Page 100 of Hockey Boy
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m not sure why I let my mother get to me like that.”
The doorbell rings, startling me so badly I bobble the phone. “Oh,” I say as I bring it to my ear again. “Someone’s at the door. I hope it’s Millie. I could really use one of her wine breaks right about now.”
Aiden chuckles. “Go on, answer it. You can call me back.”
Even as I walk to the door, I don’t want to hang up. But that’s precisely why I should. Relying on my friends is one thing. Needing Aiden to make me feel whole is another.
“All right. Good luck tomorrow,” I say wistfully.
When I pull the phone away from my face, I realize that Aiden’s already gone. My stomach sinks. That kind of stings. The door is barely cracked when I catch a glimpse of the pink peonies. I pull it open wider and discover the sweetest surprise: Aiden Langfield, wearing a smile. It only gets better as I take him in. He’s holding my favorite flowers and a bottle of wine.
“What are you—” I shake my head and blink back tears. “I thought you were—” Swallowing, I try to catch my bearings. “What are you doing here?”
He holds his arms open, the bouquet in one hand and the bottle in the other. “My girl said she needed a hug.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in—wait, where are you supposed to be?”
“Cincinnati.”
“Aiden.”
“C’mere, Lex. I only have an hour before I have to get back to the plane if I want to make it to the hotel before curfew.”
I throw myself into his arms, forgetting every hesitation I’ve been stewing over. Fuck it. I’m so far gone for this man already. He got on a plane and flew home so he could give me a hug. He brought my favorite flowers, my favorite rosé, and flew home. For me. The least I can do is say the words I typed but was too afraid to send. “I really missed you today.”
THE HOCKEY REPORT
“Good Morning, Boston. This is Colton, and I’m here with Eliza to bring you the Hockey Report.”
“I can’t believe it is finally time,” Eliza chirps.
“Yes, game one is tonight, and our boys will be facing off against New York on their ice.”
“For those of you living under a rock for the last year,” Eliza starts, “the Bolts fired their head coach, Sebastian Lukov, last year after it was discovered that he was having inappropriate relationships with the staff while still married to Zoe Langfield. So not only is this a vicious hockey rivalry, but it’s also a personal one for the Langfields. Though Lukov is no longer coaching his nephews Brooks and Aiden Langfield, he’s now coaching another. And Vincent Lukov has quite the reputation. He’s been known to get into fights with Aiden Langfield on the ice. It will be interesting to see how that all plays out tonight.”
“Let’s not forget,” Colton says, “that we’ve had quite a roster change this season. After Bolts’ captain James McGreevey announced his retirement days before training started, we have a new defenseman in Jensen Jorgenson.”
“Yeah, can’t wait to hear the nickname they come up with for him.” Eliza laughs. “I’m sure it will be a good one.”
“The choice for new captain has been announced as well. Though I think most of us assumed it would be the Leprechaun, Aiden Langfield, Coach announced that Tyler Warren would be wearing the C.”
“We’ll see if the instigator can keep his temper in check in New York tonight. All right, we’ll be back to discuss the team’s stats after a word from our sponsor, Hanson Liquors.”
The musicin the locker room is turned up loud, and the guys are getting into the zone. For years, my pregame routine has been to dance and sing and get the team pumped up.
Brooks couldn’t be more different. He slips on a pair of headphones and ignores every one of us while he goes through every play he thinks could occur on the ice.
Our lineup isn’t the only thing that is different this year.
I’m changing up my routine. Sitting against the bench, I focus on my phone, reading each word as Lennox does. The last two months have been nothing short of everything I’ve ever dreamed of, despite the normal dips in my mood. Hockey during the day, Lennox in my bed at night. Scratch that. Me in Lennox’s bed every night. Fulfilling every one of her desires. Making her come until we’re both sweaty and exhausted. Until her guard has lowered and she spills every thought that enters her brain. Every wish. Every desire.
I absorb every word. Using them as a play map to win her back. To keep her.
I study her every move, her every desire. Like right now. My girl is reading a stalker romance about two men who are obsessed with the same woman. Naturally, I’m cataloging every detail, running through ways I can makethis little fantasy play out for her. Without anyone else touching her, of course. I’m crazyabouther, not plain crazy.
“What are you doing? Did you manage to get New York’s play sheet?” Daniel’s question pulls me from my deep thoughts.
I lock my phone. The pages have stopped flipping anyway, which means Lennox has stopped reading. My guess is that she’s getting ready to head to the arena with Sara.In my jersey.