Page 20

Chapter 20

Alexis

In the end, the bus ride to Vermont wasn’t half bad.

Then again I spent most of it curled up at Blake’s side, fast asleep, and even in my dreams his words echoed. You, Alexis Moore, are my only exception.

Each time I hear it in my mind, my heart glows like wildfire.

It doesn’t help that Blake makes me sleep better than any medication I’ve tried. Unlike the pills and syrups and teas, he doesn’t just suppress my anxiety but eases it until it’s barely noticeable. It is a terrifying thing, to be so dependent on him, but what I told Levi that night wasn’t a lie. If this ends when the contest is over, I will accept it with grace. Blake and I made a deal, and we owe each other nothing more than those terms.

So when I find Levi staring at us with that conflicted look on his face, I shoot him a smile. I can’t make him stop worrying about me—he is my brother, after all—but I can make sure he has no reason to.

The arena is only a few blocks away from the hotel, leaving us with plenty of time to kill before the guys have to go prepare. Blake suggests staying in our room for a bit and going for a walk later, but I know he’s suggesting that for my benefit alone. Away games are great for boosting team morale, and strengthening bonds between them so they work better as a team. I can’t let Blake miss out on any of that, especially now that he and Levi are rocky at best. So I surprise everyone by suggesting we go for an early dinner instead.

We walk over as a group, Blake’s arm around my shoulders, his breath tickling my skin as he whispers sweet nothings into my ear. He insists on paying for dinner like always, though this time I don’t fight him on it. The restaurant they chose is out of my price range, anyway.

Levi, as one of the few players without a partner, chooses to sit at the head of our table.

Being captain of a winning hockey team, he can get any girl he wants, but his solitude is a choice rather than resignation. There is only one girl in this world worthy of my brother’s heart, and she is across the state in the sleepy village we grew up in.

Lottie got accepted into Brookside at the same time as Alissa and me, but she had to stay behind to care for her ailing dad. She’s been my best friend—aside from my womb-mate—since we were little, and that didn’t change when she and my brother started dating in our teens. She is the only person who can draw the worry from his mind, often without even trying to, and that doesn’t change no matter how long they’ve been apart.

But I know Lottie’s secret, and when we see her next, things may not be the same.

My heart flutters as Blake’s hand finds mine underneath the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of my palm as he laughs at something Raf says. I try to pay attention to their conversation, but it’s about hockey and I don’t understand the rules even a little bit, so I mostly end up staring at Blake, imagining all the things I’d like him to do to me once we’re alone. He glances at me, his grin widening as he winks, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking about.

If only.

You would think growing up with two sport-obsessed siblings would create a third, but any attempt at learning about it leaves me bored and irritated. If I had to guess, I would say it’s a mentality kind of thing; day-to-day life is so exhausting to me that sports are downright impossible. Blocking out engaging with it in any way might be my brain’s way of protecting me from feeling left out more than I already do.

How ironic, then, that I’m dating one of the school’s star hockey players.

Wait, shit. Fake dating.

It’s a little better once they’re on the ice. Blake looks incredibly sexy in his gear and he knows it, lifting the hem of his jersey at every opportunity where he knows I can see. He spotted me in the crowd seconds after they hit the ice, and his gaze never strayed as he did his elaborate and highly suggestive warm up. The sight alone was enough to make me blush, every vein in my body set alight in anticipation. I swore I saw him grin at the sight.

As the game unfolds I study his movements, relying on the knowledge of Raf’s boyfriend, Nico, to figure out the plays. He also tells me that, while effective, Blake’s actions on the ice are generally frowned upon and his sitting in that box thing is because he’s out on a penalty, and not just him looking after his energy like I assumed.

His eyes find mine as he waits out his time, a soft smile playing his lips. There is a look in his eyes that is hard to pin down yet leaves butterflies swarming inside of me, spreading a kind of itch I know deep down only he can scratch.

The other partners stare at me like I’ve grown a second head when I burst out in laughter at the sight of Blake falling on his ass. I’m worried sick about him being in there, let it be known, but this fall was so dramatic that I know he’s okay without him telling me. It’s their loss, really; him sliding across the ice on his butt is objectively the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I hope someone turns it into a meme.

I pull Blake’s beanie further over my ears and tug at my mittens, the biting cold tearing through my many layers no matter what I do. Another reason to hate hockey: chronic pain flare-ups are almost guaranteed with every game or practice I go to.

Nico jabs me in the side and points to Blake just in time to see him score, and like a 00’s romcom, he points right at me while blowing a kiss. I laugh and pretend to catch it as if it were a tangible thing, my cheeks bursting with color as I notice myself on the big screen. To round out the cliché I press my hands together in a heart shape and mouth I love you, and relief washes over me as the screen goes back to showing the players.

“You two are so cute. I’ve never seen a man this smitten,” Nico says. “Not with a woman, anyway.”

“You think he’s smitten?” I look out onto the ice to find his eyes on me again, a smile playing on his lips before his gaze is pulled back to the puck. My heart flutters at the thought.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Nico says. “He’s not even trying to hide it, either–he’s gone soft. Did you know he gave Raf a trip to Paris for his birthday?”

I shake my head no.

“Blake said that when love is real, it should be celebrated, and he wanted us to have something truly special. Who does that? Who just gives their friend a trip to Europe and downplays how big that is?”

“He does,” I say. It makes sense; this is the one thing he could give Rafael that the latter couldn’t pass down to his family, something he’s forced to use himself. Smart thinking on Blake’s part. “Blake doesn’t care about money. If he likes you, he’d buy you the world without a second thought.”

Nico laughs. “He really likes you, so what did he buy you?”

“Nothing. I don’t want his money.” I look away, dodging the questioning look on Nico’s face as I whisper, “I just want him.”

Is this what life with Blake would be like? Going to hockey games, cheering him on, freezing my butt off? I could get used to it, I admit. His teammates are nice—well, most of them—and so are their partners. Nico is great company in the dull moments, and Blake plays with such passion even I enjoy watching him play. But then what?

As a teacher, I can’t follow him from state to state once he’s in the NHL, and I can’t ask him to give up his dreams for me. Being with me comes with enough compromises as it is. I’m sure he’d encourage me to stay home, and say that I don’t have to work if it’s a drain on my health, but I’m not giving my dreams up either.

What am I even doing, thinking about these things? I don’t even know if anything Blake and I share is real, and here I am, dreaming of a future with him. I can’t help it, though; it just feels so right . The fact that Alexis Taylor has a nice ring to it doesn’t help, either.

I’d be lucky, so incredibly lucky, to have Blake to call mine—for real, that is.

Though I know, deep down, nothing about this is fake for me.

It’s late at night when we get back to the hotel, the both of us quiet and aching.

“I’m going to take a hot shower, try to thaw out a bit.” I toss my coat and purse onto the bed, running a hand through my hair with a sigh. Even standing right next to the steaming radiator, I still feel as cold as the Arctic.

Blake lets himself fall onto the bed, yanking his boots off one by one. “Need any help? I’m very good at showers.”

The lowest part of my belly aches at the thought. I bet that shower would really warm me up. Still, there is another contest date planned for tomorrow, and I should probably reserve what little energy I have for that.

“You’re welcome to join me, Blakey-bear, but I barely have enough fumes left to get through a shower, let alone anything fun.”

“Fair enough. Today was a lot. Go ahead, Sunshine. I’ll be here if you need me.” Blake shoots me the softest smile, full of fatigue and emotions I don’t allow myself to acknowledge.

“I’ll be right out.”

I don’t bother searching for my pajamas, snatching only a set of fresh underwear from my bag. Blake has seen me naked before; I doubt he minds seeing me in my underwear.

In the bathroom I peel off every layer, from the hat to the leggings and underwear, and before long the scalding hot stream of water washes over me. The relief is almost immediate, the stiffness in my muscles easing with every moment, though it does little for the pain.

A knock sounds from the door, and I don’t think twice.

“Come in.”

The door opens and I don’t turn away. The water hits my spine at just the right angle; it would be a shame to lose that bit of happiness. Blake stares for a moment, his eyes wide as they glide along every inch and curve like he has never seen me naked before. It’s kind of sweet.

I hate to break his stare, but he’s letting all the precious warmth out of the room. I motion for him to close the door and he blinks, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts as he obliges.

“I’ve got your jammies, figured it’d be best to bundle up before getting out of here. You know, to lock in that post-shower warmth.” Blake places a stack of clothes on the bathroom countertop before leaning against it, the muscle straining against the thin fabric of his white shirt. He's staring again, though it’s far from an uncomfortable one. It's almost appreciative, awestruck. And wholly one-sided.

“You know, if you’re going to stay you might as well join me.”

He raises a brow, conflict clear on his face. “You sure?”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.”

Like it’s happening in slow motion Blake steps closer, throwing his shirt into a corner to reveal his sculpted torso. He drops his joggers, revealing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, leaving him naked and tantalizingly close.

I let my eyes feast on his body the way he did mine. I take in every toned muscle, every groove and bump, how his thighs could crush a skull and the way the veins on his arms lie just above the rest. Blake’s body seems tailor-made for me, with every inch of him screaming at me to climb him like a tree.

And I will. Just not tonight.

I take his hand, leading him closer until he’s in the wall-less shower cabin with me, and crash my lips into his.

Blake’s hands land on my bare hips but never stray, though the evidence of how badly he wants to presses against my stomach. One jump into his arms would be enough to feel him inside of me, and for a moment I imagine doing it. Imagine him pressing me into the wall and filling me up so deliciously that I’d want for nothing until I screamed his name over and over.

I feel myself getting wet at the mere thought of it, though I meant what I said earlier. I'm too exhausted for that tonight.

“You never cease to amaze me, Alexis,” Blake grins like an idiot, and it’s so infectious I can't stop myself from smiling, either. Being in Blake’s orbit, looking into his eyes–-it eases the weight of the world on my shoulders. I never knew how heavy a burden it was until he kissed me and I felt it all crashing down around us, allowing me to finally breathe.

Blake tries to pull me in again but I stop him, my eyes trained on the collection of scars and bruises. Some have faded to nothing but a faint line, while others look relatively new. And the bruising… “Are these all from playing hockey?”

I’ve seen Levi without a shirt countless times, but he doesn’t have anywhere near as many scars as Blake does.

“No,” Blake says. “I mean, most are. But the others…I wasn’t always the lovable rogue you know me as. There is a lot of shit I’m hiding from everyone—even you.”

I run a finger along a long, jagged scar on his left peck. “Tell me?”

Conflict battles in his gaze before his hand closes on mine, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

“That one I got during a visitation with my dad when he got drunk and came at me with a knife. Apparently I’m too sensitive for a guy, and it pissed him off, ” Blake says. He moves my hand to his side. “That one I got during a boxing match that spilled out of the ring. He and his buddies waited outside, I barely got away.”

Our hands dip lower, almost low enough to touch his rock-hard length before he stops with a chuckle. “This one’s less exciting—appendectomy.”

“Shit, Blake.” I blink against the burning in my eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. Is this why he was so insistent on walking me to and from class every day? Because he was afraid Hudson would eventually bring a weapon?

Blake’s finger lifts my chin, forcing my gaze away from his scars. His eyes are a storm in the ocean, wild and violent. But there’s a strength in them that takes my breath away, a defiant kind of gentleness only I get to see.

“I don’t like talking about this stuff, who I was before. I was lost, Sunshine. So fucking lost until I heard you laugh that day.” He shakes his head. “Do you know why I call you Sunshine , Alexis? It’s because from that moment on I saw a way out. A way to live, not just survive. A way out of the shit hole I found myself in and take back the control I’d lost. You are the ray of light I needed to obliterate the darkness that consumed me for twenty-one years, and I have spent every single day since then trying to become the man that’s deserving of you.”

I cup his jaw in the palm of my hand, stroking the scruff with my thumb. The other hand lays flush against his heart, the steady beating calm and reassuring. “I’m not a saint, nor a goddess. You don’t have to change who you are to deserve me; every version of you is enough. You told me that being with you is supposed to be easy, that I can be me and you be you—it’s time you listen to your own words. You are deserving, Blake. More than you’ll ever know.”

Blake leans in to kiss me and this time I don’t stop him. Not just because kissing him is like sliding into a hot bath during a bad pain day, but because it feels like he needs this; like the feeling of my lips on his are grounding him somehow. So I let go of any thought and sink into him, letting him use me in any way he needs.

Eventually, he releases me with a long, tender kiss on the forehead. “We should probably turn off the water.”

“Yeah, I don’t have any energy left to wash my hair anyway.” I move to turn off the water but Blake catches my hand and pulls me down until my butt connects with his rock-hard thigh—a welcome perch after all this standing.

His fingers dig into my skull, massaging the skin before covering it with pomegranate shampoo. The sensation of his clever fingers in my hair is enough for a moan to leave my lips, making him chuckle.

“Is that enough to turn you on these days, Sunshine?” he says, the self-satisfaction clear in his voice. “I’m thinking the next time we shower together, I’ll make you sit just like this and edge yourself on my thigh until you’re a whimpering mess, and then I’ll take you nice and slow against the wall until you’re begging me to come like the good girl you are.”

“You won’t have the self-control, Blakey-bear,” I say, and like intended the nickname makes him roll his eyes at once.

“Is that so?”

I lean back until my spine connects with his chest and his jaw is within kissing distance. “It’s like you said—when you take me, neither of us will want it to stop.”