girl!" I argue defensively. That earns me another raised brow, and my cheeks heat when I realize what I just said.

Lewi smirks and grabs a small box from under his bed. "Sure you do, Ice Princess."

I bristle at his use of the nickname. I've always hated when guys called me princess, as if I need someone to take care of me or to pander after. "I'm not a princess."

He kneels in front of me with a box of medical wraps, giving me a look that says ‘are you sure about that?'. He picks out the purple wrap and says, "That's the only thing you took away from that sentence? The name princess?"

"I hate when people, men especially, call me princess. It's like you're using a derogatory term." I huff.

He rolls up my pant leg and begins to stabilize my ankle with K Tape. "Wait, how is princess a derogatory term?"

I'm quiet for a moment, taking in the normally grumpy man who is kneeling before me. Not only that, but he's taking care of me. Did I make that much of an impression on him that it made him like me, and now he no longer feels the need to hide behind his mask of anger? Though, now I'm curious as to why he's so angry and how Mac, the gentle giant, and he became friends.

I must be quiet for too long because Lewi's fingers pause on my ankle, and he looks up at me with a questioning look. "Liz?"

Shaking myself, I answer his original question. "When guys call me princess, they are usually trying to get into my pants. They think I'm weak and can't take care of myself." I lower my voice as I try to impersonate a guy, "Don't worry, princess , I'll take care of you."

He hums but continues his task. He has clearly done this before because he does it like a professional. "I can see that. But I don't mean it in that way." Adding one last strip, he lightly squeezes my ankle. When he stands up, he gives me a lopsided grin and says, "You're the princess of the ice. The queen actually. You're strong and independent, and there's nothing wrong with that."

He reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear as he softly says, "But it wouldn't hurt to let someone take care of you for a change. Letting people help and take care of you doesn't make you weak."

I huff out a sigh. "I've had to rely on only myself for so long; I don't know how to let anyone help."

He boops me on the nose before bending to pick up the box. "Well, it's a good thing you've got us then."

"Us?" I ask as he walks over to his bed to put away his supplies. After, he turns to face me.

"The guys and I are a team, and now you are a part of that team. We take care of each other. We're not joking when we say you are our girl." Lewi shrugs as if that should be obvious.

I shiver at his use of ‘ our girl'. The way he says it makes me think he means I'm his and Mac's girl, but he's using it as a term of belonging among the guys on the team. Even though I'm ignoring the pull toward him and Mac, I can't quite deny the butterflies that flutter around my stomach anytime I'm near them. The thought of belonging to the two of them, being theirs, would probably be the best mistake I ever made.

Lewi interrupts my spiraling thoughts when he moves toward the door. He stops, looking over his shoulder as he says, "You're part of the family now, Lizzy. Once you're in, you're stuck for life"—he turns away, rapping his knuckles against the doorframe—even when you try your hardest to fight it."

Before I can reply, he's out the door. What did he mean by that? I stare out the door, trying to figure out the enigma that is Dean Lewis. He has a story, and I want to read it. I want to learn as much as I can about him and Mac, even the others. Because I'm starting to realize that he's right; they've adopted me into their family. I need to learn to rely on them, no matter what. Because they'll take care of me whether or not I like it.

Right now… that doesn't sound too bad. My mind drifts back to last night when I found the note, and heavy hands pounded on my door. My fingers tighten in the blankets before I push my stalker from my thoughts and jump off the bed to change for the day. Thankfully, this room has a small en-suite bathroom, so I grab my clothes before heading to the shower.

I still need to wash yesterday off me. Maybe my disturbing feelings will wash down the drain as well. Once the water is warm, I hop in. As I stand under the shower head, I let the water cascade over my skin, and I slowly begin to relax. I look for body wash and find both Dean and Mac's.

Biting my lip, I debate if I should use their soap, before huffing out a sigh. I grab one and open the cap to sniff. I hum at the smell of winter and pull it away to read what scent it is. It's a combination of pine and peppermint. It must be Mac's.

I put it back to pick up what I assume is Dean's. I do the same thing and find that his smells like a warm summer night. A combination of earth and campfire smoke. I debate between the two bottles and then sniff them together. It's an odd combination, but it smells good because it reminds me of them.

Having made my decision, I wash using with both, so I'll be surrounded by their scent all day. As I rinse off the last of the suds, I feel my mind calm and my muscles relax. I like the smell of them on my skin.

So far, I've done a horrible job of distancing myself from the pair, but I'm not sure how to pull away when they make me feel so… safe. Shaking my head, I turn off the water and get ready for the day. Just because I feel safe with them doesn't mean I want to jump into a relationship with them. We can just be friends. There aren't any rules against the staff being friends with the players.

I slide into a pair of dark-wash jeans and a pale, baby-blue blouse. I have paperwork to finish, so I'll be in my office and don't need to dress in my normal uniform of khakis and a team polo. I'm glad they don't require us to wear anything super professional because I hate dresses and skirts.

Putting on the bare minimum make-up, I give myself a nod in the mirror. Time to get this long day started.