Page 24

R emi turned on the shower, making the water as hot as possible. Mrs. Keller’s house had been the worst she had seen in months. On top of the maggot infestation, she found the bathroom in a horrific state, as Mrs. Keller had stopped flushing her toilet well over three days ago—that was new, she had never done that in the past.

Some people had nothing to hold on to, so they held on to anything they could.

Remi thought of Max. He felt like something worth holding on to. He felt like something she didn’t want to walk away from or turn a blind eye to. And while she knew she was a stubborn person, she also knew she was filled with compassion and grace.

As the small bathroom began to fill with warm steam from the shower, Remi pulled out her phone and typed out a text to Max. She wasn’t ready to give up on him, and in her heart of hearts, she knew he didn’t want to give up on her either. She wouldn’t let him hide from her or let him ask her for everything and then take it away. She was in too deep, too invested, and she cared too much.

She was an idiot.

But at least she was an idiot with good intentions.

Remi:

Are you okay? You don't get to ignore me this time. No more passes. No more leaving me worried. No more hiding. Not from me. I won't allow it. Not after last night.

Setting her phone on the small shelf that hung above the toilet, she stripped off her clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket when what she really wanted to do was burn them. Stepping into the scalding water, she allowed it to wash away the lingering ick from the day, other people’s filth, and the reminder of her childhood trauma. Maybe if it was hot enough it could also wash away the feeling in the pit of her stomach that was Max Miller.

The water nearly burned her skin, and she willed it so. She lathered her soap and scrubbed her legs, her feet, her arms, her neck. She could almost feel the maggots dripping down her skin, crawling in her hair. Using her fingernails on her scalp, she dug into her flesh. She would never feel clean enough in this moment, and she knew it.

The water ran down the drain full of soap suds, carrying away her day’s hard work. It felt symbolic. It always did.

Her shower.

Her sanctuary.

It was where she washed away her sins and the sins of the others she carried every time she punched in their door code or knocked on their battered screen.

Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back, willing the hot spray of the water to relax her. Her body began to soften, the tight muscles around her shoulders eased, and the throbbing in her knees dulled.

She would be okay.

She took a deep breath and pressed her head against the cool tile when she heard a loud knock at her door, startling her. Turning off the water, she got out of the shower and quickly dried off before slipping on her robe.

The knock came again, this time louder.

“I’m coming,” she called out, rushing to the door, hoping she was right in guessing who it was, but also preparing herself to find an Amazon package to avoid any more disappointment.

She pulled the door open, and there he was, hair wet from a recent shower, wearing his Anaheim Condor’s sweat suit. It dawned on her that today was the day he went back to practice.

“Well?” she asked, her tone sharper and crueler than she had known herself to be.

His eyes darted up to meet hers. “I’m ready to talk,” he said, his voice low and defeated.

“No more passes?” she asked.

“No more passes, Remi.”

***

He followed her into her small space, the overwhelming calm he felt just being in her presence seemed unreal. How could just being around someone lift the weight from his shoulders with such ease, when only hours ago, in front of a net, his net, his team, and his coach, he had felt such immense pressure and an overwhelming sense of dread? He would never push her away again; his heart couldn't take it, and her heart didn’t deserve it.

“I just got out of the shower,” she said, hinting at her wet, blonde hair.

“Me too,” he said, hinting at his.

“Did you just come from…” She paused.

“Practice, yeah,” he said, finishing her sentence.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

“I was able to fake it,” he said.

She offered him a weak smile. “Fake it ‘til ya make it,” she said, her attempt at a joke.

“Or fake it until they find out the truth,” he said.

She took a step towards him, then hesitated, not getting too close. He didn't blame her, not after what he had put her through, not after the last few days, not after his silence.

“And what's the truth, Max?”

“The truth?” he asked, buying time.

“The truth.”

“No passes,” he affirmed.

“The truth , Max.”

“The truth is that I’m going blind, Rem.”

He watched her knees buckle at his admission. He watched her face, ever confident, ever strong, ever inviting, falter into something broken, confused, and sad.

He hated to see her like this.

“Remi?” he asked quietly, taking a step towards her, taking her hands in his.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Pretty sure,” he said.

“How sure, Max?” she asked, her voice shaken with a hint of denial in her tone.

“Remi, maybe we should sit down,” he offered, hinting at her couch. She did as he suggested, sitting down next to him, her body tense as they faced each other, panic on her face, worry on his.

“I went to see an eye doctor,” he offered.

“Okay. And?” she asked.

“And he saw something.”

“Something bad?” she asked.

“Yeah, Rem. Something bad,” he said.

“Like, like… cancer or…” she stammered.

“No, not cancer. He saw something in my retina. I had like, clumps or something,” he offered, not wanting to use the proper terms he knew by name after Google search upon Google search. Not ready to speak them into existence.

“And how do they fix it? When can you get treated for it?” she asked frantically.

“Remi,” he said softly, gently taking her hand in his.

“Max, stop,” she pleaded.

“Stop what?” he asked.

“Stop being so calm. It’s freaking me out.”

“Remi…”

“Just fucking tell me what we can do. I can drive you to your appointments. I can help.”

“Remi, I… it's not treatable. It’s hereditary. My dad …” He tried to find the words to explain.

“You spoke to your dad?”

“I found him, yeah.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he’d been waiting for me to call him. That he’s watched my hockey career, and he knew…” Max bit back his emotions, he wouldn't cry, not now. “He said he knew I would find him when I started to see the signs.”

“How? Why? What signs, Max? You never gave me any details. I don’t even know what any of this fucking means. Make it make sense, Max.”

“Remi, he’s completely blind. He has—”

“What? What does he have?”

“He has an eye disease. It’s called—'' Max had not spoken it out loud, not yet, not since his father had put a name to it, making it real.

“What's it called, Max? Maybe I can help you.”

“It’s called retinitis pigmentosa, my father has it, and from what the doctor saw, and lots of research, I’m certain I have it too. And the only thing you can do to help me at this point is to let me back into your life. I know I’ve fucked up, more than once. But please, let me look at you long enough to memorize the details of your face, because I won't be able to see them one day, and I never want to forget.”

She fell into his arms, and he welcomed her. He let his own stiff body relax into the weight of her.

“I don’t know what to say, Max,” she said, her voice no more than a faint whisper.

“Just say yes one more time.”

She looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot, tears streaming down her face. “I did that once before, Max, and you pulled away.”

“I won’t this time. I promise.”

“What am I saying yes to, Max? Tell me this time. I need more.”

“To everything.”

“What does that even look like?”

“I don’t know. I can hardly see my feet, you can't expect me to see the future,” he said, offering her a small, half smile.

Remi let out a soft chuckle amongst her small sobs. “Not a vision joke already?” she said, swatting his shoulders.

“If I don’t laugh about it, I’m afraid it might kill me.”

“Then I say yes. Fuck it. Yes, to everything. Part two. But don’t make me regret it this time.”

“I won’t. I want to be with you, Remi. I want to take care of you for as long as I can. I want to spend what time I have left with my vision seeing how beautiful life can be with you.”

“And hockey?” she asked, her voice breaking as she said it.

“Remi,” he pleaded.

“Pass?” she asked.

“No. Not a pass. No more passes, I promised,” he affirmed, bringing his hand to her leg, running it up her thigh. “Not a pass, just an, I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Okay, I can handle that,” she agreed.

“Remi,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face. “I need you to stop crying right meow , and I need you to show me to your room while I still have the courage to do what comes next.”

Remi wiped away her tears with a small smile before standing.

“And what comes next, Max Miller?” she asked, as he stood before her, his body massive next to hers, engulfing her space.

“I kiss you, of course,” he said.

“My closet isn't big enough, in case you were wondering.”

“No, I think this time I might like to do this on a bed.”

“But you always sleep on the couch,” she argued, and he was glad to have this version of her back, feisty and fun, and so damn confident and beautiful.

“I wouldn't mind changing that. Sleeping in a bed sounds more appealing with the idea of you there with me,” he said, leaning down to press his lips against her neck.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him towards her bedroom.

“I just realized I’ve never seen your room,” he said before entering.

She smiled up at him before pushing the door open, color spilling into his senses; pictures and books, the smell of fresh linen and lemon cleaner, her curtains blowing about, the ocean in the distance a reminder of how small they were in this big, terrifying world.

“I’m scared, Remi,” he said quietly standing across from her, unable to push away this fear buried deep in his chest, one he hadn’t vocalized until now.

“I know, Max. I know,” she said, running her hands comfortingly along his arms.

“I’m scared to lose my vision. That’s a given emotion, that’s to be expected. But the craziest part is that it’s not what scares me the most.”

“Tell me. Tell me what your biggest fear is so I can try and understand it. I want to know how to help you through this. And I want to do it with as much understanding and compassion as I can, while never having walked a day in your shoes.”

“I’m scared that I’m nothing without hockey. It’s been my entire identity my whole life. It’s all I know. It’s my only home and my only personality trait. I’m Max Miller, the goalie. I don’t know what I am if I’m not that guy. I’m terrified I’ll never be anything of importance once my career is gone.”

Remi closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around his body in a tight embrace. Her face pressed into the fabric of his shirt, her warm breath heating him there as she held him close.

“You are so much more than hockey and being a goalie. You are so much more, Max. Maybe you can’t see that in yourself yet, but I can, I have since the first day I met you. You’re a beautiful walking contradiction, and you have no idea how perfect you are. I want to walk beside you and hold your hand as you discover yourself, Max. I want to be there when you finally see your worth outside the arena, off the ice, without the pads and pucks. Because when you do, you’re going to absolutely shine in your self-discovery, I just know it. Your life has just begun, Max Miller, and I can’t believe I get to be a part of it.”

He pulled her face up to his and kissed her words into his existence. She was right, he was so much more, and this wasn’t the end of the line for him. If she was lucky to have him, what did that make him for having her ?

He couldn’t articulate his feelings, there were no words, but he could show her. He could make her feel good.

“Can I take off your robe?” he asked, and she nodded as she took a step back, allowing him space to pull the fabric away from her naked body.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, stopping just a beat to appreciate her form.

“Now you,” she said, hinting at his fully clothed body.

He pushed away his shoes and then his socks before looking up at her. “I’m very red,” he said as he blushed.

“Carpet matches the drapes?” she teased.

“Oh yeah,” he said pulling his shirt over his head to reveal the red hair that covered his chest.

Remi stepped forward, and at first, he thought she might run her fingers over the chest hair, but her smile faded and her hand gently traced across the tally marks that covered his ribs.

“Oh,” he said, “about those.”

“Max,” she asked, a concerned line on her brow, “what does this mean?”

“It’s every game I’ve lost in front of the net with the NHL,” he said, and he didn’t know why, but shame flooded him admitting that.

“Why?” she asked.

“That’s a good question,” he said. “A question I think I used to be confident answering, but now with you looking at every loss I’ve ever had eternalized on my skin in ink, I’m not so sure it was the healthiest way to go about losing.”

“Okay, but why tattoo your losses?” she asked again. “Help me to understand this.”

“I think I’ve always been so obsessed with losing that I never wanted to forget. I thought it held me accountable, and then, it became a bit of a superstition.”

“And did tattooing your losses on your skin ever stop you from losing the next time?” she asked, gently sweeping a finger across the raised lines of ink.

“No, but it always made me want to fight harder for the win,” he said, suddenly feeling self-conscious of his stupid tradition, his weird superstition.

Fucking goalie nonsense was what it was.

As if reading his mind, Remi leaned in and kissed the ink-covered skin. Her lips trailed across each tally mark, each bundle of five losses, each black line until she had run out of losses to kiss. His skin warmed with her mouth on him, her understanding and reassurance in each kiss.

“Tonight, we focus on wins,” she said, pressing her fingers under the elastic band of his joggers before pushing them down along with his briefs. His need for her was evident in the way his hard cock sprung free the second his clothing was gone. Her eyes locked on to his erection, then moved back up to meet his with a wild grin on her face.

“And this,” she paused to hint at his cock, “is absolutely a win,” she said, looking back down at the size of him with satisfaction.

This made him laugh just a bit—she approved of his dick, which was always a win.

“I just have one request,” he said.

“Anything,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling their bodies together for their first taste of skin-to-skin friction.

“Can we leave the lights on? I just really want to see you like this.” Before I can’t, he thought.

“Absolutely. I want to see you like this too,” she said and blushed a rosy pink to his red.

“I’m not too red and hairy for you?” he teased, a minor insecurity he had growing up.

“Your body,” she said reaching down between them to give him a firm stroke, “is incredible, Max. I want to memorize every freckle on your shoulders.” Leaning in to kiss him there, she said, “I want to watch your face blush as you enter me for the first time.”

He knew he wouldn’t disappoint her there, because if his face was blushing now, it was nothing in comparison to how red he would become once she was underneath him.

She lowered herself to the bed and he wasted no time finding his place between her legs. Their skin was electric in every place it touched, their breathing heavy, their hearts racing.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered.

“Hey, that’s my line,” he said, drawing his hand up her side gently, her skin reacting with goosebumps under his fingertips.

“I can’t believe you’re not an alien,” she teased.

His lips moved down to graze the firm deep pink of her nipple, the tickle of his beard causing her to giggle. “Who said I’m not?” he asked.

“An enigma for sure.” She moaned as his mouth sucked and pulled on her sensitive bud, causing her entire body to pulse and throb in the best way possible. “Max Miller, the motherfucking enigma,” she said.

His mouth pulled away from her breast, and the way the cool air replaced his warm lips was a beautiful sensation. Slowly dragging his mouth along the sensitive skin of her stomach, he let his lips, tongue, and beard stimulate her as he moved lower on the bed. Pressing kisses across her sharp hipbones, he loved the way Remi hummed sweet sounds as his hands pushed her legs apart to make room for him there.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and ran a finger up her entrance before pointing to her most intimate part, “ here ?”

Reaching down, she gripped his full head of beautiful red hair and encouraged him to do just that. He wasted no time. No gentle kisses, no moments leading up to it; there was only before his mouth was on her and after. He expertly pressed the flat of his tongue against her clit, applying pressure before latching onto her, causing her hips to buck against his face as he began to expertly suck, lick, and flick his tongue with unwavering rhythm before bringing his hand between her legs to help.

Remi’s head pushed back against the pillow as he slid a finger deep inside her. Gripping his hair tighter she forced his face against her wet entrance, and his dick wept against her comforter. She tasted so good; he couldn’t get enough of her. He pulled his finger away only to fill her with his tongue, her orgasm building as he used his thumb to rub her clit while he buried his face between her legs.

“This is so good,” she moaned, and he couldn’t agree more.

He was grateful his mouth was busy because he wouldn’t have known what to say if it wasn’t. He felt her legs begin to tremble as her thighs started to clench against him, holding him in place as he relentlessly fucked her with his mouth, his thumb never missing a beat against her clit.

“Max,” she called out, and this only made him work harder for her release. He wanted to come up for air with his beard covered in her arousal.

And then he felt it, the moment it all came to a head. The moment her body began to shake against her will, the way her entire sex pulsated against his mouth. She moaned a deep, beautiful moan. Her hands released his hair and she brought them to cover her mouth as she cried out his name over and over. “Max, Max, Max …”

The movement of his hands slowed, and he moved his fingers away from her sensitive clit as she came, but he didn’t move his face, not yet. He let her orgasm roll through her, loving the way he felt her body tremble against his face as he licked and kissed her through the best part.

Slowly, he pulled his face away as her body settled on the mattress below them. Climbing up to find his way beside her, he watched as she took a moment to recover.

“That was so good,” she said, looking over at his pleased face.

“I think I might have enjoyed it as much as you.”

She looked down at his erection and laughed. “I thought you meant you came on my sheets.”

“No, but I honestly could have,” he said.

She reached over and wiped his beard with her hand, unable to push back a girlish giggle. “Beards are new for me,” she said.

“Doesn’t help that I’m a messy eater,” he teased, and they both began to laugh.

It was the most comfortable Max had ever felt during intimacy.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

“Would you find it presumptuous of me if I said I did?” he asked.

“No. Would you find it presumptuous of me if I said I bought some a week ago just in case?”

Max laughed and looked over at her bedside table. “In there?”

“Yeah, you can grab one.”

He opened the small drawer and pulled out the new box of condoms, but not without noticing the packet of birth control beside it.

Safe was good.

He tore off a condom and began to open it when Remi took it from him.

“Can I do it?” she asked.

“You want to put the condom on me?” he said, a little taken aback—this was new.

She brought her finger to his nose, “Ding-ding-ding,” she said, then asked, “Is it weird that I want to?”

“Not weird. It’s hard to be weird in comparison to a goalie. Trust me. If I’m being honest, I think it’s sexy,” he admitted.

She took the condom and sat up in front of him, his face growing two shades darker as she slowly began to roll it down his length, his dick twitching at her touch.

“This might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced,” he said watching as her tan fingers pushed the slippery rubber down his cock.

“You have a really nice one,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you?” he said more as a question.

“You’re welcome,” she said, laying back down, pulling him with her.

“I’m not going to last long. I already know it,” he admitted.

“That’s ok. I’m just happy we’re sharing this moment.”

He lined himself up at her entrance and while he knew he was rather well endowed, Remi felt so small beneath him.

She pulled him down to kiss her, spreading her legs wider to make room for his body as he slowly pushed inside. Her walls tightened around him as he sunk in as deep as he could go. Remi’s eyes were set on him, watching him, loving him?

“I’m just going to take a second,” he said, pausing to enjoy the feel of her body stretching to fit him. He might come just from being inside her.

“Take all the time you need,” she said, kissing his neck.

Giving himself one more second, he gained his composure and then began to move, slowly at first. Their bodies adjusted quickly to this new way of connection, this intimate exchange; sweat-slicked skin, her hands on his back, and his lips gently kissing her neck.

“You fit so perfectly,” Remi whispered, and he couldn’t agree more.

He wanted to take it this slow, to memorize the way it felt the first time he was here, with his woman, all emotions laid bare, but his body craved more of her. His need to move overcame his desire for this slow, deep connection, so he let go of the matters of the heart and began to move with the rhythm of his need.

Pushing deep inside her, his thrusts became harder than they had been mere seconds ago causing Remi to grip his shoulders as a moan escaped her. His body moved with certainty and a need for her he had been wanting to act on since the day Remi’s finger first brushed across his. Pulling her legs up, Remi made more room for him to move without restriction and his rhythm quickened. It came easily and naturally, being with her like this. It felt like he had done this a million times with this woman, it was the best first time he had experienced.

His body was on fire, his orgasm closing in on him as everything tensed and ached for his release. He felt Remi’s body doing the same, her fingers now gripping at his back, her eyes intent on him, intent on their release.

“Max,” she cried out. “There, there, there,” she moaned, and he knew he was hitting all the right places, his momentum unwavering as his body pushed into hers again and again. With the sound of their skin smacking together, their quickened breaths, and their inaudible words mixed with the distant roll of the ocean, he knew he was done for.

Remi’s body suddenly tensed under his weight, her legs wrapping around him and her eyes slamming shut as she cried out. He knew she was there, and he wanted to join her. Thrusting into her one last time with all he had, he held her body tight against him as he came.

Before pulling away, Max leaned down and kissed the small smile on her face, and then her left dimple.

“I remember the first time I saw that dimple,” he said, lying on his back next to her as they both caught their breath.

“That dimple is for strangers,” she said, looking over at him in the bright lights of her bedroom.

“So, what did it mean when you showed me both?” he asked.

“The second dimple, that one is for friends, family, or lovers.”

“And what am I?” he asked.

Remi rolled over to face him, both dimples present. “You are all of the above, Max Miller.”

He leaned over and kissed her properly. They were in her bed, naked, and they were safe. He was safe. This was absolutely what home felt like.