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CHAPTER

THIRTY

Fable

Since I refuse to drink the trash the Belles do, I go to get my own beer, while not missing everyone’s eyes on me. Jett’s jersey is entirely too big on me, but I love it just the same. It goes almost to my knees while also covering my hands, but none of that matters when the number five and Jett’s name adorn my back. It’s like I’m wearing a blanket, and I feel so safe under the scrutiny of the town. I may be imagining it, but I feel like more people are smiling at me, tipping their chins at me, and being…welcoming. It’s odd since it hasn’t been like that since I got back—not that I’ve really put myself out there—but it fills me with a sense of pride that the town loves Jett so much that they accept me as his.

Mine.

God, when he says that, I swear my brain turns to mush.

Jett Cook is… Man, he’s just everything.

I’m smiling to myself when a hand brushes along my back right over Jett’s number. I cut my gaze to my left, where a person is standing, and I have to look even farther up to meet the dark-brown eyes of a rather stunning man. His hair is dark, a murky brown, and he has sharp angles to his face. He’s clean-shaven, his hair neatly trimmed along the sides of his head but wild at the top. He’s tall, and while he has muscles, he’s lean. He wears a dark-green and brown-trimmed Thirsty Pine Frosted Mugs jersey with a C on his chest. It’s crazy, but he almost reminds me of Jett. They share a lot of the same features—the eyes, the nose, the jaw. He’s handsome—not as gorgeous as Jett, but still very handsome.

“Hey there.”

His voice is low, throaty, like a smoker. I smile politely. “Hey.”

“I’m Jasper,” he tells me, his eyes looking me over appreciatively. “I figured you needed my name since I know yours.”

I smirk. “You know my name?”

“Everyone knows the ice princess, but I’m trying to figure out why you’re wearing that shitty jersey when you should be in mine.”

I’m taken aback by how bold he is, but he just grins, seeming pretty pleased with himself. Before I can even come up with a response, Jett’s voice booms through the rink. “Butler, don’t make me kick you out of my rink and make it so you can’t play.”

I look over at where Jett is stalking toward me, fury and possessiveness in his gaze.

God, he makes me hot.

As he wraps his arm around me, shooting daggers at Jasper, Liam yells, “Hey, you said you can’t kick people out of the league!”

With his eyes only on Jasper, Jett seethes, “I can when some bastard is flirting with my woman.”

Liam crosses his arms in frustration. “But it’s okay for some dude to flirt with my daughter?”

Chelsea gasps beside her father. “You were trying to get Jackson kicked from the league?”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Liam tells her, not looking the least bit regretful.

“Dad!” she complains, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

I giggle as I look between Jett and Jasper. They’re only staring at each other, glaring. “Don’t make me kick your ass,” Jett warns.

Jasper sends him a menacing grin. “Will you kick your own self from the league for fighting?”

Jett’s jaw goes taut as he leans in. “For her, I will. Stay the fuck away, you get?”

Jasper looks at me. “Want me to stay away, Fable?”

Jett growls beside me, and I pat his chest, shaking my head at his caveman antics. “I am very much in a relationship with this overpossessive lug of sexy man, so if you want more than cordiality, then yes, stay away.”

Jasper sighs deeply. “Your loss.”

“Doubtful,” I throw back, and he only laughs.

Jett stands a little taller before his hand tightens on my waist. His gloved hand holds his stick, while his other glove is tucked up under his armpit. He pulls me closer with his free hand, and when I look up at him, he’s still glaring at Jasper.

With a look only for Jett, he says, “Try not to get kicked out of the league, Cook.”

“Same goes for you, Butler.”

Jasper only laughs, so carefree, as he heads onto the ice. I don’t miss the way the Belles all glare at him. That surprises me because their looks are full of malice, not their usual playful glares. I turn in Jett’s arms just as he looks down at me, and I press my hands to his chest. I send him a look that he totally ignores. “What?” he asks.

“That was a bit over the top, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”

I reach up, cupping his cheek. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

His furrowed brow relaxes as he leans down, kissing my nose. “I spent so long without you. I don’t want to chance losing you again.”

My heart skips a beat as I gaze into his hopeful eyes. His words hit me straight in the soul, and once more, I want to reassure him. “Not going to happen.”

He kisses me, desperately and deeply. Our tongues play, and even with the catcalls and teasing, neither of us pulls away. His lips are everything I need, and I don’t care one bit about who sees us. I want them to; I want them to know that Jett Cook wants me.

When he pulls away, he kisses my top lip then my nose. I smile as I lean into his soft lips, sliding my hands up his chest to his neck. We lock eyes, and I’m rewarded with such a devilish smirk, my pussy clenches. “Don’t fight him.”

Jett glares, though there is no anger in his glare. “Why not? I should knock his ass out.”

I snort. “Because I’d have to kick you out for the season and fine you.”

He gathers me closer, eyeing me. “You’d do that?”

“You know I would. I need a new jumbotron in my rink.”

He rolls his eyes, but as I wanted, he laughs softly. “You drive me mad, Fable Winthrop.”

Jett’s lips drop to mine once more, and I fall into his kiss. I love how everything just shuts off when his lips are on mine. How nothing in this world matters but my heart beating with his.

“Jett! Get on the ice and warm up! I refuse to lose the Cup because you’d rather make out with your girl!” Bea yells, at which everyone’s catcalls and teasing become a bit louder.

I’m pretty sure someone is singing, “Jett and Fable, kissing in the rink,” but all I feel are his lips and his hand holding me ever so close. We both grin at the same time, and when I open my eyes, he’s looking at me so reverently, my heart trips over itself.

“Come out with me tonight,” he says as he presses his forehead to mine. “We’re going to celebrate our win at the Thirsty Pine.”

I snort. “One, you haven’t won yet?—”

“We’re going to win, and then I’ll not only rub it in Butler’s face that we won, but that I got the best girl that the world has to offer.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Jett flashes me a wide grin. “When it comes to you, yeah,” he agrees, kissing my lips. “Will you come?”

“If you win.” I don’t doubt him in the slightest, but I have to give him a hard time.

He winks. “We will.”

“Then I’ll be your date.”

Jett threads our fingers together, bringing my wrist to his lips. “You’re my forever date.”

He kisses my wrist before heading toward the ice. He looks over his shoulder, giving me butterflies as he winks.

And yeah, forever with Jett Cook is sounding pretty damn good.

The Belles won, barely.

The game was super tight at one a piece, and boy was the play rough. Lots of checking and cheap shots. Jett went to the box twice, and Jasper went three times, the two gunning for each other. There were a few times there that I was convinced Jett was going to drop his gloves. I was already dreading hearing Bea’s mouth when I’d have to suspend him and fine him. Instead, he scored the winning goal in overtime.

I screamed like he’d scored the winning goal in the Stanley Cup Finals.

We stand together at a high-top in the middle of the crowded Thirsty Pine that’s right outside of town. I’ve never been here before, and while it’s not my scene, I’m enjoying myself. The Thirsty Pine is a rustic-looking place, with heads of different forest animals on the walls. I’m sure my mother would be horrified by this place, which is probably why I’m enjoying myself. A wall is dedicated to the Thirsty Pine Frosty Mugs team, with broken sticks and photos of the times they won the Cup. There are pool tables, dart boards, and a dance floor that is full of people line dancing. It’s loud and super overstimulating, but with Jett’s body against mine, I feel calm.

“Fable, have I told you lately how amazing you are?” Liam asks, waggling his brows at me.

Like I think Liam wanted, Jett glares. “She knows, because her man tells her.”

I roll my eyes at him while Liam completely ignores him. “No, I’m not kidding. You are killing it with all that you’re doing with the Thistle. You’re helping our boy here meet his goals, and for that, you’re amazing.”

Pride swells in my chest. “That means a lot. I think it’s because we work well together.”

“We do,” Jett agrees, kissing my temple. “And you are amazing.”

I giggle to myself as Dean leans on the table. “Next, I need the south rink redone.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I gush. “That’s my goal for next summer, I want to see how much revenue we can bring in for travel season, and if things go the way we want, then we should be able to do a huge overhaul.”

Dean holds up his hand for a high five, and I give it willingly. Despite the glare that Jett flashes us. Liam laughs as he pulls Dean away from the table. “We’ll get the next round.”

Jett’s fingers knead into my hip, and I take a pull of my drink. As I swallow, he brings his lips to my ear. “Do you know how hot it makes me when you talk about our rink?”

My face flushes as I turn my head so that our eyes meet. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes searching mine. I cup his jaw, running my thumb through the coarse hair. “You really are doing amazing things, Fable.”

“ We’re doing them,” I correct, and he sighs.

“Yeah, since I stopped being an idiot and worked with you.”

I grin. “True. Just like I said.”

“You did,” he tells me, brushing his lips against my cheek.

He holds me to him as we watch everyone line dance and have a blast. I’m happy where I am, and by how closely Jett holds me, I think he may feel the same. These three weeks have been more than I ever could have imagined. We’ve spent so much time together.

I usually don’t find myself in those kinds of situations. I usually just do me and the guy I’m dating does him, but with Jett, I want all his time and attention. I love skating with him, arguing with him about the budget, and then working together to bring more revenue to the Thistle. We take turns cooking for each other, and my favorite part of the day is when we go to Noelle’s for breakfast. Not only do I get to chitchat with Noelle, but it’s the start I need to every morning.

Coffee, a pastry, and Jett’s smile.

We are a force to be reckoned with on the ice, and I’m blown away by how well our program is coming together. But my favorite place is in bed with him.

I have discovered so many things about myself. What I like and what I like to do to him. When he said that my pleasure is his, I didn’t fully understand, but I’ve learned that his is mine. I want it so badly, and when I take him over the edge, I feel powerful. Jett plays my body like a puck, and I love being at his mercy. Despite his rough exterior, he is so tender, gentle, and wants my desire like it’s his next breath. His check-ins make me feel treasured, not that I really need them. I’m fully focused on him the moment he touches me. He makes me feel more alive than skating ever has, and I’ve never been happier.

I turn to look up at him, surprised that he is looking down at me, his brows pulled in tight. “You’re thinking mighty hard.”

I smile bashfully. It’s insane how in sync we are. “I need to tell you something.”

Alarm fills his features as he presses his lips together. “Okay?”

I bite my lip as I turn toward him so that my chest presses to his. “You know my therapist, Alissa?” His eyes widen a bit before he nods, so I continue. “I had an impromptu session with her and told her all about you.” Apprehension moves across his face, and I smile to try to ease it a bit. “You see, I haven’t been able to talk about you for the last couple months because I’ve been so confused over how I felt and the need I had for you. I was worried she’d tell me it wasn’t real, that I was masking or trying to be what you want. And I’m not,” I add quickly, when he presses his lips together harder. “I am myself with you, and you still want me.”

“I do,” he promises, hooking his finger with mine.

“I know,” I say softly. “And after these last few weeks, I just knew it was true, so I told her about us. I questioned how I could feel all this when I’m apparently asexual.” When he sets me with a glare because he refuses to accept labels, I squeeze his finger. “I know you hate my labels, but I do have some.”

“Not to me.”

My shoulders fall, in awe of him, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I swallow past the ball of emotion in my throat as I gaze up at him. This morning, he saw me pull out all my meds and take them. I was sure I would hear how I don’t need them, but he didn’t do that. He said that while he hates the labels people put on me, if the meds make me the best version of myself, who I want to be, then he supports them. He supports me. My heart still swells every time I think of his affirming words. He leaves me breathless at every turn, and I hope I make him feel how important he is to me.

On a sigh, I say, “She was so happy for me and said that she noticed a shift in my demeanor, that I seemed so much happier. I told her it was you.” He pulls me in, bringing our joined fingers behind his back so that our chests touch. “I asked how I can be asexual and be able to feel all these things I do. She told me that she suspects she was wrong, that more than likely I was demisexual, which means that I only feel intense intimacy with someone when I have a soul-deep bond with them.”

I watch as the words register in his brain, and the sight is otherworldly. His eyes widen, flaring with passion. When he looks at me like this, it’s hard not to cover his body with mine and try to become one with him. “So, you’re saying you have a soul-deep bond with me?”

I nod slowly, my eyes never leaving his. “I think I always have.”

He moves his hand from my waist to my cheek, cupping it so gently as his gaze burns into mine. “I know I have, Fable. And while I hate labels, I’m okay with this one.”

“You are?”

“I am. I…” He pauses, closing his eyes, and I hate the torment on his face.

“Jett?” I ask, and he opens his eyes. There is something in his expression that I can’t identify. It’s almost as if he wants to say something, but he’s holding back.

Why would he hold back?

“What is it?”

He shakes his head, the look gone as he says, “Thank you for telling her about me.”

I squeeze his fingers, leaning into him. “I love talking about you.”

Jett’s eyes dance with mine before he sends me a smirk. “There is something I’ve always wanted to do with you.”

My lip quirks. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says roughly, moving his lips so they’re right over mine, our gazes locking. “I want to take you out to my truck, get you in the back seat, and make you scream.”

Heat rushes right between my legs, but I ignore it to feign shock. “I am a lady. I don’t get in the back seat with boys.”

He scoffs, grinning from ear to ear. “A lady, yes, but we both know you want to get in the back seat with your man.”

I fight back the grin until I can’t hold it off anymore. When I flash all my teeth at him, knowing my eyes are bright and wide for him, I lean in to give him a chaste kiss. Then I whisper, “I’m no lady when I get in bed with you.”

He chuckles roughly against my lips, grabbing ahold of my ass. “No, but you’re always my princess.”