Chapter 41

Forty-One

Rowan

Today is the first game of the regular season.

I wake from my nap and find Kyleigh on the floor of my family room, her legs stretched under my coffee table, her sketchpad out and a row of different colored pencils in front of her. Music plays lightly from my speaker. She's made herself at home, and I fucking love seeing her so comfortable in my space.

After my skate this morning, I asked her to come over and work here so I could have some time with her before heading back to the arena. She must've come in while I was napping now that she's got the codes to get in.

I walk around and swing my leg around her, sitting on the couch and straddling her from behind. I eye her design, a wedding dress that I assume is for Alara. Kyleigh's starting to find her passion again. She's made me stop more than once at a fabric store, and she talks about the design she's thinking when she sees a fabric or pattern she likes or points out a storefront and compares it to how she'd set up her own store.

"How was your nap?" she asks, continuing to work.

"Not nearly as good as when you're in bed with me." I kiss the top of her head.

"And your nerves?" She puts down the pencils and pushes the table away from her.

"High."

Chuckling, she slides out and comes to her knees in front of me, her hands sliding up my thighs. "Are you one of those athletes who thinks you shouldn't have sex before a game?"

I stare at her between my legs, and my cock strains against the fabric of my shorts. "Definitely not."

"So…" Her palms slide up my thighs, up and under the hem of my shorts. "Can I help take those nerves away?"

I lean back. "Do your worst."

Her hand reaches my hard cock, and she wraps her fingers around me.

"God, those hands are so fucking talented."

She smiles at me, her other hand sliding under the elastic waistband, tugging and freeing my dick. Her thumb runs over the tip, spreading my pre-cum around the top.

"I love your hands on me, but I really want to be inside of you."

I take her hand in mine, guiding her to stand. Her hand slips off my dick, and she stands between my legs. I push her jogger pants down and smile because she's not wearing any underwear.

"We're both commando?"

"Easier access," she says with a shrug. "On the way over, I really hoped you weren't one of those athletes who swears off sex on game day."

She steps out of her pants and straddles me, rubbing her wetness along my dick.

"Even if I was, I think you'd be a game-changer." I fist the bottom of my cock and guide it into her slick opening. She sinks down on me, and we both moan.

Turns out Kyleigh has an IUD, and we both got tested after we discussed ditching the condoms.

I'll never get used to being bare inside her. She's the first woman I've not used a condom with, and there's something special about not having that thin layer of latex between us. It brings us closer not only physically, but emotionally.

She rocks forward, and my fingers dig into her hips, allowing her to take control. I push away all the anxiety that's been hijacking my brain today. The fact that this is my first full year on the team. That we're one of the teams favored to win the Cup. Conor is still giving me the cold shoulder. The tension in the locker room is high and I can't shake the feeling that I'm a shitty teammate.

All of that disappears, and I realize that all I care about is Kyleigh. Seeing her behind that glass. Seeing her after the game. Seeing her in my bed.

"I love you," I say, grazing my fingers up her spine to the back of her head, guiding her lips to meet mine.

She kisses me slowly and languidly, each of us taking our time while her hips move like the slow roll of ocean waves at low tide.

I never thought I was made for commitment. Worried that the evil I was bred from would overtake me. But all I want to do is love and support Kyleigh. I could never do to her what my dad did to my mom. It's a soul-deep knowing. We'll face problems like any couple, but I'll always be a united front with her. She's found the man inside me I didn't know was hidden, and I'm grateful for that because without her, I'm not sure he would have ever surfaced.

Her hips speed up, and I lower my thumb to her clit, taking her over the edge.

Her cry echoes through the room, and I lift my hips off the couch, driving deeper. She digs her fingertips into my shoulders. Watching her come is still my favorite thing ever. The way her mouth slowly parts, her eyes flutter shut, and her head lolls back. It's beautiful, and it's a fucking thrill to be the one to give her that.

Her eyes slowly open, and she smiles. "I love you."

She's perfect.

I continue to push inside her, my dick unable to hold back now that she's even wetter from coming. My climax hits, and I pump and still inside her, grunting as I come hard.

She falls to my chest, and I hold her to me, never wanting to let her go. She's all mine.

Everyone is in their heads when I get to the locker room before warm-ups. Mine is on Kyleigh, wanting to win this game and get back to her.

Tweetie sits down next to me as I get myself ready. "Hey, I think, um…Conor isn't in a good headspace. He saw Kyleigh come through the gate this morning. Knew she was going to your place."

"She's my girlfriend."

He sighs. "Yeah, I know. That's the point. His head is really twisted, man. I'm sure it doesn't help with all the shit going on with his family. I know he went out with his mom the other day. Came back and acted like a fucking bear." He shakes his head. "This season is really important to all of us, and I worry he's gonna fuck this up for himself and us. He's so angry, man."

"What do you want me to do? With the things he's said, the way he's been acting, I'm done. I can't have Kyleigh be part of that poison."

Tweetie looks at me and shakes his head. "I love this whole fall-on-the-sword thing you got going on with her. And I appreciate the mile-high pedestal you've put her on. But this is the Cup we're talking about."

I stand up from the bench and stare down at him. "I want to win the Cup. I do. Don't think I'm not invested in this team's success, but Kyleigh trumps it all. It's up to him to make it right at this point."

His eyes dig into mine, and I'm surprised to find a hint of understanding in his gaze. I figured he'd be chest to chest with me, arguing that I'm wrong.

"I guess we're screwed then. You and Conor are going to take us all down with you."

I don't say anything and walk out the door.

"Daddy, we gotta come up with a plan," I hear him say right before the doors shut behind me.

The fans are sprinkling in. The arena will be packed tonight. I skate around the ice a few times, making sure I feel good, then I fall to my knees and do my warm-ups. Conor is a little farther down the ice from me. Tweetie and Henry arrive later than everyone else.

"About time." Coach Buford gives them a stern warning glare.

Henry skates over to me, and Tweetie heads over to Conor.

"I'm supposed to smooth this over, but…" Henry falls to his knees and does his hip flex stretch.

I roll over to my back. "It's his problem. I don't know why I'm getting the lecture."

"Tweetie doesn't like dissension in the team. He thinks if there are problems in the locker room, it trickles out into the game."

I agree with Tweetie, but Conor is being a selfish prick. And if he thinks I'm such a bad person, then what does that say about his trust in me? That there isn't any.

"You should double-team Conor then." I get up with my stick and skate away.

"Come on," Henry whines, following. "Bodhi acts more grown up than you two idiots."

I pick up a puck with my stick and start the team on some warm-up drills.

Conor skates toward the net, ready for us to take practice shots at the goal.

I practice my stick work, not trying to score a goal, but skate behind the net. I catch sight of Kyleigh coming down the stairs and a laugh bubbles out of me. Not only is she wearing my jersey, but she's got my number in glitter on her cheeks. Plus, she's decked out in the team colors, navy blue and light blue.

Instead of continuing my drill, I skate over to her, cursing the plexiglass that's blocking my lips from hers. I blow her a kiss, and she puts her hand on the glass. In her palm is a small handwritten note cut into the shape of a heart.

You got this. You're the best in the league.

I want to hug her because she somehow knows exactly what I need to hear right now.

She waves me off and puckers her lips at me.

Feeling regenerated, wanting to show her the man she chose and make her proud, I take the puck to the center line, skating in toward the goal when it's my turn. Conor's in the net, and when he spots me coming close and I'm about to knock the puck in, he skates out a bit, puffs out his chest, and I fall to the ground.

Throwing my stick to the side, I get up and grab his jersey.

"Whoa. Whoa!" Tweetie slides to a stop, pushing us both back by the chest, but it's too late.

My gloves are off, and my fist flies toward Conor's face. "You piece of shit. Is that your solution? To take me out before the first game even starts?"

"Guys, come on." Henry joins in with Tweetie's effort to keep us apart, but Conor drops his gloves and swings, his fist colliding with Henry's jaw.

"Fuck, man!" Henry shouts.

"Taking us all down, huh, Nilsen?" I pull him closer to me with my fist on his jersey.

Tweetie and the rest of the team huddle around us, everyone grabbing to pull us apart. But this has been a long time coming, and it's about time we hash this out the hockey way.