Page 22 of Defensive Zone (Chicago Thunder #3)

Chapter Twenty-One

Carter

“I can’t believe it has taken us this long,” Zach says with a light chuckle. “I thought we would have finished it by now.”

There’s still over a dozen bags of pieces left for the LEGO Millennium Falcon, all currently scattered across the coffee table in the living room. Between his migraine attacks, which are now a regular occurrence, him returning back to the ice, and us having copious amounts of sex, the build was pushed to the back of our minds.

Not that I’m complaining about the sex part because, shit, I didn’t know sex could be like that. Mind-altering, out-of-this-world sex. There’s still so much we haven’t done though, one of them being me bottoming. I didn’t know it was even a phrase until I started researching one afternoon when Zach was taking a headache-induced nap. He’s told me so many times not to worry, that we’ll take things slow, but I don’t want to take things slow. I want all of it, so I’ve been making sure I know what I need to do for when that day finally comes.

But it won’t be today, because as soon as he got back from practice this morning, we had sex in the shower, and then he decided this would be a good day to finish the set as he doesn’t have a game tonight.

The Falcon is looking awesome, though, and when we finally get to add the LED light pack I ordered online, it’s going to look epic.

“Where are you going to display it?” I ask, sorting through the pieces and placing them in small piles so it’s easy for him to pick up.

“Probably the game room. I’ve seen some people display it on coffee tables, but…” He waves his hand, motioning to the coffee table we’re currently sitting at.

I got it custom-made as a birthday gift a few years ago when I found a guy in California who made Star Wars-themed wood and resin tables. It looks fucking amazing, like the spacecrafts are flying through the galaxy.

Getting it from California to Chicago was a bit of a feat, but it was totally worth it to see the look of amazement on Zach’s face.

“Maybe we could get a display cabinet for it in the game room,” I suggest. “Like a cube, so you can see it from all angles.”

There’s a soft smile on his face when he looks up.

“What?”

Tugging the corner of his lip between his teeth, he shakes his head slightly as his smile turns bashful. “I just love how you say ‘we,’ like this is our home.”

“What do you mean?” I furrow my brows. “It is our home.”

“I mean, you say it like this is the home where we live together. That your home in Denver is just temporary.”

“Because it is.” I scoot forward on the couch. He’s wearing half of his hair up in a bun today, but a few tendrils have fallen out around his face, so I tuck them behind his ear. “My home has always been wherever you are, Zach. My house in Denver has never felt like home to me, not like this place does.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just leans forward and presses his lips to mine. I sink into the kiss, loving the feel of his stubble against my clean-shaven face and the lingering taste of the glazed donut he ate not long ago on his tongue. When he pulls away, he has this dreamy look in his eyes.

“What was that for?”

“Because I can.” He winks. “Now, let’s get this finished before you distract me even more. If we’re late for dinner with Blaine, he won’t let me hear the end of it.”

We’re meeting Blaine and Alex tonight for dinner. Zach mentioned how eager Blaine’s been for us to double-date since that night in his apartment, and this is the first night that has worked out for everyone.

Chuckling, we return our focus to the building instructions, listening to Sports Network in the background as we work.

I’m not sure how much time has passed when I hear, “What do you think? There’s one year left on his contract, but should Denver trade Carter Lockwood?”

Both of us snap our heads to the TV when the talk show host mentions my name.

“Hell no. I agree, last season was a disappointment, but Carter Lockwood is the strength and power of their defensive line. Without him, they will flop harder than they did last season. I think they would be foolish to trade him over one fluke season,” one of the presenters replies.

“But it’s a business. He’s one of the highest-paid non-quarterback players in the NFL. He definitely did not earn his eight million dollar salary this year,” another argues. “Why should they keep him?”

My cheeks burn as shame lodges thick in my throat. I’ve managed to avoid most media opinions, only going on social media to look at my private Instagram, where I don’t follow any of the sports pages. I didn’t want to see other people agreeing to what I’ve been thinking or confirming that I don’t deserve my spot on the team—or my salary. But I didn’t think they would talk about it on the TV segments, given it’s the off-season and all.

“What the fuck?” Zach growls, picking up the TV remote and changing the channel.

My voice is quiet when I say, “Well, they’re not wrong.”

His face is pinched in frustration when he turns to face me. “The fuck, Carter? Of course they’re wrong. They don’t know shit.”

I grunt, flopping back into the cushions and covering my face with my arms.

“Carter.” He tugs at my hand, trying to get me to uncover my face.

I move my arm slightly so I can look at him with one eye.

“I suppose it’s time we talk about what’s going to happen when you need to go back for training camp.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I sigh. “I told Hayden that I won’t be resigning with Denver or going anywhere except Chicago.”

Zach’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” I nod and sit back up. “I don’t want to think about it happening again.”

He opens his mouth, but I hold my hand up, silencing him.

“Not the shit with us. I mean, if something happens to you and I’m not here to take care of you. You ending up in the hospital was a real wake-up call for me in a lot of ways. It made me realize how much we’re both risking when we step out onto the ice or the field. Sure, I’ve had teammates who have been injured, but fuck, Zach, I’m just as likely to get a concussion as you are.”

Understanding seems to dawn on him.

“It would drive me crazy not being able to be with you if that happened,” he says quietly.

“Exactly. So, while football is here—” I hold my hand out, indicating a level, then put my other one a lot higher. “—you’re here on my list of priorities, and if that means Denver lets me go and I don’t get signed by Chicago for the next season, I’m okay with that. I love playing football, and I’ve had some great years, but my heart is here with you. I’ve accepted that if I need to retire earlier than I’d originally planned to be with you, then I’ll do that.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, eyeing me. A beat goes by, then another. When he finally speaks again, his voice is more determined. “And you’re sure about this?”

I nod vehemently. “Yeah, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, almost like he’s agreeing to something in his brain.

“During those six months you’re in Denver, we need to make sure we talk every day. Video call at every opportunity,” Zach insists.

“And phone sex.” I grin, wiggling my brows. “ All the phone sex.”

He laughs. “Yeah, there will be a lot of phone sex.”

Pressing a knee on the couch, I lean forward and tackle him until he’s lying beneath me. His hands slip under my sweater, caressing my back. I capture his lips in a kiss, trying to tell him without words that we’re going to be okay. That this new path I’m going to take will be worth it, and the only regret I have is not realizing what we could be sooner.

“Running late, I see.” Blaine smirks, one eyebrow arched as we walk up to the table.

It’s a good thing we planned to meet Blaine and Alex at a steak restaurant that’s just around the corner from our apartment building because we are running very late.

One look at Zach in his tight black dress pants and open charcoal shirt, and I immediately dropped to my knees. One thing led to another, and next thing we knew, we were having to tuck our shirts into our pants in the elevator, and I’m pretty sure my mouth is still a little red with stubble burn.

“Leave them alone.” Alex playfully hits Blaine’s chest with the back of his hand. “It’s not like you can talk. If I didn’t threaten to withhold sex from you if we were late, we would still be in the apartment.”

“I would flip you off if we weren’t in a classy establishment,” Zach retorts as we both sit down opposite the other couple. “We’re not that late.”

He looks at his watch before looking back at Zach with a pointed expression. “You’re twenty-five minutes late.”

“Blaine.” Alex laughs. “Don’t act like you’re a saint when we only got here five minutes ago.”

His fiancé’s mouth drops open in a mock gasp. “Baby, will you please stop being so perfect and let me tease my friend?”

I snicker as I pour some water into my and Zach’s glasses. “You can blame me for being late. I seem to have some trouble keeping my hands to myself around Zach.”

A wicked grin appears on Blaine’s face, but the waiter comes to take our orders before he can say anything. Once we’ve ordered, we settle into an easy conversation about the Thunder’s season. They clinched their spot in the playoffs two nights ago, becoming the first team to secure a place in the postseason. Then Alex tells us about their wedding planning. They’ve decided on a date in July, and they’ve found a place in California right on the beach.

“Maybe we can plan to head there from Hawaii? Spend some time in California before we need to be in Denver?” I suggest to Zach.

He turns his head to me. The low, ambient lighting of the restaurant does nothing to diminish the love shining in Zach’s blue eyes. He’s tied his hair up completely tonight, showing off his handsome-as-fuck face. I want to trace his cheekbones and the sharp lines of his lips with my fingers.

How can the simple sight of someone make your heart leap in your chest?

“Yeah, that sounds great.” He smiles softly.

“So, how’s Brody finding it in Toronto, Zach? You looking forward to facing him next week?” Blaine asks, breaking the moment.

My teeth grind on instinct at the sound of his brother’s name. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate the guy, but growing up, he was a real asshole to Zach. I hated how upset he got, not knowing why his brother had become his biggest rival. However, in recent years, he seems to have accepted that he and Brody aren’t going to be as close as siblings should typically be.

But also, I’m an only child, so I don’t understand why Brody is the way he is.

Zach shrugs. “Okay, I think? I’ve not really heard from him.”

And that’s another thing that pisses me off. Brody only messaged Zach twice since his injury in January. It’s been nearly three months. Doesn’t he give a shit?

“How about you, Carter?” Alex smiles at me. “Will you be seeing any of your teammates in the off-season?”

I blink at him, a little confused. I mean, his question is totally normal. Anyone would think that I’d make plans to see a few of the guys, even if it’s to grab dinner or a round of golf. But I’m not like everyone else, and realization hits me full force, knocking my breath from my lungs.

Here I am getting pissed off about Brody, but none of my teammates have checked in on how Zach was doing. Not once have they dropped a text or a DM checking in on me. We spend so much time together during the season, so they know how important Zach is to me. Hell, I’ve come to realize that we’ve almost been in a relationship without knowing we were in a relationship. Surely that should mean something?

But then again, I’ve never looked at the people in Denver and thought of them as family. Not like the Thunder guys, who have welcomed me into the fold as an extension to Zach.

But fuck, other than Zach, I have no one.

He’s got them—Elliot, Blaine, Jackson, Peyton, Ethan, and all the others. He’s got people who care for him, almost as much as I do. They were there for him when he was injured. They were there for me when he was injured, but my own teammates were nowhere to be seen.

But then again, maybe my teammates are simply not like these guys. The Thunder guys have a unique bond, and a lot of teams don’t have that.

“Carter, you okay?” Zach asks quietly, his hand squeezing my thigh.

Letting out a steady breath, I place my hand on top of his and nod. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

If I hadn’t already made my mind up about leaving Denver, this would have settled it for me. My home is here in Chicago. It’s with Zach and this extended Thunder family.

I’ve just got to make it through to January.