Chapter 37

Coleson

The next twelve hours are a whirlwind.

I catch the first flight to Nashville, and once there, it’s balls to the wall. While my excitement at being called up is abundant, my fear of how I will be treated outweighs it. I keep my wife’s words in my head: “This is your moment. Enjoy it, ignore the negative, and focus solely on the positive. You made it. I’m proud of you.” The woman is a goddamn angel.

I repeat her words over and over as I go through the motions of getting my Nashville Assassins gear with my number 71 on everything. I sounded like a kid on Christmas when I asked if I got to keep it all. They said I did, and yeah, I’m excited. Even sent my wife a picture, but unlike how she usually reacts, she didn’t reply or even read it.

Weird.

I met the team at breakfast, then we hit the ice, and much to my surprise, no one brought up my past off-ice actions. All everyone did was welcome me and then express how excited they were to play with me. It’s a little shocking to me since my wife’s sisters are engaged to two of the guys on the Assassins, Ciaran Carter and Dimitri Titov. I fully expected them to tell everyone my faults, but I don’t think they did. Instead, my future brothers-in-law—whenever they decide to tie the knot—welcomed me with open arms. And while I still feel like I’m going to puke at every turn, I don’t feel like I’m about to shatter from every single inch of me being wound tight.

After press conference after press conference, I feel like an idiot. Everyone asks, “How’s it feel?” and I don’t think my answer is good enough.

“Like it’s all a dream.” The undrafted, skate-on manwhore has been called up to the big leagues. To the greatest team ever, the Nashville Assassins. What in the ever-loving hell? Is this real? It is absolutely insane. But none of that is what’s playing on my mind. It’s the fact that my wife hasn’t texted or called me back since we hung up the night before. At all. Radio silence.

I miss her.

And I’m scared.

Is she taking my call-up to mean it’s over between us? That doesn’t feel right, though. Not only did I tell her a year and it’s only been a couple months, but when I got the call, she was screaming and dancing with me. She told me she loved me. But of course, my dumbass self didn’t say it back. I can’t. As much as I want to stay married to her and make this a real marriage, I know deep in my soul she deserves better.

Things may be going well today, but it’s only a temporary assignment. The coach already said that when their center is off concussion watch, I’ll be sent back down. As much as it sucks, I knew I wouldn’t have a forever spot—not yet, at least. And no matter how much I want one, I don’t wish for someone to lose their season over a concussion. Or any injury. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Soon, I’ll be back with the Bears, hated and ridiculed, and I don’t know if that’ll ever change. Maybe Eliza is right. Maybe I should look into being traded. But would she go with me? Should I ask that of her? I feel as if doing so would mean I’m running from the bed I’ve made. I should just stay and see what happens, but the thought of a fresh start is appealing.

Especially if I can convince Eliza to go with me.

Not that I deserve that.

When a knock sounds at the hotel room door, I lean back from the sink where I’m shaving to glance at it. I don’t know who it could be. I glance down at my phone to check the time, and yeah, no clue who would be knocking on my door. I’m not due back to the rink until three. I place my razor down before making sure my towel is tight at my waist. I put my hand to the door and I glance in the peephole, but something is blocking it. Something purple. Confused, I pull on the door handle, and on my next heartbeat, the muscle in my chest promptly explodes.

In front of me stands my wife. Grinning brightly up at me. She wears a purple-and-black home Assassins jersey and black leggings, with her hair up in a high ponytail. I don’t take in her shoes or even her makeup because in one hand is a bunch of balloons reading congratulations, and in the other is a basket of all my favorite treats. But the best part? The huge purple bow on her head.

“Surprise!” she gushes and does a little wiggle.

Oh, heart be still. Gruffly, because this girl has not been answering my calls or texts, I bite out, “Wife.”

She beams, ignoring my grumpy tone. “Husband! Surprise!”

Who am I kidding? I can’t resist this woman. I can’t help but smile before I gather her up in my arms and kiss her hard on the mouth. She molds into my body, pressing her chest to mine as I devour her sweet lips. Fuck, I’ve missed them. I’ve missed her, and feeling her in my arms is better than anything I could ever describe. When I pull back for air, I set her with a look. “Is your phone broken?”

She scoffs, pushing past me as I shut the door. “No, it’s a surprise. I couldn’t answer and lie, saying I wasn’t driving. You’d know I was coming. Which is why it’s a surprise!”

“If you say surprise one more time…” I warn as I follow her through the hotel room. She tsks at my messiness, but I ignore her, wrapping my arms around her from behind. “I will make your sweet ass red with my handprints.”

She wiggles said ass into my groin. “Promise?”

I bite the spot where her neck and shoulder meet. “Spicy,” I mutter at her quick intake of breath. I kiss the spot. “I missed you.”

After setting everything down, she turns in my arms, and I notice she has a cup in her hand. She boops my nose. “I missed you more. Look, I even brought you a pregame espresso that I made. It’s called the ‘Coleson Is Playing for the Nashville Assassins, and I’m so Proud.’”

I grin. “Did that take up the whole specials board?”

She nods happily. “Sure did. And everyone is so impressed!”

I don’t argue because I don’t care. I only care that she’s here in my jersey—well, my Assassins jersey. God, she’s so pretty. I cup her face. “I can’t believe you came.”

She gives me a look. “Um, there is nowhere else I want to be.” She pats my stomach and then sighs. “Can you put some clothes on?”

I grin and fall even more for her. “Can’t handle my nudity?”

“Nope, and I’m not ashamed to admit it,” she teases with a wink before she starts picking up my trash. I make the mistake of taking a long pull of my drink and can’t stop her in time. With a look, she mutters, “You just checked in. How is this place already a mess?”

I chuckle at her as she moves around, and I go to the microwave to warm up my ice-cold espresso. I know if I try to stop her, she’ll snap at me. When she groans, I grimace because I know she’s seen my suitcase. “Coleson, what is the point of me buying you these packing cubes if you don’t use them!”

“Hey, Eliza,” I say, wanting to distract her. Her eyes meet mine, and I smile. “You’re gorgeous in my jersey.”

Her lips quirk. “Stop giving me those eyes before I end up on my knees in front of you and the jersey my sister had made for me gets messy.”

I smirk, leaning against the desk and drinking her in. It’s been a long six days, and I want her desperately, but I have rules for game days. She knows them and respects them like the good girl she is. I can’t help but tease her, though. “Like you’d let drops fall on the jersey.”

She shrugs, thinking that over. “True. I am good at taking all of you.”

My cock roars to life, and I groan as heat settles in my belly. “You’re evil.”

She isn’t the least bit sorry, just grinning at me as she sorts through my suitcase. “Go put some clothes on.”

“You don’t have to?—”

She throws me a shirt and some athletic shorts. “Go.”

The pressure I hadn’t realized was weighing me down is gone, and all I feel is happiness as I head to the bathroom to finish shaving and to get dressed. I hear her moving around, and when she comes into the bathroom, I’m putting on lotion.

She wraps her arms around my middle and leans into my side. I meet her gaze in the bathroom mirror. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

“Hey, handsome.” We beam at each other, and I lean down to kiss the top of her head. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,” I admit. “Scared that I’ll fuck up. But I know when I hit the ice and skate off some of the nerves, I’ll be okay.”

She pats my stomach. “You’re going to do great.”

I kiss her again. “Truly, thank you for being here for me.”

“Truly,” she repeats. “There is nowhere else I want to be.”

I tip her jaw up, meeting her gaze, and fuck, I want to tell her those three words. I want to scream them at her, beg her never to leave me, and not care one bit that I’ve become my father. Totally obsessed with a woman who could ruin me. I run my thumb along her bottom lip and whisper, “How did I get so lucky to find you?”

Her eyes bore into mine. “You didn’t let the bears eat me.”

My face breaks into a grin as I lean in, pressing my nose to hers. “Nope, but I’ll be eating every single inch of you tonight.”

She kisses my top lip. “Not if I eat you first.”

I hiss with need for her, but she distracts me by taking the lotion bottle from me. She proceeds to do my shoulders, my back, my waist, and thighs, careful not to touch my cock—though, we both want it desperately.

When her eyes meet mine in the mirror, I lick my lips, and she shakes her head. “Are you trying to make this hard?”

I snort. “Wife, I’ve been hard since the moment I saw that bow on your head.”

She giggles as she trails kisses along my ribs where I am bruised from the puck. “Will you be okay playing tonight?”

I nod. “I’m fine.”

She runs her fingers along the tender skin and then kisses it once more. “Okay. I can’t wait. I’m sitting up in a box with Louisa and Austen. I think even some of the Adler family will be up there, so I’ll put in a good word.”

At the mention of the Adler family, basically hockey royalty in Nashville, my heart seizes in my chest. I want to impress everyone, but it’s crazy how impressing them isn’t as high on my priority list as impressing my wife. I’ll deal with that thought later. Instead, I wrap my arms around my wife and kiss her fully on the lips. She tangles her fingers in the hair along the back of my neck before we both pull away, panting. “Wanna take a nap?”

She nods. “Sounds great.”

“Let me get dressed,” I tell her, but before either of us can leave the bathroom, there is another knock at the door. She gives me a confused look, and I shrug. I have my shorts on, so I forgo the shirt, pulling the door open. On the other side, in a dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, is a stunningly beautiful blonde with bright-red lips and heels that make her almost eye level with me. Before I met my tiny wife, the minx in front of me would have been my jam, but now, I only want Eliza. Again, another thought to worry about later.

I furrow my brows. “Can I help you?”

“I told you I’d be up around now.”

My brow furrow deepens. “Huh?”

She gives me a look. “You hired me? I’m your entertainment for the afternoon.”

I blink, ignoring how she is jutting out her chest or how seductively she’s looking at me. Old Coleson wouldn’t think twice about inviting her in, but I don’t want her. Not even to tape my stick. As she leans into the doorframe, I look down at her. And then do something I never thought I’d do in a situation like this.

I laugh.