Page 18

Chapter Eighteen

Cam

Coach took one look at my face as I stepped off the ice. “Go,” he said with a sigh.

I wasn't going to have my head in the game until I was sure Andi was all right, and he knew it.

Seeing her face on the screen like that, knowing she couldn't breathe, while the whole damn arena watched… My heart had stopped. Ached.

She could have died.

She could have died.

I bolted into the locker room and threw myself down onto a seat. In approximately half a second, I tore off my skates, cup and padding and ran for the door in my shorts and socks.

I all but flew down the corridor toward the elevator that led up to the private boxes. I skidded to a stop on the slippery floor, sliding the last foot before slamming, shoulder first into the elevator door.

I swore under my breath. That hurt like a bitch. I jammed my thumb down on the up button, holding it there until the doors slid open. I tumbled into the elevator car and jabbed at the button to close the doors.

Because I was in a hurry, they took at least three days to close. Of course it fucking did.

I'd started to jump out of the elevator and take the stairs, when they finally slid shut.

They barely started to open on the next floor before I was sliding past them and running to the team box.

I tried the door, but it was locked. I hammered it with my fist.

After a few moments, it swung open, revealing one of the arena security staff.

“Mr. North,” she said politely.

“Where is she?” I looked past her, trying to see Andi, but I saw no sign of the gorgeous redhead or her wild curls.

“Where is who, sir?” The security guard stepped back, letting me in, but clearly confused .

“Andi Welling,” I said quickly. “The team owner. She was here.”

“Oh. I don't know, sir,” the guard said politely. “She slipped out a couple of minutes ago.” She gave me a funny look, and glanced out towards the ice. The game started, but I couldn't bring myself to care at the moment.

“Did you see what direction she went?” I asked impatiently.

“I'm sorry, no I didn't,” the guard said. “Only that she was in a hurry to leave.”

“You let her leave?” I stared. Andi could have died and they'd just let her walk away?

“I'm here to keep people out, not in,” she said, starting to look irritated. Apparently she didn't appreciate the suggestion she wasn't doing her job right.

I might feel bad about that later, but like the game, I couldn't worry about that.

I spotted a woman sitting near the window, looking slightly pale and rattled. With barely a glance, I pushed past the guard and a handful of other people in the box.

“You're Andi's mother,” I stated.

“Yes.” She looked at me like she had no idea who I was and didn't want to know. “Yes, I am. ”

“Do you know where she went?” Why had she not gone with Andi? If it was my daughter, I wouldn't have left her side.

“I'm not familiar with the facility,” she said. “I'm sure Andrea will be back soon. When she's pulled herself together.”

“When she's—" I stared at this woman. She seemed more concerned with Andi's composure than her health or well-being. “Everyone in the arena saw what happened.”

Andi looked horrified. Embarrassed. My heart fucking ached for her.

“I'm aware of that,” Andi's mother said. “It was unfortunate timing.”

“It's much better to choke and almost die when there's not a camera on you,” I said sarcastically. Was that all she gave a shit about? That the whole world might see what happened? That millions of people would watch the footage and be talking about it?

Worse, they might only show the handful of moments when Andi had her mouth around the Frank. Knowing the Internet, they'd turn that into a meme in about thirty seconds flat.

This whole thing was bullshit.

“If you think I don't care about my daughter—" Mrs. Welling started .

“If you cared, you'd be looking for her right now,” I said.

I gave her a scathing look before turning on my socked feet and marching back out the door. If Andi was still in the building, there was one place I might find her.

I didn't bother with the elevator, I headed straight for the stairs, taking them two at a time before I reached the level that held the executive offices. I thanked past me for keeping my key card in my pocket, because I needed it to swipe into the corridor at the very back of the building.

“Andi?” I called out. “Are you in here?” I trotted down toward her office and swiped my card to open the door.

At first, I thought the office was empty, then I saw her sitting on the leather couch under the window, her face pale in the light that came from the parking lot. Her cheeks were damp, eyes shining. On her lap was a plate with a half eaten hotdog on it.

“Hey,” I said softly. “You okay?”

She sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Yes. No. I don't know. You saw what happened.”

I eased myself down beside her. “Yeah, I did.”

“So did everyone else,” she added .

“They all got an impromptu crash course in what to do if someone's choking,” I said lightly.

She snorted softly, then blew her nose. “I guess it wasn't all bad then.”

I placed a hand on her thigh. “People eat hotdogs every day. There's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“People don't end up on a big screen every day,” she said with a sniff. “As though I was trying to blow the Frank. I'm never eating a sausage again.”

My sausage might have let out a whimper of disappointment at hearing that.

“You shouldn't let one dumbass with a camera put you off eating sausages,” I said. “If you like eating sausages, then I think you should eat all the sausages you want.”

“Lowball Bay is known for its world-class sausages,” she said with a hint of wistfulness.

“So I've heard,” I said, barely managing to hold back a smile. “You wouldn't want to deprive yourself of that sausagey goodness, would you?”

“I suppose not,” she agreed.

My sausage cheered. My meatballs might have joined in.

I stroked the back of my hand down her smooth, damp cheek. Wiped away tears and brushed back her hair. “I was worried about you. When I saw you up there and realized you couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe either. I couldn't do anything but watch. I've never felt so fucking helpless in my life.”

She leaned into my hand. “I don't think I have either.”

“You're not referring to the choking, are you?” I asked gently.

“I am, but not only that,” she replied. “When I was looking back at myself, with a mouthful of sausage, I realized I'd always be under the microscope. As long as I'm involved with the team, and while people think we're together, people are going to talk, and watch, and take photos and videos, and who knows what else. Everything I do is going to come under scrutiny because I'm a woman. Everything I do for the team, people will claim it's wrong, that I don't know what I'm doing. Some of the time, that'll be right, but the rest of the time I'll be acting on advice from those who know, or my own business experience. They think I'm going to fuck this up, but I'm not.”

“Of course you're not,” I said. “Haven't I been trying to tell you that? Maybe I haven't done a good enough job.”

“You might have, but I need to tell it to myself,” she said. “Because I need faith in myself to get past all the things people are going to say. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet.”

“What are you saying?” Why was my heart suddenly in my throat?

“I'm saying that I'm done taking on board all the things people think they know about me,” she said. “I'm done listening to opinions that don't matter. I'm done letting gossip and rumors and innuendos make decisions for me. If the Internet wants to talk about me, let them. If they want to suggest I like to practice giving blowjobs to sausages, I don't give a shit anymore. I'm going to do my job and live my life the way I want to.”

She looked over at me. Her eyes glittered in the light of dozens of streetlights. “I'm done fighting the way I feel about you. I care about you, Cam. A lot. If people have a problem with that, that's their problem. Not mine, not yours, not ours.”

My heart felt like it was sliding across the ice. Heading straight for the basket. With no goalie there to stop it from sliding straight on in.

“I care about you too, Andi Welling,” I whispered. “Welcome to the world of not giving a shit about what social media says. I'm sure my sister Alice will have a lot to say about it to both of us. Probably something along the lines of taking control of the narrative.”

“That sounds about right,” Andi said reluctantly. “I guess I'll have to come out and admit I like to eat sausages.”

My balls were suddenly twice as heavy.

I grinned. “I can see a hotdog eating session in my future. Possibly with the whole team.” That was very much something Alice would suggest. Reminding people that there was no need to sexualize eating anything. Except pussy, which I very much wanted to taste right now.

I leaned in and brushed my lips over Andi's.

“You should be downstairs, playing,” she said against my mouth.

I slid my hand higher up her thigh. “If you insist.”

She laughed. “That wasn't what I meant.” But she wasn't pushing me away either.

I took the plate from her and set it aside before wrapping my arms around her and pulling her until she was straddling my lap, facing me. My steadily growing erection was nestled right between the juncture of her thighs.

“I don't think Coach is expecting me back too soon.” I rolled my hips, rubbing my cock against her pussy, only our clothes between us.

“What is the boss expecting?” Her voice was already breathless. She pressed herself against me, grinding lightly.

“To feel good,” I said firmly. I kissed her again, more deeply this time, my hand on the back of her head, fingers tangled in her glorious hair. “You deserve to feel good.”

“You make me feel good.” Her hands were pressed against my chest, one right over my heart.

I slid one of my hands up the front of her sweater—blue this time, with the Sea Dragons logo, Ceecee on the front—and rubbed my thumb over her pebbled nipple.

She moaned softly. “Cam… If you keep doing that I'm going to…"

“Do it,” I whispered. “Come for me. I want to hear you.”

“Cam,” she whimpered my name and ground herself harder against me. “Oh my goodness, I?—"

She came apart right there, in my lap, rubbing her clit against my hardened cock. Her breath was a series of tiny little gasps and moans that were almost enough to make me lose my load in my shorts.

I barely managed to hang on until she was done, before rubbing her nipple a couple more times and kissing her delicious mouth.

“Now I can concentrate on playing,” I said. “After giving you that. The first of many.” I was certain of that. I wanted to take her in every possible way.

“But you didn't.” She glanced down at my shorts.

“Not yet,” I said. “That's something to look forward to.” I kissed her mouth and thought unsexy thoughts as I helped her to her feet.

Hand in hand, we started back down to join the rest of the world.