Page 59

THIRTY-SIX

AUGUSTE

Courtney’s curled up in my t-shirt, tucked beneath the blankets like the world outside this bed doesn’t exist. Her lashes are fanned across skin that’s lost too much color. One hand clutches the edge of the duvet like it’s her only tether.

I should be sleeping. I should be next to her, breathing in sync, but instead I’m perched on the armchair by the window, phone lighting up my lap while my heart beats too loud and too fast and too fucking helpless.

I’ve already texted Mom and étty. But neither of them can help. Not really. Not with this.

Martin has medical power of attorney, and Catherine’s incapacitated.

Which means Courtney’s locked out. It’s not right and definitely not fair. Even if what I’ve come to know of her mom doesn’t make me like her, she’s still my girl’s mother. Courtney wouldn’t exist without Catherine and for that alone, I’m grateful to her.

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I stare at the ceiling looking for an answer in the white coving. There isn’t one.

The more I think about it, the more obvious it becomes what I need to do. Because nothing is not an option.

There’s one person left who might be able to do something.

I grab my phone again. Scroll past the old team texts and hit Coach Nilsson .

I hesitate for half a second, then tap call.

It rings twice. Then again. Then? —

“Auguste?” His voice is rough and surprised.

“Hey, Coach.” I don’t waste time beating around the bush. Just straight up tell him, “You need to come to Washington.”

A pause. “What are you doing in Washington, Bruce?”

“Our girl needs you.” I hear my own voice crack and I don’t bother hiding it. “She’s desperate to see Catherine but Martin is using his power of attorney to keep her out and?—”

“Son of a bitch,” Coach spits. “Where is she now?”

“She’s here with me. Sleeping.”

“Good. I’m booking a flight now. First thing out.”

“There’s one at six in the morning from LAX. Gets to Dulles at two-twenty in the afternoon, local time. I checked.”

He exhales like he’s trying to keep from punching something. “Until I land, you keep her away from that bastard and look after her. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, Auguste?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you,” he says after a beat, and the gratitude softening his voice wrenches in my chest.

I end the call to find a text from Delilah. I completely forgot to update her earlier.

Delilah

How’s she doing? Any news?

Auguste

Court’s resting. Her mom is in ICU.

Delilah

If you guys need anything…tell me.

Auguste

Thank you.

I crawl into bed next to Court and hold her as tight as I can without disturbing her. While I wait to fall asleep I count her breaths and bury my face in her hair.

Morning comes after too long. I’m strung out and on edge, but I have to keep it together for her. Because Coach is on his way and I made him a promise to look after her. More than that, I promised to be her safe place. A place she could break and I would watch over all her pieces.

That promise is all that matters right now.

Courtney yawns, blinking slowly as I pull the curtains open just enough to let in a lazy sliver of sun.

“Hello, Princess,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing my thumb down her cheek.

“Hey, Masterchef.” Her voice is dry, croakier than usual when she wakes up.

I open the bottle of water on her bedside table and offer her a drink. When she chugs half in seconds, I pull it away. “Slow. Don’t make yourself sick.”

“I already feel it.”

“Don’t make it worse.”

Courtney smiles, pressing a kiss to my palm when I cup her face. “I like it when you’re bossy.”

The innuendo I’m about to quip dies on my tongue as I look into her eyes and the sadness there is inescapable.

“Come on. Let’s go get breakfast. Maybe buy you something that isn’t… my team merch.”

She lifts the hem of the t-shirt she’s wearing offering me a peek at the smooth skin of her belly. “This is Comets couture. It even smells like it.”

I grin back, pushing through the knot in my chest. “Well, too bad, because I’ve already planned breakfast and a quick stop to pick up some clothes. Comets couture might look real fine on you, but I’m not sure I can pull it off.”

Courtney chuckles, instantly turning her attention to her phone where I’ve put it on charge on her bedside table.

I give her time to scroll through her messages while I shower and get dressed in the same clothes from yesterday. Maybe I should have asked the concierge service to pick up some options for us.

The last thing Courtney wants to do is shop for clothes while her mom is in the hospital and we have no idea how she’s doing. I just figured we could use it as an excuse to kill some time before Coach gets here.

I haven’t even told her about that because I know she’ll panic, and she has enough on her plate. So I will carry her over that bridge when we get to it.

“She’s still not awake,” Courtney whimpers, falling into my arms as soon as I walk out of the bathroom. “They have her sedated. ”

“I read online that it’s normal for TBIs. This guy Jayden and Matheo know had something similar and he had to be sedated for his brain to recover and?—”

“I don’t want my mom to die, Auguste.”

“Court, she’s being looked after by the best neuro team in Washington.

I looked it up last night. Washington Memorial has a state of the art Neurology department, and some big shot specialist that everyone is talking about and he’ll be taking care of your mom.

She’s in the best fucking place. I promise. ”

It’s about the only promise I can make to her right now. I scoured the internet for all the information I could get on the neurology team at the hospital. Searched up each member of the staff…

I hold her face in both hands, using my thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Tell me what you need. What more can I do to make this better… easier for you?”

“You’re it,” she whispers back, leaning all the way into me.

Courtney melts into my chest, allowing me to be her anchor, the skeleton that holds her up.

“Let’s go get breakfast,” she tells me with a kiss to my chest, right over my heart. “Also, I kind of have to make you look pretty for when you meet my mom.”

When I meet her mom.

After everything she’s put Courtney through, I’m not even sure I want to meet the woman. The way she’s allowed her piece of shit husband to bully and undermine my girl’s spirit is abominable to me.

But.

My girl loves her. And if she can find it in herself to forgive and move on, then so can I. And I can be fucking honored and blown away.

Speechless.

I watch Courtney pull my compression shorts from my kitbag and put them on with a quip about it being “walk of shame chic” before she fluffs her gorgeous, frizzy curls to one side and ties a knot in the hem of my t-shirt.

Fuck me, this woman has never looked more beautiful than she does as we lace hands and head out.

In spite of everything going on around us, I’ve never felt luckier or this grounded. In touch with myself.

We eat at a quiet café near the hotel. Court barely touches her granola yoghurt bowl.

I mean, as nice as it looks, I’m not into vegan labeled rabbit food, and neither is she.

So as we leave, I pick up the check and a dairy-free blueberry scone with lemon curd filling and another oat milk vanilla latte.

“Are you trying to fatten me up?” Courtney jokes, and I chuckle along even though her laugh is tense and wrong. “No, seriously, you’ve been feeding me since day one.”

“Day two. On day one I knocked you off your feet, Princess.”

“Why do you call me Princess?” Courtney takes one last bite of her scone before I take her into a clothes store a few blocks from the hotel.

“Because… you opened your eyes and it was my first thought.”

Courtney spins to level me with a frown while she walks backwards through the store. “Your first thought about me was that I’m a princess? Like, do you really think I’m a brat?”

“Not in the bad way you’re thinking. You were wearing this poofy sleeve top and then you opened your eyes and my first thought was Snow White .”

“She has brown eyes and short hair.”

“I don’t know why, it just pinged and you always wear those princess sleeves so it stuck.”

“I wear those sleeves because I’m a pear shape. My hips are wider than my shoulders, and the poofy sleeves balance it out.”

“I think you’re perfectly balanced without the poofy sleeves.” I grip her waist and tug her into me as we reach the end of a rack.

I grab her ass and she grabs a couple random pieces from the rack. “Take me to the changing room, Masterchef.”

“The changing room?” I choke, surprised by her request because the two assistants are watching us and with everything going on, I don’t want to take advantage of her… and we’re in public.

We’ve never done anything sexual in public. I’ve never done anything intimate in public.

It’s risky. It’s dangerous. It’s fucking insane—and my dick is hyped for it.

“The fucking changing room, Auguste. I need this. I need you.”

I turn her around and guide her to the hallway with changing rooms on either side. Ignoring the women watching us, we head for the one at the very end.

Courtney opens the door and I close it behind me.

“They know what we’re doing, Court.”

“And they know who you are. They’ve been watching your hockey wonderboy ass since we walked in…”

“And you know that how? ”

“Because I’ve been watching them, and I don’t like it.” Court tugs my sweats down my thighs along with my underwear. Then she spits into her hand and wraps it around my cock with a firm squeeze. “Mine. Remember?”

“Yours,” I whimper— fucking whimper —in reply, slapping my hand to her cunt.

So goddamn hot and promising, I don’t waste a second pulling my shorts down over her hips and then pushing them down her legs while she pumps me hard and fast.

Then she shucks them off and turns around, propping her foot up on the bench in front of the mirror. She’s showing me her gloriously wet cunt, open for me. Clenching as she reaches between her legs and I dip lower so I can watch as she puts me inside her.

“Fuck…” Courtney hisses into my palm as I muffle her heavy breaths while I thrust inside her.

Slow and deep, and I watch her stretch around me. Take me. All of me.

A shaky hand grips my face, holding my stare to the mirror. On her. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ll ever see.

“I call you Princess because you’re precious to me.” I fuck deeper into her and she writhes harder and faster. “Because you’re mine. My princess.” Thrust. “My little brat.” Thrust. “My pretty fucking slut.”

Thrust. “Yes.” Her muffled words slick my hand. “Yes, baby…”

Between gritted teeth, I groan into her ear. “You’re mine.” Fuuuuuuck .

“Yours.”

My fingers claw into her cheek, my palm presses harder to her gaping mouth as she pants. All her words are slurred and stuttered and thank fuck I’ve listened to her from day one so I can fucking understand every goddamn mewl she makes like it’s my own. My words. My breaths. My fucking prophecy.

“I’m yours, Auguste. All yours… fuck. Fuck… fuuuuuuck , yes! I’m coming for you, baby…”

Her pussy tightens around my cock and every last bit of sensation aches down to my balls. Tightening with every drive.

“Come… come with me,” she cries as I move my hand and crush my mouth to hers.

I give her exactly what she wants. Filling her with my cum as she shatters for me. Our bodies rutting and grinding together. Seeking more with each wave of our orgasm that fuzzes the world around us and every aftershock that brings it back to us.

Our world.

Ours.

“Oh my God,” Courtney giggles as I ease out of her.

“Shhh…” I clasp my hand on her mouth and turn her to me. “You’d think you want the people out there to know I just made you come all over my cock.”

“You made me come all over your cock and I made you come inside my pussy.” She licks my lip. “They know, baby… they heard you growl loud enough.”

“You asked, I delivered.” I pull my sweats and underwear up and crouch.

Courtney’s watching me as I unravel her underwear from my shorts before I dress her again, taking enough time that I can watch my cum drip out of her cunt and smear all over her marked thighs.

“That’s a pretty dress,” I say.

Courtney looks up at the dress on the hook beside her. Her already flushed face blooms brighter.

“Very…”

“Don’t.”

“So…”

“No.” She rips the hanger off the hook and throws the dress over the door. “I didn’t even look. I literally just grabbed it off the rack.”

“I think it’s beautiful. You’d look incredible in it.”

I’m going to buy it because one day, she’s going to wear it for me and I’m going to rip all that pretty ivory satin off her.

“It’s not even the right cut for me, so…”

“I disagree. Your body is perfect. I love your thick thighs and your big ass…” I tell her gripping her ass because every chance is an opportunity I will never pass up.

“Stop it,” she smacks my chest with another giggle.

“Never. Especially when you giggle like that. That sound is worth everything.”

“Auguste.” Courtney’s voice is a low whimper.

“Yes, Princess?” I curl a frizzy strand around my finger and unwind it over her shoulder.

“How do we do this?”

“Do what?” I know what she’s asking, but this is a conversation she needs to lead .

“Everyone I’ve cared about gets taken away from me.” Her hands hold my jaw. “My mom took me away from my dad, Martin took her away from me… So how do I keep you?”

“Since you asked… did you know that The Crescents and The Comets will play in the same city on the same days eight times in the upcoming season?”

“No.” Courtney shakes her head.

“On top of that, we’ll be on the same coast at least sixteen times.”

“That’s twenty four meetings.”

“I know it’s not even ten percent of the time we will be apart, but there are breaks and holidays.”

“Auguste…”

“I’ll take twenty-four meetings over none. Twenty-four nights over none. Twenty-four kisses and twenty-four chances to hold you over nothing.”

“Auguste,” Courtney murmurs. “Long distance…”

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Yes.”

My heart stutters with relief. “Good. We can talk about it later when we’ve figured out how to get you in to see your mom.”

Courtney nods as I grab the other dress from the door and take her hand before I open it and we walk out to two very shocked, very nosey assistants that spend the rest of our time in the store following us around being far too helpful when all we walk out of there with are two pairs of jeans, a couple t-shirts, and then the dress which I bought and asked to deliver to the hotel while Courtney was trying on her jeans.