16. Game Time

SIXTEEN

GAME TIME

BAILEY

D uring pre-game warmups, Kris stretches out on the ice in front of us. He’s on all fours, his backside to us, pushing his hips into the ice like he’s dry humping.

“Great seats, right Bailey?” Maggie laughs. We’re seated in the first row against the glass, as close to the ice as we could get. To my left is something they call a penalty box. Peter explained about it, but I didn’t listen, watching number ten grind his pelvis into the ice.

“Huh? What?” I tear my eyes away from Kris’s backside. With all his pads he’s become a mammoth sexy hockey god.

“I’d say the ice isn’t the only thing melting when Kris is around.” She tosses a piece of popcorn at my head.

“Sorry. I just, wow, he’s right there. I could almost jump this wall if the glass wasn’t here and join him out there, humping away.”

“Yep. Great seats. If a fight takes place right in front of me here, all the better,” Peter says on the other side of Maggie. His arm rests nonchalantly behind her back and he sips his beer, dressed head to toe in Glaciers gear. No mistaking which team he’s rooting for.

A buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the warmups. The players skate around, getting ready to play, and my eyes keep trained on Kris the best I can, following him around the ice. When he skids to a stop in front of me, casting ice shavings everywhere, he takes his glove off and puts his hand to the glass with a huge grin.

If I read his lips, I think he says “Glad you’re here.”

“Put your hand up to meet his at the ice,” Maggie encourages and elbows me. I jump up and I do, his big one eclipsing the size of mine.

“Good luck!” I blow him a kiss. He pretends to catch it and smack it to his cheek. Then he motions his finger in a circle like he wants to see my back.

I twist and show it to him, wearing his jersey tonight, after earlier modeling it for him on demand at his place. He had taken my panties off of me then, begging me to go without tonight. So here I’ll sit, freezing my lady parts off in leggings and no other scrap of fabric, just because he asked me to.

The best part of it, though, he explained that if I wear his jersey, that means I’m his baby. No other man can claim me. I like that. Already tonight, I’ve been the recipient of glares from more than one woman because of it.

When I turn back, he gives a thumbs up. Then he puts three fingers in the air, as if to remind me of our deal. A hat trick for three spanks of the paddle. He skates backwards away from me, his wide smiling face not leaving mine until he absolutely had to turn away to play.

“You two are so stinking cute. I’m so happy for you, Bailey. William was such a turd to you. You deserve this, a real mature relationship with a man who treats you like gold.” Maggie stuffs one more mouthful of popcorn in her mouth and then passes the tub to Peter. He was so nice, buying her whatever she wanted from the concession stand even though it’s his birthday and she’d offered to buy for him. He wouldn’t hear of it, and also bought me my diet soda and candy.

“Mags, I want you to find someone, too. That way we can double date, and have those nights where we do things couples do, like join a bowling league or take trips together. You’re an amazing woman and you deserve a man to love you special, too. There’s not one man in all you’ve dated the past couple of years who has the fewest red flags that you’d be happy with?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Peter’s fingers suddenly digging into her shoulder, and I snort. I yank his hand off of her and toss it away so he retracts it. “We’re having a serious conversation here, Pete, so could you butt out?”

He’s about to reply, but the whistles blow and the crowd roars, and takes my attention away. I find my number ten and for the rest of the quarter I try to keep up with the dizzying back and forth. The speed at which the guys chase the puck up and down the ice is a miracle they don’t all collide at once.

It’s fast-paced though and never dull; I find I really like the game more than I expected to. For Kris’ personality, always needing to be doing something, I get the reason he loves it. Of course, I’d sit here and support him if I didn’t like hockey, so it helps that I do now.

There are only ten seconds left in the first period, and he hasn’t scored yet, except he gets the puck on a steal and breaks away for the net. Everyone around me leaps to their feet, yelling for him to take the shot.

The excitement is contagious. I shout, “Go number ten!” It all happens too fast for me to track, and next thing I know, the black disk is in the net, the light at the net flashes, and horns go off. Rousing music plays and the crowd is dancing, clapping, and cheering. Men with their kids are lifting them up high to celebrate.

Kris flies by the glass in front of me, grinning and holding up a finger.

“That’s one,” Maggie interprets and reminds me, shaking my arm. I’d confided in her about my paddle deal with Kris. Three goals, three paddles. We hug, so happy for him. “He needs two more, and girl, you are getting it, tonight.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you.” I roll my eyes as we sit back down.

“Why? Trust me, Bailey, you’re going to love how amazing it feels.”

“How what feels?” Peter hones in on our conversation. The first period is over and people around us head up the stairs for the concessions. The teams skate off the ice.

“Don’t you dare tell him,” I warn her. “I’ll be back in a few. Does anyone want anything?” I take off a minute later, bounding up the steps. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. Kris must be texting from the locker room.

Kris: One.

I send him a kissy face emoji back, my pulse racing in anticipation of whatever lies ahead.

As I return from standing in the long line and using the ladies’ restroom, I see Peter has his arm around Maggie and their heads are together, talking rather intimately, if I don’t know better. I squint my eyes and home in on one detail though. His fingertips caressing her shoulder.

“Hey. I’m back.” They startle when I appear next to them like they’ve been caught doing something naughty. Peter quickly excuses himself and heads up the stairs. I don’t think anymore of it.

The second period flies by faster than the first. I get so caught up in the gameplay and watching the fans; I do like others do, slapping the glass and yelling. Occasionally, a player gets penalized and sent to sit out in the box next to me.

At one point, it’s Kris heading for the box after he got called for tripping. Fans boo and hiss, and his mug is grim as he sits. He’s dripping with sweat, but still so sexy as he rests there for two minutes. His anger dissipates once his eyes are on me the entire time, winking and blowing kisses.

“Gotta get two more, Irish,” he yells. He wipes his face with a towel, drinks his water, and spits, but the best part is when he brings the hem of his jersey up to his forehead, his glistening six-pack abs on display. Judging from his sly smile, he did that on purpose for me.

The two minutes are over in a flash, the entire display of manliness leaving my panties weeping. Why does there have to be glass separating us? I would have loved to send him back to the ice with a kiss to his sweaty mouth.

The periods tick by on the close game with each team trading goals, neither getting enough ahead. I’m on the edge of my seat, and scream when he gets a hard fought second puck in the net at the beginning of the third period. And finally, with seconds to spare at the very end of it, Maggie and I grab hands on our feet and shout for Kris as he makes a break for an empty net with the puck and scores.

“That’s three! That’s three! You’re getting paddled tonight,” she squeals.

“Well, consider me a fan of hockey.” I don’t even care anymore who might hear about my pending spanks. Somehow, the entire game was foreplay and I’m totally turned on, ready for Kris to attack me the minute we get home. Except it is Peter’s birthday and we have karaoke to attend yet.

Later, while we wait at the bar for Kris to meet us here, I try to calm myself down. I start us off with a round of celebratory shots, wishing Peter well.

“You’re not drinking? Want a different shot?” I notice Maggie doesn’t touch hers.

“No, I’m fine. I’ve had a nagging sour stomach all day. I’m going to take it easy tonight. Come on, let’s go tell the DJ what we want to sing.” She drags me by the arm with her.

We all sing and laugh and have a great time. I allow myself to get wasted; Kris is driving me home. I’ve downed at least two more shots and three rum and colas, and feeling good by the time Maggie and I hit the dance floor. We move to the heady beat.

“Maggie, I’m so happy,” I yell, throwing my arms in the air, the world spinning around me.

She takes my shoulders and turns me, sing-songing into my ear, “I think you’re about to be happier.”

Kris arrives and approaches me, my handsome man, with one of his smoldering stares. He should trademark those, The Heartbreaker Stare, only to be used by him and no one else. And the best part, he’s all mine.

“You’re here,” I melt into his arms, and he lifts me straight up, turning me in dizzying circles until he lets my body slide down the front of him and my feet are back on the ground.

He holds me tightly pressed against him, nuzzling into my neck. “I fucking want you, baby. How soon can we leave?”

“After you sing a song with me. One song.”

“I told you. I don’t sing, Irish. You know I sure as hell can dance, though.”

His moves tonight are no waltz. The man has unreal hip action like I’ve never seen. We dirty dance so good, gyrating on each other, until I can’t take another minute of it.

“I want you now. I’m ready to go. Meet you at the door,” I tell him, and get no arguments from him. I don’t see Maggie anywhere and trip up on the way to the restrooms.

I burst into the bathroom. The dizziness becomes too much. My stomach heaves; I’m going to vomit. I yank open the first stall door so strong, it breaks the door latch off. I scream, unprepared for the sight in front of me. Peter has Maggie up against the wall, his pants down, and bare ass showing, drilling into her.

“Oh, my God. You two? What?” I gasp.

“Bailey!” Maggie exclaims and pushes Peter to let her down.

“How long have you two been doing this? You know what? Forget it. Don’t tell me.” I flee out of the bathroom. My entire life tilts on its axis. Or it’s the alcohol taking over in my bloodstream.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Kris catches me as I smack right into his arms.

I push away. “I’m gonna throw up.”

Suddenly he’s holding a trash bin under me and pulling my hair back as everything I drank all night comes back up. How did he do that so fast? Who does he think he is, Super Guy saving the day all the time?

Eventually, I dry heave with nothing more to give the can, regretting every harsh word I formerly wrote about Kris in L.A. when I thought he cheated on Tia. Because no matter what, repeatedly, he’s proven he’s a pretty decent man.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry you saw that.” Maggie appears at my side and takes over hair duty from Kris.

“How long have you been fucking him?” I cry, shirking away from her help and pointing to Peter, who is next to her. They share a sheepish look between them.

“A couple of months. It started over happy hour drinks. You remember the night you forgot you had to run out to the hospital’s ladies’ auxiliary dinner to interview their president, and you left us there at the bar? Believe me, we’ve wanted to tell you when the time was right.” She tries to explain.

“You could have stopped it once you realized it probably wasn’t a good idea to fuck your coworker.” I insinuate.

“Bailey, maybe this isn’t a good time to talk about this,” Kris gently squeezes my arm with a placating voice, as if to warn I’ve taken things too far. But these are my friends, dammit. I’ll take it as far as my drunk ass wants to. I yank away from him.

“We didn’t want to tell you right away because you were so down about things in your life, compared to how happy we were to start seeing each other. But then you met Kris, and you seem better now. Peter begged me to tell you tonight at the game, but I chickened out. I’m sorry. We tried to stop at first, but we seem incapable of stopping whatever this is between us,” she pleads.

“Because I love you, Mags.” Peter blurts out.

“What? You do?” She blinks at him.

“What?” I say at the same time. “I just threw up after the most backstabbing thing my two friends could have done to me, and you choose now to say that to her? That’s not very romantic, Pete. She deserves better.” I snap back.

“Bailey—” Maggie starts, but it’s too late. The alcohol has taken over, and I put my hands up on guard.

“Don’t. You two are my friends, my coworkers. I would have been fine and understood if you had told me, gosh Bailey, we spend all day together at work, but we also spend all night fucking around together too? ”

“It’s more than fucking around. I’m pregnant, Peter.”

My jaw drops at Maggie’s feet. In this dark bar, I’m never going to find it again.

“A baby? Fuck me.” He runs a hand through his hair, then drops to his knee. “Marry me. Move in with me.”

“Uh…I’m sorry, no. Maggie can’t come to this pathetic proposal in the middle of a skanky bar right now. She’s busy getting the sense knocked into her by me. Come with me, now,” I spout and try to take her by the arm, but she pulls away.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Bailey? I’ve finally found someone who gets me. And he’s a really good guy.” She takes his hands in hers.

“But he’s not filthy rich. You wrote a list of the top five things you wanted in your next relationship. That was pretty close to the top, I seem to recall.” When I finish, I realize that probably was not something I should have said openly. Maggie glares at me.

“I thought you said money wasn’t that important to you?” Peter stands.

“It isn’t, not really. Okay, yes, I used to date rich men. But once I got to know you outside of the office, I realized what a good soul you are, and that’s worth more to me than gold. We have to start somewhere. Together, we can grow rich in love and money, right?”

They kiss and I can’t take another second of this. I know I’m blowing this out of proportion, and tomorrow things should make more sense, but right now I need out of here. I run outside, trying to erase the picture of the two of them together.

Once there, I double over on the sidewalk to catch my breath. Then I groan, realizing I forgot my phone, purse and coat inside.

But guess who rushes toward me, carrying it all, always taking care of me?