Page 43

FORTY-THREE

RILEY

Me

I’m taking you on a date tonight, Lexi baby.

Lexi

I need a nickname for you. RiRi?

Me

That makes me sound like a dog.

Lexi

Well. You did crawl. Could I get you to bark too?

Me

Way to be a smart-ass. Guess the ropes will be getting some use tonight.

Lexi

If that’s supposed to be a threat, it’s not going to work on me!

Me

Clearly.

Lexi

Dinner sounds great. What should I wear?

Me

Something casual but warm. I figured we could walk.

Lexi

I’m excited.

Me

See you at 7, Armstrong.

Lexi

Looking forward to it, Mitchy.

* * *

I pace in front of Lexi’s door for three minutes before I finally decide to knock. I take a step back and wait for her to answer while I practically sweat through the hoodie I have on under my jacket.

I’m so fucking nervous.

This woman is a goddamn queen, and she can be with anyone she wants. The fact that she’s picking me blows my mind, and I’m going to do everything in my power to prove I’m worthy of her time.

The door unlocks and flies open. I blink and Lexi is there in a pink sweater and jeans with her long dark hair framing her face, and yeah. I’m so fucking weak. I almost whimper when I see her because she’s so beautiful.

“Hi,” I say, and her smile is sly and sexy.

“Hi,” she says, eyes bouncing to the flowers I’m holding. “What are those?”

“They’re for you.” I thrust the bouquet her way, and her mouth pops open. She takes the flowers and holds them close to her chest. “Tulips, right?”

“Right. You remembered,” she whispers, touching one of the petals. “Of course you did. Gosh. They’re beautiful. Where did you find them out of bloom?”

“I pulled a few strings and might’ve used my name. It’s not something I do frequently, but when the situation calls for it I will.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and shrug, trying to look nonchalant when, really, I spent three days calling dozens of greenhouses across the Southeast to see if anyone had any tulips they could overnight me. I finally found a place in Florida, and a gruff, irritated-sounding dude assured me the flowers would be at my door by morning.

He wasn’t lying, and I think I might believe in angels now.

“Do you want to come in? I’m going to put these in some water, then I’ll be ready to go,” she says, turning on her heel and gesturing me inside.

“Thanks.” I shut the door behind me and follow her into the kitchen. I slide into a chair at her small kitchen table and watch her snip the ends of the stems and fill a vase up with water. “How was your day?”

“Busy. Two women I went to college with host a podcast about sports and women enjoying sports, and I recorded an episode with them about my favorite teams to make the NBA playoffs.”

“No hockey talk?”

“No. It didn’t feel right to talk about teams other than the Stars. I’m a biased fangirl through and through.” She smiles at me over her shoulder. “We are going to make the playoffs though. I can feel it.”

“I hope we do. The boys have been playing hard and putting in the work. Starting at the bottom of the Eastern conference but having the best record since the All-Star break is the momentum we—they—need heading into the last ten games of the season.”

“And you’ll be there coaching them.” Lexi drops the flowers in the vase and arranges them in a neat order that doesn’t look any different from before. “Am I dressed okay for tonight? I didn’t want to be too fancy or too casual, and?—”

“You look perfect.” I stand and walk toward her so I can drop a kiss on her forehead. She wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest, and this, this is perfection to me: her in my hold, touching her anywhere I can reach. Listening to her let out a content sigh that tells me she likes it too. “You don’t need to change a thing.”

“Okay.” I feel her smile against my hoodie, then she tugs on the drawstrings. “The chances are high I’m going to be stealing this sweatshirt from you too, Mitchell.”

“Maybe getting you out of your clothes and into mine was my plan all along.”

“You’re sneaky.” She kisses my jaw and pulls away, grabbing a purse and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m ready for you to woo me on my first date ever.”

“Get ready, Armstrong. I’m going to date your ass off.”

* * *

Two hours, a large pizza, and a couple of drinks later, we’re side by side in front of a pool table at an arcade. The lighting is dim. The music is tolerable, and when Lexi grabs a cue and leans against it with a raised eyebrow, I give her a sheepish grin.

“Yes?” I ask.

“I’m surprised,” she says. “You’re a romantic guy. I was expecting something fancy and over the top. Book boyfriend level with a boombox on your shoulder and some groveling.”

I spent hours trying to figure out where to take her, and everything I came up with didn’t feel like her . Dinner at a restaurant on top of a hotel overlooking the city seemed too cheesy. Wandering around the museums after hours seemed too much like I was avoiding having a conversation with her. A black-tie fundraising event seemed like it would be boring as hell.

So, I decided to take her to do the things we’d do even if this wasn’t a date. Dinner at a casual restaurant where we tried to make the most ridiculous pizza in existence before our walk to an underground arcade. And the night is young. There’s plenty more on the agenda, but kicking her ass in pool is a good break in the action.

“You’re a date virgin,” I say. “I’m easing you into it. Being gentle, you know?”

“You’re doing so good,” she purrs, and I deserve a goddamn medal for not getting hard from her silky, smooth voice. “It’s cute you think you’re better than me at pool.”

“You play?” I rack up the balls and grab my own cue. “I’m surprised.”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all. Being good at things men think they’re superior in is my quest in life.”

“Care to make a bet?”

“You have my attention.” Lexi leans over the edge of the table, and I’m distracted by her hand running over the felt, thinking about how much I’d like to pin her palms in place and fuck her until she screams my name. “What did you have in mind?”

I blink and clear my throat. “Another thing on my Life List.” I step closer to her and slide a hand over her waist. Her sharp inhale tells me she’s probably fantasizing about the same things I am, and I’m glad we’re tucked away in a spot where no one can see us. “Tattoos.”

“Are you going to put my name in a heart on your arm?” she teases.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the winner gets to pick what the loser puts on their body.”

“Oh, those are some interesting stakes.” She turns her head, a smirk pulling at her mouth. “Stipulations?”

“Nothing profane or vulgar. It has to be small—nothing bigger than a silver dollar coin. If it’s something the loser really doesn’t want, they’re allowed a veto.”

“Deal.” Lexi sticks out her hand, and I shake it. “You’re going down, Mitchell.”

I let her break, and she sinks two stripes right off the bat. My first two turns result in not pocketing a damn thing, and I’m afraid I’m going to eat my words. Lexi tries to distract me by wiggling her ass and pulling her hair up in a high ponytail so I can see the line of her neck, but I persevere. I make six shots in a row and take the lead, laughing when she crosses her arms over her chest and pouts.

“Something wrong, Lexi baby?”

“I don’t like losing. But I hate it even more when someone lets me win.” She lines up a shot and misses knocking in her ball by a hair. “I’m kicking myself for being so cocky.”

“Not everyone can be a winner.” I sink my last ball in a corner pocket and point to the eight ball. “I’m trying for the left side pocket.”

“How did you get so good at billiards?” she asks. “Weren’t you too busy playing hockey to excel at anything else?”

“I was a talented child athlete with many skills.” I knock the eight ball, but it spins off the edge of the table and comes to a stop in the middle of the felt. “But you can thank my dad. I traveled a lot for sports, obviously, and we’d always find a place to play no matter what city we were in. It was a good way for me to get my mind off the games I had ahead of me. When I was on the ice, I was locked in. Off the ice when I wasn’t practicing, I did things other than hockey. It was sacrilegious to some of my teammates, but I think that’s what helped me be as good as I used to be.”

“That’s smart.” Lexi finally pockets another ball and pumps her fist in the air. “And it’s cute to imagine you in bars when you were eleven.”

“I always ordered cheese fries and drank a Shirley Temple. I was living the dream.”

“I’ll say.” She misses again and frowns. “You’re up. This is for all the marbles.”

“Left corner,” I say, lining my cue up with the eight ball again. I close one eye and bite the tip of my tongue, grinning when the ball sinks straight into the pocket. “And that’s the game.”

“Well played, Mitchell.” She puts her cue back on the rack and holds out her hand. “A valiant effort.”

“And a worthy opponent.” I give her palm a shake and keep our fingers interlocked. “C’mon. There’s a tattoo parlor just up the road, and then we have one more stop to make after.”

“This is an action-packed date. There hasn’t been a dull moment.”

“I aim to please, Armstrong.”

The walk to the shop is quick. When we step inside the space, we’re greeted and given an available slot. After filling out a shit ton of legal paperwork, the tattoo artist waves us over, and we head for the booth to the left of the shop.

“What’s my punishment, sugar?” Lexi asks, grinning when I blush and run a hand through my hair. “Do I get to put your hockey number on the inside of my wrist? Maybe Riley’s girl on my lower back?”

“All great ideas, but not on brand with who you are. And you haven’t ever worn my number. Tattooing it on your body seems extreme.”

“Do you want me to wear your number?”

“Seems silly now, doesn’t it? I’m not going to wear a hockey jersey again. You shouldn’t have to.”

She hums and hops on the table. “Guess I’ll have to find another Stars player I like. I wonder if Grant is available.”

“No fucking way,” I say, putting my hands on either side of her hips. “It’s my jersey or no jersey, Lexi.”

“Possessive Riley comes out. I like it.” She tilts her chin back and laughs. “Fine. No one else’s jersey.”

“Good.”

“Hey, folks. What are we getting done today? Do you want to see a sample of ideas, or do you have something in mind already?” the artist asks, and Lexi gestures my way.

“Whatever this guy decides. We just met at a bar, and he talked me into getting matching tattoos. I don’t even know his name,” she says, and I laugh.

“What’s your ugliest tattoo?” I ask. “Something you’d be horrified to actually put on someone’s body.”

“I did a pile of shit once,” he says. “Including flies.”

“If you make me get shit on my body, I will murder you, Riley Mitchell,” Lexi warns.

“No shit. I promise. I was thinking more like five hearts. Either connected or staggered above each other,” I say. “And maybe a puck in the middle of them.”

“Is this like a nine lives thing? Or how many hearts I’ve broken?”

“Do you really think I’d ask you to put something related to a man on your body? The five hearts are for you and the girls.” I slide my hands up her thighs, and her eyes widen. “Your best friends and the loves of your life. I know they’re important to you.”

“That—” She bites her bottom lip and sniffs. A tear rolls down her cheek, but she wipes it away before it has time to dry. “I really like that idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s… it’s so me.”

“I thought so too.” I kiss her forehead. “When you’re with me, Lex, I always want you to be you.”

“Ah, so the stranger thing was a roleplaying bit.” The artist nods and draws an outline of the design. When she gives her approval of the size and positioning, he grabs his tattoo gun, and I move out of the way. “Kinky.”

Lexi huffs out a watery laugh. “Something like that.”

I hold her left hand while the artist rolls up the sleeve of her sweater and tattoos the five hearts and a tiny puck right above her right elbow. The process takes less than an hour, and when he finishes, she examines the permanent ink with a wide smile.

“It’s sexy,” I murmur, careful when I touch the area around the marks. “I like it.”

“So do I,” she whispers. “It’s perfect.”

“Anything for you, man?” the artist asks, and Lexi lifts an eyebrow.

“You should get something. We can be tattoo twins.”

“I’m not sure how five hearts would look on me. And there would be a huge fight over who each one represented. I don’t have favorite teammates.”

“Maverick, Hudson, Liam, Grant and… dare I say Ethan?” Lexi fills in for me, and I smile.

“Spot on, Armstrong.”

“What about a tiny roller coaster? It could have a double meaning: something crossed off your list, yeah, but also a representation of life. Its ups and downs. Highs and lows. But you always pull into the station at the end, ready to ride again.”

“Wow.” I drag my thumb across my bottom lip, thinking. “That was deep as shit.”

“Right?”

It could also commemorate the most perfect day I’ve had in a while. Our trip to Coney Island awakened something in me, and I wouldn’t mind having the memory of it on my body for the rest of my life.

“Let’s do it.” I slip off my jacket and tug off my hoodie, laughing when Lexi grabs the sweatshirt and holds it to her chest. “I’ll get it in the same spot as you so we really can be twins.”

My tattoo takes a little longer, and when the artist puts a protective film over it, I turn my arm to the side to admire it.

“It looks great,” Lexi says. “The perfect size.”

“I can take a picture of them side by side,” the artist says. “If you want.”

“Yes, please!” She hands over her phone and lines our arms up. “I need a photo to remember this date by.”

“You’re not going to remember it by the art we just put on our bodies?” I ask, and she sticks her tongue out at me.

I give the artist a thousand bucks, which is way too much money for the cost of the pieces, but Lexi is smiling nonstop. She keeps snapping photos of the tiny hearts, and I’d pay a thousand more just to keep her happy like this.

“Ready for the last stop?” I ask, stealing my hoodie back and pulling it on.

“I don’t see how tonight gets any better, but yeah. I am,” she says, looping her arm through mine as we step onto the sidewalk. “Does it involve sex toys?”

“What?” I sputter. “No, it does not involve sex toys.”

“You never know with you, Mitchy. I didn’t think I’d find ropes in your dresser, but here we are.”

“Okay, fair, but there are no sex toys scheduled for the rest of the night.”

“Bummer. Whatever else you have planned is just as good, I’m sure.”

“I’m starting to think you like busting my balls,” I say.

“Starting to think that? Oh, Riley.” Lexi flashes me a smile. “You’re so naive.”

We get to the ice cream shop, and she lights up. She orders a large cup of cookies and cream and I get a chocolate cone, making sure to grab a stack of napkins for us. We shuffle back outside and sit next to each other on a bench, taking a few bites before we talk again.

“This is the best date I’ve ever been on,” she says.

“Isn’t it the only date you’ve been on?”

“Technically? Yes. But it’s still the best one. I don’t remember the last time I had such a good time out with a guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“All the socialization was to make sure they weren’t a serial killer before going back to their place.” She swallows down a bite of her ice cream and pauses. “No one’s ever asked me questions about myself. No one has ever wanted to know.”

“Do you mean how you’re allergic to bees and you like cookies and cream ice cream the most, but only if it has lots of Oreo pieces in it?” I nudge her knee with mine. “I want to know these things.”

“Even the boring stuff? Like that my favorite color is orange?”

“You’re my best friend, Lexi. Of course I want to know all of that.”

“I’m not glad you lost your leg and went through a world of pain, but I’m so glad our paths crossed in the way they did.” She puts her head on my shoulder and sighs. “The girls might be the loves of my life, but you’re my best friend too, Riley.”

I’ve been broken for months. Half of who I used to be physically and mentally, but when I’m with her, it feels like I’m on my way to being whole again. Every laugh of hers is a stitch that sews the busted-up, ugly parts of me back together. Every smile is a balm to the aches that linger around, and little by little, I’m on my way to being who I used to be.

For a long time, I thought I wouldn’t know what to do without hockey in my life, and now I have it figured out. I have a new purpose besides the sport I love. Something bigger and more important than hitting a puck and lacing up my skates. I can have two favorite things, because it involves proving to Lexi every goddamn day she’s worthy of being treated right, worthy of being told she’s special and brilliant and beautiful, and I won’t stop until there’s not an ounce of doubt in her mind that she’s one in eight billion. One of a kind, my favorite person, and the woman I’m falling in love with.

So many things have been almost impossible for me since the night my life changed, but Lexi? Lexi is the easiest part of every day.

I turn to kiss the top of her head, everything in me calm and settled. “You want to come back to my place?”

“Yeah.” Her nod is vigorous, certain, and I’m grinning like a goddamn fool. “I do.”

“Today was a good day,” I murmur.

“They’re all good days with you, Riley,” she whispers, and I hold that as close to chest as tight as I can.