8. Drake

Watching her struggle with her emotions is rough, but I want her to fix things between her and her dad, as well as with Chasity. It's important regardless if this works out between the two of us or not.

Susie refuses to take payment for our meals and the two of us leave through the kitchen.

As we reach the sidewalk, I feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a magnetic pull drawing me closer to Emma. Seeing her vulnerable was hard because I didn't like the pain I witnessed in her eyes, but it made me feel closer to her.

"Emma," I say, my voice soft, "I had a great time today. How about we make it even better?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And how do you propose we do that?"

Leaning in, I close the gap between us, my eyes locked onto hers, and I attempt to seal the moment with a kiss. But, to my surprise, she tilts her head slightly, gracefully evading the kiss with a swift movement.

"I have a headache," she replies softly.

I pull back, a mix of confusion and disappointment clouding my expression.

"Okay."

She smiles, seemingly relieved, and the spell is broken. The moment, which felt so charged with potential just seconds ago, now hangs in the air with an awkward tension. We both stand there, the weight of unspoken words settling between us. She disappears up the stairs and into her apartment, leaving me standing on the sidewalk, perplexed.

***

A few hours later, I stand outside Emma"s apartment, the anticipation of the hockey game bubbling beneath the surface. I'm picking her up for the match, a rare occasion where the thrill of the game merges with the prospect of sharing the experience with someone special.

As she opens the door, I"m momentarily captivated by the sight of her. She's wearing jeans, black boots, and a matching V-neck sweater. My eyes linger for a moment longer than intended, appreciating the way her outfit complements the casual vibe of the evening.

"Hey," she greets me with a warm smile.

"Hey," I reply, my own smile mirroring hers. I extend a hand, offering her a small Willow Creek hoodie. "Thought you might want something to keep you warm at the rink."

"Are you trying to turn me into a walking advertisement for Willow Creek?"

I chuckle, the playfulness contagious. "Just trying to keep you cozy. It gets chilly in the rink."

"I'm aware," she laughs and rolls her eyes. "I'm not thrilled with the idea of going to a hockey game."

"Noted. Thank you for appeasing me."

She slips into the hoodie and we make our way to the car, the evening unfolding with the promise of a memorable night.

Damn, she looks good wearing the Battle Hawk's colors.

The drive to the rink is punctuated by easy conversation, a blend of anticipation for the game, and the shared moments that weave the fabric of connection.

As we arrive at the rink, the atmosphere is charged with the excitement of the impending match. The scent of popcorn and the sounds of fans fill the air, creating a sensory symphony that"s uniquely hockey. The Willow Creek Rink stands tall against the night sky, a fortress of fervent support and relentless passion for the sport.

I lead Emma through the bustling crowd, navigating the familiar corridors that lead to the suites. The roar of the crowd becomes a distant hum as we make our way to the suite, a private vantage point that promises a unique view of the game.

Opening the door to the suite, I gesture for Emma to enter first. The space is inviting, with plush seats and a panoramic view of the rink below. The hum of conversations and the distant echoes of the crowd filter through, creating a cocoon of anticipation.

"Welcome to the suite," I say, my tone infused with a hint of pride. "Best seats in the house."

"This is incredible, Drake. Thank you for bringing me here."

I nod, appreciating her genuine excitement. "Glad you like it. Now, get ready for some intense hockey action."

As we settle into our seats, the game unfolds below, the players moving with a grace and precision that"s mesmerizing. The familiar thrill of watching the game from a suite mingles with the novelty of sharing the experience with Emma. The atmosphere is electric, a symphony of cheers and applause that reverberates through the rink.

The Battle Hawk's take to the ice, each player a testament to the skill and dedication that defines professional hockey. The Tigers, formidable in their own right, are met with determined stares and a collective resolve to dominate the game.

Zane glides onto the ice with a confidence that"s almost magnetic. There"s a grace in his movements, a fluidity that sets him apart. As the game begins, Zane becomes a force to be reckoned with, his prowess on the ice evident in every move.

"He's still a puck hog, I see," Emma sighs.

I nod. "He's so good that no one complains anymore."

"He'd be ten times the player he is now if he learned to be a team player."

"Have you been listening to our conversations? Because that's what I tell him all the time."

"I told him that in high school," she giggles. "He didn't listen then either."

The puck moves with an almost dizzying speed, the players engaging in a dance of strategy and skill. The cheers from the crowd become a rhythmic pulse, echoing the ebb and flow of the game. It"s a dynamic spectacle, a collision of passion and precision that defines the essence of professional hockey.

The stadium continues to buzz with anticipation as the Battle Hawks and the Tigers clash on the ice. The puck darts across the rink, passing between Syd and another player, Warner, like a comet streaking through the night sky. The crowd erupts into cheers as we gain possession and surge towards the Tiger"s goal.

Syd weaves through defenders with lightning speed, executing precise stick-handling maneuvers that leave the Tigers grasping at air. The ice beneath his skates seems to come alive as he accelerates, leaving a trail of frost in his wake. The Tigers's goalie eyes him with intensity, ready to defend the net against the imminent threat.

In a split-second decision, Syd unleashes a blistering slap shot. The puck whizzes through the air, a small black disc on a collision course with the net. The goalie reacts with lightning reflexes, stretching his body to the limits to make the save. The tension in the stadium reaches a fever pitch as the puck hurtles towards the goal.

Suddenly, with an acrobatic move, the Tigers's goalie makes a jaw-dropping save, deflecting the puck with the edge of his glove. We all gasp in disbelief, and the stadium erupts into a mix of cheers and groans. The play is far from over.

Zane does what Zane does best and seizes the rebound, swooping in like a true hawk, determined to capitalize on the chaos. The puck dances on his stick as he expertly dekes past a defenseman and closes in on the goal. The goalie, still recovering from the previous save, braces himself for the incoming onslaught.

With a lightning-quick maneuver, Zane executes a breathtaking spin-o-rama, fooling the goalie and depositing the puck into the back of the net.

Showing off for Emma, I see.

We erupt into thunderous cheers, and the arena shakes with the excitement of the spectacular play. The Battle Hawks mob Zane in celebration, and we roar our approval for the unforgettable hockey moment that unfolded before our eyes.

As the minutes tick away, Zane emerges as the standout player of the match. His ability to read the game, combined with lightning-fast agility, makes him a formidable force on the ice. The crowd erupts in cheers as Zane scores goal after goal, the puck seemingly drawn to his stick with a magnetic pull.

I glance at Emma, her eyes fixed on the game below. The intensity of the match reflects in her gaze, a shared appreciation for the skill and artistry that defines the sport.

She's loving this, even if she won't admit it.

The Tigers, despite their valiant efforts, struggle to keep up with the relentless pace set by Zane and his teammates. The Willow Creek fans, a sea of red and black jerseys and passionate faces, become a living testament to the unwavering support that defines the bond between a team and its community.

As the final minutes of the game approach, the score line tilts heavily in favor of Willow Creek. Zane, having secured the majority of the goals, stands out as the undisputed star of the match. The crowd"s cheers reach a crescendo, a symphony of victory that reverberates through the rink.

The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, and the Battle Hawks gather at center ice for a triumphant celebration. Zane, the man of the hour, is surrounded by his teammates, their jubilant cheers echoing through the rink.

I turn to Emma, a smile playing on my lips. "What did you think of the game?"

She blows out a breath and looks at me with a mock glare. "I enjoyed it. I forgot how much I love watching. I've always loved watching how graceful Zane is out there too."

"He"s one of the best, no doubt. The team played exceptionally well tonight."

"They did. Thank you for bringing me. It seems like the entire town is here."

"They are. The whole town shuts down for games."

"I did notice the restaurant closed early."

My car is waiting at a back door for us and we sneak away and inside.

"They'll open back up in a bit for the after-game crowd. They'd be leaving money on the table if they didn't."

"Makes sense. I had a good time."

"I'm glad. Why don't you come to my place?"

"No thanks. I'm exhausted."

"Okay."

We're in front of her place, she gets out of the car and leaves without so much as a goodbye.

What's going on?

***

The next day passes with a sense of ambiguity. Texts go unanswered and attempts to set up another date are met with vague responses. It"s as if a curtain has fallen between us, shrouding the connection we once shared. I can"t help but wonder what went wrong.

Later that night, as I return home from work, the mystery deepens. The soft glow of streetlights illuminates the quiet neighborhood, casting a gentle light on the parked cars behind the restaurant. I notice Emma standing outside, engaged in conversation with a guy next to her sleek convertible.

A surge of curiosity and a twinge of unease grip me as I approach the scene. The guy is tall, with dark hair and a casual demeanor. He seems familiar, but I can"t quite place him. Is he a friend, a neighbor, or perhaps someone from her past? My mind races with possibilities, and a pang of uncertainty settles in the pit of my stomach.

She's not answering my texts or phone calls, I should find out why.

I'm not jealous.

As I draw closer, Emma notices my approach. Her eyes meet mine, and a fleeting expression of surprise crosses her face. She quickly recovers, offering a warm smile, but there"s an undeniable tension in the air. The guy turns to me, a casual nod of acknowledgment, and I can"t shake the feeling that there"s more to the story than meets the eye.

"Hey, Drake," Emma greets me, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness. "This is Kade Jefferies. My car wouldn't start, and he happened to be passing by and rescued me, the damsel in distress."

Kade extends a hand in greeting, his smile genuine but guarded. "Just a knight on a white horse."

I shake his hand. He seems composed, but there"s an undercurrent of something that raises my suspicions.

"Kade used to play hockey too, small world, right?"

"Small world," I answer.

"I should get going," Kade says as he looks down at his watch. "I have dinner plans."

"Don't rush off on my account."

"No, I'd love to talk hockey with you, but I have a dinner date waiting for me inside. She probably thinks I stood her up." He turns to look at Emma. "I have your phone number so I'll check in to see how the battery is doing."

"Thanks again, Kade. You're a lifesaver."

She hugs him a little longer than necessary. He starts walking away. I grab her in a passionate kiss.

She pulls away and slaps me across the face.

"What in the hell? Why would you…?"

I stare back at her, surprised she slapped me but even more surprised by the hunger in her eyes. She pulls me back into a hungry kiss.

She"s molding herself to me, as we make out in the parking lot like two teenagers.

She pulls away, reaches down, and takes my hand in hers before she tugs me toward the stairs.

As she walks ahead of me, her perfect butt is right in my face. My hand goes up to squeeze it as she fumbles to unlock the door.

My hand slides forward as she drops the key. As she bends forward, my hand goes forward on her leggings. My fingers slide toward her center, I can feel the heat and the wetness through her tights.

"Mmmm," I moan in unison with her.

She picks up the key and finally gets the door unlocked as my fingers play on the outside of her pants. She"s breathing heavily as she bursts through the door.

She instantly spins around, grabs me by the collar, and pulls me in after her.

Once inside, she pins me against the wall, her lips crushing feverishly against mine. Her tongue slides into my mouth, exploring and tasting, as we both moan in passion.

Her hand slips up my shirt, exploring my warm, sweaty skin. I groan as her fingers graze my nipple, causing it to harden. She pulls away for a moment, her eyes locked onto mine with a lustful gaze.

"I want you so bad," she whispers before attacking my lips again.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer, our bodies pressed tightly together. My own hands slide down her back and grab onto her ass, squeezing it just as she had done before.

She gasps, her body trembling as I continue to kiss her. Our breaths mingle, hot and heavy, as we lose ourselves in the moment.

I sink my fingers into the waistband of her pants and slide them off her, she steps out of them while trying to pull my shirt off me at the same time. I pull her shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

She reaches down and starts unzipping my pants.

"Drake," she breathes unevenly. "I want your face buried in my pussy, now."

"With pleasure."

I drop to my knees and do as she asks. I gently push her thighs apart, taking in the sight of her glistening femininity. Her arousal is evident, and I am eager to taste her. I breathe in deeply, inhaling the scent of her passion. My tongue darts out, teasing her folds as she lets out a soft moan.

"You taste so good."

"You feel so good, please don't stop."

I probe her with the tip of my tongue, delving into her wetness as she arches her back, pushing her pelvis forward. She tastes intoxicating and alluring. I tease her with a gentle kiss, her muscles tensing as I lightly nibble on her skin.

My hands roam her body, exploring every curve and contour, making her shiver under my touch.

As I lick and suck, she moans loudly, her body bucking beneath me. I can feel her trembling from head to toe.

"Drake, that's so fucking amazing."

Her hands are in my hair, guiding my movements, urging me to be more urgent, more intense.

"Right there, harder. Don't move away from there, please."

I respond to her cues, delving deeper, tasting every last drop of her.

She cries out my name, her pleasure reaching a crescendo, her body shaking with the force of her climax. I feel her muscles clench around my mouth, her juices flowing onto my tongue. I lap them up eagerly, savoring her taste as she basks in the afterglow of her orgasm.

Finally, she pulls me up, her lips locked onto mine, her breath hitching as I gently bite her lip. She"s still panting, her body flushed and wet.

"I love tasting myself on your tongue."

"That's the hottest thing I've ever heard you say."

I slide my hands under her butt and lift her up, she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck.

I guide myself to her, teasing her with the tip at first.

"Yes, Drake, yes."

"You're so hot."

"Do you feel how wet you made me?"

"It's like a slip and slide," I breathe as I chuckle against her skin before I kiss her neck.

She"s so wet, so hot, and my cock tightens with the need to slam inside of her. I slide inside of her, filling her. I stop and inhale, feeling how she clenches on my shaft.

"Your cock feels so good. It goes right to my G-spot every time."

She closes her eyes and throws her head back; I lean forward and kiss her neck then take her nipple in my mouth.

She sucks in a breath as I begin thrusting slowly inside her. She bucks against me, grinding down.

"Harder," she moans, her voice conflicting between wanting more and fear of the pleasure that"s about to consume her.

My hips buck faster, my thrusts gaining speed, my body in a frenzy as I lose myself inside her.

She gasps for air, her back arched, her hips thrusting to meet my every movement. I can feel her body tightening, her muscles pulsating, her orgasm nearing.

"Harder, please harder. I'm so close."

However, I"m not done yet.

I pull out and spin her around, pushing her against the wall. I want to see every expression, every emotion that plays over her face as I take her.

"No, don't stop," she pleads. "Oh."

She looks back at me, her eyes wide with desire and fear, her breath heavy. I take her hair in my hand.

"Trust me," I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear.

She nods. This time, I go deeper, hitting her harder, my hips slamming into her. Her head falls back, her eyes shut tight, and she lets out a wild cry. I can feel her body shaking, her muscles tensing with each thrust.

"Fuck, yes. I can't … this is so … oh my God, Drake!"

My desire is building, the pleasure overwhelming me. I can"t hold back any longer.

I reach around her waist, my fingers finding her clit. I massage it, causing her to cry out in pleasure.

"Shit, yessssss. That's it. Right there. Please."

Her orgasm crashes over her, her body shaking harder as waves of pleasure wash over her. I keep thrusting, my orgasm building.

"That's it. Give it to me, baby."

Finally, I let go, my hips jerking forward, my cock pulsing inside her. We both cry out in pleasure, our bodies shaking in the aftermath of the intense climax.

As I catch my breath, I hold her close, our bodies panting and sweaty. We stand there for a moment, wrapped in each other"s arms.

"Let"s go to the bedroom," she breathes in my ear. "I"m not done with you."

She saunters away and goes into a room down the hall, I follow like a puppy dog.

She turns around and smiles flirtatiously back at me before she starts to climb into the bed. I grab her into a hungry kiss.

Yeah, I"m ready to go again. She makes me insatiable.

She turns and pushes me down on the bed, she follows but climbs up as she"s kissing my thighs, and then her mouth envelops my shaft.

My hips buck involuntarily, my body responding to the sensation of her warm mouth on me. She takes me in deeper, her lips gliding down my shaft, her tongue swirling around the head.

"Good girl, that feels amazing," I breathe.

She moans in response, the sound vibrating throughout me.

"Get it wet and slippery, cup my balls." She does exactly as I say. "Ohhh, yess, baby."

I grip the sheets, my grip tightening as she continues her oral assault. Her hand cups my balls, gently massaging them, sending waves of ecstasy through me.

"Look at me."

Her eyes lock onto mine, her gaze filled with hunger and desire. I can"t hold back any longer, and with a groan, I come, filling her mouth. She swallows every drop, savoring my taste, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Don't let any of it spill out."

Once I"m spent, she crawls up to me, her body glistening with sweat. She kisses me deeply, her tongue probing my mouth.

"I love the way you taste," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear.

I flip her over, my hunger for her still raging. I kiss her neck, her collarbone, and her shoulders, and then take one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking and biting gently.

She moans softly, arching her back, her hands clutching at my hair.

"It seems like we have something in common then," I tell her. "Because I love the way you taste, too."

"Stay with me tonight?"

"I wasn"t planning on leaving. I think you should move into my house while we"re engaged."

"I don"t know how I feel about that," she murmurs. "I"ve done the live-in thing, I"m not good at it."

"There"s a difference between living with the wrong person and living with the right person."

"Are you suggesting that you"re the right person?" she asks with a laugh.

"Absolutely."

"If you"re the right person, why did you ghost me after we slept together?"

"Ghost you?" I laugh. "You ghosted me."

"No, I waited for an hour at the house for you stupidly after you took off that morning. I didn"t have your phone number to text you. I wasn"t about to ask Chasity for it either, especially not if I was going to have to admit that I was just another notch on your bedpost."

"I had an early class. I left a note for you on the refrigerator with my phone number, telling you I"d be back at nine-thirty with coffee."

"Why would I look at the refrigerator?"

"I don"t know, I guess I didn"t think about the logistics."

"I thought you ghosted me."

"And I thought you ghosted me."

"Why didn't you reach out to me?" she asks softly.

"Honestly? Our encounter was intense for me. I'd never felt feelings like that before and my parents were going through a divorce at the same time. It made me insecure in a way. I thought my parents were the perfect couple and if they couldn't make it work what made me think I could with you. I didn't want to hurt you and at the time that seemed like the only possible outcome."

"Your parents weren't the perfect couple though. They fought so much and your dad …"

"Cheated on my mom repeatedly? I know. I mean, I didn't know at the time, but Chas and I had a heart-to-heart about why she hated our dad so much. I was clueless."

"Yeah, as we got older that's when Chas and I realized what was happening. That and Dana Lesenbone told Chas they were going to be sisters," she says softly.

"She never told me that."

"Imagine being sixteen at a pool party scoping out all the hot guys only to find out from the host of the party that your dad is screwing her mom," Emma adds.

"Oof."

"It was brutal. I pretended to be sick so we could leave immediately. Chas cried for hours."

"I can't believe she never told me that."

"Probably repressed it. It didn't help that Dana continued to try and be her bestie until I snapped and told her that her mom was a homewrecker. Sadly, Dana thought your parents were already divorced," she shrugs and shakes her head.

"It's wild how our parents can fuck us up with their actions and not even realize what they're doing at the time."

"Preach."

The room falls silent as the two of us roll the words around in our heads. The realization of how our actions can cause a ripple effect that we know nothing about at the time, and may never know it hit us hard. Our parents had both done things in their lives that had permanently affected the both of us, never realizing or caring how their actions could harm us in the long run.

"Why didn't you reach out to me? You could have contacted me on social media?" I ask her, trying to change the subject.

"I was so insecure. I didn't … I didn't think you wanted more than sex and I knew that I did. Maybe I also thought that because of the way my father was I couldn't give you what you deserved," she answers.

"Well, I"m glad we cleared that up," I laugh out loud. "I'm glad we both know those things aren't true now."

I pull her into me and hug her tightly. I place a soft kiss on the top of her head.

"I feel stupid."

"It just wasn"t the right time. Now it is."