30. Violet

Chapter 30

Violet

“Does this look okay, Ms. Violet?” Jake asks over his shoulder with a crayon in one hand. He’s been working on coloring a picture of a hockey player in one of the many coloring books he’s got lying around the house.

“It looks great, buddy! But why did you give him a cape?” I ask, pointing at the drawing he added.

“Because he’s a superhero hockey player like my dad!”

“That makes perfect sense,” I say with a smile.

“Thanks. I’m gonna give it to Daddy before he leaves for his game.”

“I bet he’s going to love it. You know what? I should probably go check on him and see if he needs any help. Will you be okay down here by yourself for a second?”

“Yeah. I need to finish this.”

“Okay. Be right back,” I say and rub his head affectionately before I leave him at the kitchen table to head upstairs where Sawyer’s getting ready. He’s in his bedroom, but he left the door cracked. I peek through it and see him standing at the foot of his bed with his back to me wearing nothing but the towel wrapped around his waist after a shower.

I sneak in behind him, careful not to make any noise, and slip my hands around his waist, making him jump.

“Jesus, you scared the hell out of me. Where’s Jake?” he hisses, looking around me at the door I left cracked.

“Don’t worry, he’s downstairs working on a surprise for you. I thought I’d take the chance to come up here and wish you good luck for the game tonight,” I say and kiss the sensitive skin where his neck meets his shoulder.

Sawyer groans and spins around to face me, hunger flashing in his eyes, then leans forward to kiss me. I feel his cock stiffening under the towel, pushing against my leg, and while I’d love to send him off to the game with that kind of good luck, I wouldn’t dare risk it with Jake downstairs.

“Jake’s not the only one with a surprise for you,” I tell him when our kiss finally breaks.

He raises his eyebrows, adjusting his cock under the towel so it’s not so prominent. “Oh yeah? I’d say this definitely counts as a surprise.”

“No, not that.” I swat at his chest, then reach for my wrist to pull off the dark blue hair band I’ve been wearing, holding it out to him. “I wanted you to have this. For good luck. It’s one of my favorites.”

Sawyer hesitates, his expression shifting as he glances down at the hair band. I spin the band between my fingers, suddenly wondering if this is a bad idea. He’s a professional athlete, for fuck’s sake. He’s got more money than I could ever dream of having, and he can afford the finer things in life—and my big surprise for him is an elastic hair band?

“Never mind,” I say, shaking my head quickly. “I just wanted you to have something for luck, but this is?—”

I start to draw my hand back, but Sawyer catches my wrist, stopping me. He gently tugs the hair band from my fingers, then slips it over his own wrist.

“It’s perfect.” He leans in to kiss me. “Thank you, heartbreaker.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmur, my face hot.

I can’t tell if he actually likes it or is just being polite, but either way, it’s very sweet of him to accept what in retrospect seems like a pretty lame gift. But I can’t deny the little thrill of pride—shot through with a hint of possessiveness—that fills me when I look down and see the hair band wrapped around his wrist.

When I glance back up, Sawyer is watching me. He takes a half step closer, his mouth opening as if he’s thinking about saying something but isn’t sure he wants to.

“What?” I ask curiously.

“I want you to wear my jersey to the game tonight.”

My stomach flips, a mix of nerves and something else rushing through me. I’ve almost always worn Reese’s jersey to Aces games, if I’ve worn anything team related at all, so wearing Sawyer’s instead would definitely stand out to anyone paying attention.

“Are you… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Won’t it be a bit too obvious that there’s something going on between us if I suddenly start wearing your number when I usually wear Reese’s?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. We can make up some excuse. I just want to see you in the stands wearing my name and number cheering me on.”

I can’t lie, I love the idea. We might be just friends with benefits, but I care for Sawyer a lot. And the thought of wearing his jersey as I cheer for him from the crowd, of him looking out into the stands and seeing me with his number on my back? It sends a little rush through me, a giddy sort of feeling that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.

But… that caution is there for a reason.

We’re supposed to be keeping this secret, and more than that, we’re supposed to be keeping certain lines and boundaries still intact, despite the fact that we’ve been sleeping together. And wearing his jersey? It feels like it will blur those lines.

“Violet?” Sawyer prompts, and I realize I’ve gotten quiet.

I look up into his gorgeous gray eyes, biting my lip. “I’m not sure. But… I’ll think about it, okay?”

He smiles and nods. “Good.” He leans in to kiss me again, then glances over at the clock on the dresser. “Shit. You’d better go, I need to get dressed.”

“What, no peep show? Rude.”

He chuckles, giving me a hungry look. “We’ll save that for later.”

Laughing, I leave his room and head back downstairs to check on Jake. He must have heard me coming down, because his chair scrapes against the floor, and I hear him bolting toward me before I reach the bottom.

“Ms. Violet, look!” he says, holding out the picture he’s torn out of the coloring book. It’s all filled in already, even the cape he added. I take it from him and smile at the “Super Dad” he’s written at the top in his chaotic little boy’s handwriting. The S is backward, but it’s cute.

“Wow, this is really good! I can’t wait to see what your dad’s gonna say about it.”

“Me neither! Is he almost ready?”

“Yeah, he’s getting dressed right now. He’ll be right down.”

“I’d better get the list!”

Jake races into the kitchen to grab the checklist Sawyer keeps on the fridge for game nights to make sure he doesn’t leave without anything he needs. I follow Jake and sit down with him at the table to wait for Sawyer to come down, but we don’t have to wait long.

“Alright, you know what time it is,” Sawyer says when he strides into the kitchen a couple minutes later. “And look at that, you’ve already got the list. That’s my man,” he says and winks at Jake, who giggles.

“Look, Daddy! I colored this for you,” Jake says and hops out of his seat to run the picture over to Sawyer. He takes it in one hand and smiles.

“Super Dad, huh? Is this supposed to be me?”

“Yeah!” Jake says and hugs Sawyer’s leg. Sawyer runs a hand over his hair lovingly, then bends down to kiss the top of Jake’s head. He winces slightly in the movement.

“Thank you, buddy. I love it. But let me tell you, I sure wish I had the power to heal like these superheroes do,” he says as he slowly gets back to his feet, one hand on the spot where the worst of his bruises are from the last game.

“I wish I could fly like them!” Jake throws his arms out like they’re wings, running circles around the kitchen table like he’s flying.

“With all that extra energy to burn, I kind of wish he could too,” Sawyer whispers to me, and I hide a grin.

“Daddy, can we hang the picture on the fridge?”

“Sure, buddy. Put it next to the list when we’re done. You ready to run it?”

“Yeah! Keys?”

“By the door,” Sawyer says, pointing at the bowl where his keys are waiting. I’ve watched the two of them do this little departure routine several times now, but I still love watching it. It’s one of the cutest, sweetest things I’ve ever seen, and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching it. I hope Jake never gets tired of doing it, for Sawyer’s sake.

“Wallet?” Jake continues.

“Right here.” Sawyer pats his back pocket where his wallet is bulging.

“Phone?”

“It’s on the charger,” I answer, pointing at the kitchen counter where Sawyer’s phone is plugged in and waiting.

“Did you do that?” Sawyer asks as he steps over to unplug it and check his notifications.

“Yeah. You left it down here and I noticed it was getting low, so I plugged it in for you.”

Sawyer drops his phone in his pocket. “Man, I could really get used to having two assistants around here.” He grins at me, and I smile.

“What about your gear bag, Daddy?”

“It’s already in the trunk, buddy. I never took it out after the last game.”

“Then that’s everything! You’re ready to hit the road.”

“Well, not everything,” Sawyer says and kneels to get on Jake’s level, then taps his cheek. “I haven’t gotten my goodbye and good luck hug and kiss yet.”

“Vroom!” Jake makes an airplane noise, still pretending like he’s flying as he dashes toward Sawyer and throws himself at his dad. He pecks Sawyer’s cheek before wrapping his arms around his neck. “Good luck, Daddy!”

“Thanks, bud. I’ll be looking for you and Ms. Violet tonight.”

“We’ll be there,” I tell him as he stands and Jake runs to the fridge to hang the list and his new picture next to it. Sawyer takes the opportunity while Jake’s distracted to get closer to me.

“I left one of my jerseys out on your bed in case you decide to wear it. I hope you do,” he murmurs.

“Thanks. And good luck.” I wish I could at least give him a sendoff hug, but I don’t want to do it in front of Jake, so I just smile at him instead. “I’d tell you to break a leg, but after that game against the Cyclones, I don’t want to jinx you.”

He chuckles. “Good thinking. Alright, I’ll see you two in a bit.”

“Bye, Daddy!” Jake calls as Sawyer leaves, and as soon as he’s gone, I turn to the little boy.

“We’d better get some dinner in you before it’s too late. What are you in the mood for tonight?”

“Mac and cheese!” Jake declares, and I laugh.

“One of these days, you’re gonna turn into a macaroni noodle.”

I fix him up some dinner, and the two of us eat together, talking about our day and the game tonight. Once we’re finished, I have him help me load the dishwasher, then I make sure he’s ready to head out.

With Jake taken care of, I run upstairs to get ready myself. As soon as I walk into my bedroom and spot Sawyer’s jersey spread out on my bed, my pulse quickens.

I want to wear it. I really fucking do.

I love the idea of cheering for him with his number on my chest and back, but I meant it when I told Sawyer that I was worried it would be too obvious.

After standing in the doorway debating for several long minutes, worrying my lip between my teeth, I finally let out a slow breath and head toward my closet. I know it would mean a lot to Sawyer to see me wearing it, but I just can’t do it. Not now, anyway.

Still, it takes all the willpower I can muster to grab Reese’s jersey from where it’s hanging in the closet. I tug it off the hanger and throw it over my head, and even though it’s safe and comfortable, it doesn’t really make me feel any better about my choice.

But I don’t have time to get sucked into the endless loop of my internal debate. I pull my hair up into a loose ponytail, cursing under my breath at the way the silky strands always seem to have a mind of their own, then hurry back downstairs to meet Jake.

Traffic is pretty bad, so the players are about halfway through their warmup when we get to the arena. Callie is there with her mom, and Becca seems to have brought a few friends from the local dance scene. Margo is busy recording social media footage as usual, so Jake and I are on our own, sitting close to the glass nearby.

Sawyer catches sight of us almost immediately as he skates across the ice. Jake waves, and his father grins and waves a gloved hand back. But when Sawyer’s gaze drifts over to me, I don’t miss the flash of disappointment that passes through his eyes, even from this distance.

I bite my lip and offer him a small smile, already regretting my choice not to wear his jersey.

We could have made up some excuse. Maybe it wouldn’t have been too obvious at all .

I sigh, wishing I could go back to that moment in my bedroom and pick up his jersey instead. I hope Sawyer knows that I was just trying to be practical, and that it’s not because I didn’t want to wear it.

The game starts about fifteen minutes later, and as usual, Jake can barely take his eyes off the ice. I cheer right along with him when the Aces score early in the first period, and we groan in unison when Grant narrowly misses saving a shot from the Knights’ right winger. The puck hits the back of the net, and I can see the frustration written all over Grant’s face.

Shit. That’s probably going to eat at him for days .

I’ve heard from both my brother and from Sawyer that Grant is particularly hard on himself—probably more so than any of the other players on the team. He lives and breathes hockey, barely making time for anything else, and he’s so determined to be the best that he takes it hard when he feels like he let the team down.

Jake and I spend the time between the first and second period dissecting everything that happened in the game so far and strategizing how we think the Aces can pull ahead. It’s amazing to me how well he knows the game, but he’s a hockey kid, through and through.

Play resumes, and we’re about five minutes into the second period when I catch sight of one of the arena employees heading toward us. He’s a youngish looking guy, and at first, I think he’s going to try to sell us some Aces gear, but then he stops right next to my seat.

“Excuse me, are you Ms. Sutton?”

I blink. “Uh, yes, I am. Why?”

He holds out a perfectly folded jersey in both hands, its back facing up. “I was told to bring this to you.”

A confused frown tugs at my lips—but when I see “Townsend” above Sawyer’s number, I realize exactly who sent it and why.

“Did Daddy send this?” Jake asks, peering around me to look at the jersey.

“He sure did. Thank you,” I tell the guy and take the jersey, resting it in my lap as he walks away. The number and last name scream up at me, making my heart race.

“Why did he do that? Did I get a stain on mine?” Jake asks, pulling his jersey away from his chest to inspect it. I laugh and shake my head.

“No, buddy. It’s for me.”

“But you’re wearing Reese’s jersey,” he says matter-of-factly. Then he lights up. “Oh, wait, I know! He wants us to match!”

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

With butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach, my gaze drifts up from the jersey to the ice. There’s a break in play, and Sawyer glances over at me. He looks down at the jersey clutched in my hands, then back up at my face, raising his brows expectantly.

“Put it on!” Jake encourages me excitedly.

I can’t say no to both of them, especially not with the way Sawyer is looking at me, so even though my heart is pounding in my chest and I’m fighting to hide the smirk that’s tugging at the corners of my mouth, I peel Reese’s jersey up over my head and tug Sawyer’s on in its place.

As soon as I’m finished, Jake throws an arm around my neck, grinning broadly.

My gaze locks with Sawyer’s as he skates across the ice for the next face off, and I don’t miss the heat that burns in his eyes. I bite my lip so hard it hurts, willing myself not to blush any harder than I already am.

And maybe it’s the hair band that I gave him for luck, or maybe it’s the fact that I put on his jersey, but the Aces really do have an amazing night. They score once more in the second period and twice in the third, and thanks to some stellar work by Sawyer and the rest of the defense line, the game ends in a blowout.

“Come on, let’s go celebrate with your dad!” I tell Jake, whose eyes shine with excitement as he clambers out of his seat after the game.

We weave through the stream of people and make our way to the family and friends lounge to wait for the players.

Callie smiles at us when we enter. “Now that was a game, huh?”

I didn’t get the chance to talk to her before the game started, so I set Jake down and follow him as he runs to give her a hug.

“That was the best game ever !” he declares with his arms around Callie.

“Wow. I’m still trying to catch my breath,” I tell her when I catch up to them.

She glances at my jersey and gives me a subtle but noticeable look. “Have a new favorite player, huh?”

I wave a hand, careful to keep my voice casual. “After tonight, I think Sawyer’s going to be everyone’s favorite player.”

“Daddy’s the MVP!” Jake declares.

We spend a few minutes reliving all the best moments of the game, with Jake providing some of the most animated commentary I think I’ve ever seen, until the Aces arrive in the lounge. I take Jake’s hand and walk him to the door to meet his dad, who beams at us and throws out his arms.

“That’s how it’s done!” he says as he scoops up his son, and Jake gives him an enthusiastic hug.

“I told everyone you were the MVP, Daddy!”

“I’d argue we all played pretty darn well tonight,” Reese says, trailing in behind Sawyer. “Hey, Vi.” He gives me a quick hug before he notices that I’m wearing Sawyer’s jersey instead of his. “Traitor,” he teases, making Jake giggle.

“It wouldn’t look right if we didn’t match,” I cover, and fortunately, Jake nods.

“That’s what I said!”

Reese chuckles and messes up Jake’s hair. “Well, I can’t argue with that. Glad you guys had fun tonight.”

He steps away to greet Callie and her mom, leaving me alone with Jake and Sawyer. Jake spots Maxim coming out into the room and squirms to be let down so he can go say hi to the young forward.

As the buzz of conversation fills the room around us, Sawyer’s gaze flicks up and down, taking in my full appearance.

“My jersey looks much better on you than Reese’s, if you ask me,” he murmurs, his voice low.

“Thanks for sending it out to me,” I say, keeping my expression neutral in case anyone glances our way, despite the way my skin tingles with awareness. “I was regretting not wearing the one you left on my bed.”

A smile curves his lips, and he takes a half step closer to me, lowering his voice even more until it’s barely audible beneath the chatter from the players and their families nearby.

“Good. Because you’re not taking it off for the rest of the night.”

“What do you mean?” I breathe, my heart thudding against my ribs.

“I’m going to fuck you in it later. While you wear my jersey and nothing else.”

The promise in his words sends a shiver rippling through my entire body, and heat rushes in right behind it.

“I can’t wait,” I whisper.