Page 38

M ax was sitting on the beach, with a box of donuts, half glazed twists, half maple bars, with Remi at his side. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay... with time. He knew speaking his truth out loud to his teammates would be hard, maybe the hardest words he would ever say in his lifetime, but he could do it with this woman by his side. Playing the words over and over in his head, he thought about how he would tell the team, wondering how they, the media, and the fans would respond.

“So, the night is young and I’m in the market to distract you from hockey shit,” Remi said, playfully bumping her leg against his. “Blow job perhaps?” she joked.

“I won’t say no to a blow job.” Max blushed. “But that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind if I’m being honest.”

“Okay, so what did you have in mind, and I swear my ego isn’t bruised that you’re not constantly thinking about me blowing you,” she said playfully with a wink.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t constantly thinking about you blowing me, my brain is 98 percent you blowing me, 1 percent hockey, and the other 1 percent ‘oh shit I’m going blind,’” he teased.

“At least I know I can keep your brain distracted.”

“You’re the best distraction, Rem. I feel like you came into my life right when I needed you,” he admitted.

“I don’t think I knew just how lonely I was before you . As a kid, I never made friends because I was so afraid they would find out about my mom, and that just kind of carried on into adulthood. I’ve just been filling my time with work and caring for others. I didn’t know I needed a Max Miller in my life.”

“Black briefs and punk music,” he said.

“The perfect start to any relationship,” she agreed.

“Speaking of punk music, that’s kind of what I was thinking we could do tonight.”

Remi threw the last bite of her second donut back into the box. “You want me to start a punk band with you?” she asked.

“No.” He laughed, and he couldn’t push back the image of him on stage, all redheaded and sweaty, playing a bass guitar. “I was thinking more along the lines of you showing me new things to fall in love with. All I’ve ever known is hockey. Train, eat, sleep, play, repeat. But if I don’t have a backup plan, I’m afraid I might get depressed. I’m going from living a very structured life to retirement. I think it might be a big adjustment, and I have no idea what else is out there that I might like. I remember that day, when you woke me with your music, being a little annoyed, and a lot embarrassed, but I also remember feeling excited, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, about the music you played that day. I think it might be something I could get into.”

Remi’s body language perked up at the mention of this, of exploring new things together.

“Max, the world is so big and so full of wonderful things to discover, not only will I single-handedly introduce you to all the best bands, but I will also take you to see them. There’s so much good music here in Southern California. So many amazing small venues to see shows. This is going to be so fun,” she said, doing a bit of a happy dance.

“What else can you introduce me to?” Max asked.

“Blow jobs?” Remi teased.

“Yes, that too. But what else is out there, Rem? What am I missing? What do I need to see and do before this gets bad?”

He watched as she thought this through, her eyes out on the ocean, her brain ticking away, making a list, he could see it all on her beautiful face.

“I think we should just live freely and do as you asked me to do; I think we should say yes to everything. That’s the only way we won’t miss out on something you might love.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“So, what’s the first thing we should say yes to, Max Miller?” she asked with an all-knowing raised eyebrow and a sexy grin revealing not one, but two dimples.

He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss, his eyes laced with something devious.

“There’s only one right answer and you know it,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

“Blow job?” she asked, yet again, but this time it wasn’t a joke.

“Yes, please.”

Remi shot up from the sand, gripping his hands in hers as she helped him to his feet before she took off running towards his house.

“Wait, the donuts,” he called after her. She swung around and ran back to grab them without missing a beat, the smile on her face wild and playful.

“Let’s go,” she said with the pink box tucked under her arm, the poor donuts didn’t stand a chance, “We have yes shit to do.”

They ran all the way to his house, a trail of heavy footprints in the sand leading them there.

The second they entered through the back door Remi was on him in the most beautiful way. Her hands slipped under the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up his body, her mouth following the happy trail of red hair that led to his chest as she lifted his shirt over his head. Her mouth was wild on his. Heavy, hot kisses pressed against the muscles of his chest before she moved to his ribs, kissing the tattooed tally marks.

She looked up at him through hooded eyes. “No more losses. Just wins,” she said.

Yes, this was definitely a win; this woman here with him, her mouth on him, hands fumbling to unbutton his jeans.

His dick begged to be free, and his brain was far too scrambled with anticipation to do anything but watch as his pants came undone. She pushed them down with rushed hands before they got caught on his thick thighs, a goalie blessing and curse. While he took over undressing himself, Remi wasted no time getting to work on her own clothes. In one swift movement, her shirt came off, leaving only a thin lacy bralette underneath cupping her small, beautiful breasts, the deep pink of her nipple showing through the delicate pale blue fabric. She pulled the bralette off next, exposing her breasts, her body gloriously on display in front of him.

Before she could remove any more clothing, Max pulled her into his naked body, and in one swift movement, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. A scream of laughter escaped her as he began to carry her to his room; her ass only covered by a matching pair of lacy blue panties sat gloriously close to his face. He couldn’t help but press his mouth to it and playfully bite her, panties and all.

“Max Miller put me down,” she cried out, laughter still carrying through her every word.

“No way. My brain said carry this woman to your bed , and my heart said, yes, absolutely do that . And we’re doing yes shit, are we not?” he asked.

“We are,” she agreed through fits of laughter.

“Then I think this is a fuck yes.”

They made it to his room, Remi still squirming in his arms as he flung her onto his bed gently before falling to his knees before her, gripping her ankles and yanking her down to the edge of the mattress.

“Ummm, this is not what a blow job looks like, Mr. Miller,” she said as he pulled the pale blue lace from her body in one swift motion before bringing a finger to her nose, tapping it three times.

“Ding-ding-ding,” he said, making Remi laugh at him stealing her signature move. “This is a taste test,” he said nonchalantly.

Remi laughed and watched as he trailed kisses down her body, pausing to pull her nipple into his mouth. “A taste test?” she asked incredulously.

“Yeah, trying to figure out what I like more, maple bars, or your come all over my face.”

This made her chest blush and her smile fade into something sexy and needy. “Max Miller,” she moaned as he sucked on her sensitive nipple, “and you said you weren’t good with words.”

“I’m not good with words, but I’m great with my mouth.”

He fell between her legs, pushing them wide open as he knelt before her. The bright red of his hair glowed against the warm tones of her tanned skin as he pressed his nose along the entrance of her sex, causing a giggle to escape her.

“Your beard,” she said.

“Tickle?” he asked.

“Mmmmhmmm,” she moaned as he nuzzled his face against her inner thigh before bringing his mouth down to kiss her there. “This was not what I had in mind,” she said.

“I can stop,” he offered, looking up from between her legs.

Remi sat up on her elbows and looked down at him, a wild smile on her face. “No, no, finish what you started, by all means. No one likes a quitter,” she teased, and immediately after she said it— quitter —she felt her stomach drop as he recoiled away from her.

It all happened so fast, the mood shifting all around them in the blink of an eye. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving him a moment of vulnerability, allowing him to hide his face away from her gaze.

“Max, I’m sorry. I need to choose my words more wisely. I know that. I was just being snarky, and you were so sexy, and it was just so playful. I didn’t stop to think.” She paused, going silent, and she hated that she had ruined this moment.

He looked up at her after a moment of silence, trying to convince her with his half-smile that he was okay. Maybe he wasn’t fully okay in this moment, but he would be, eventually. He wouldn’t be this hard to handle, this sensitive, this fragile forever.

It wouldn’t be this hard forever.

“I don’t want you to have to choose your words wisely around me,” he said, pressing up to kiss her neck, “I just want you to say whatever you say, and if it triggers something in me, I just need you to do this . I just need you to do exactly what you’re doing right now.”

“Holding you?” she asked reluctantly.

“Helping me feel safe enough to be vulnerable. Helping me to live through this unashamed. Because I can’t push these heavy emotions away. If I do, they’ll just fester inside me until I explode.”

“I’ll always be safe, I promise,” she said, pulling him up to sit next to her on his bed, both completely comfortable in their nudity.

“I killed the mood,” he said sadly.

“ I killed the mood,” she argued.

He took her hand in his and brought it up to kiss it. “Can we try for a different mood? Just for a little while. Just until I can get my head in a better place. Can this be a to-be-continued kind of thing?”

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

“I was thinking you could show me some of your favorite music.”

Remi’s smile grew wide, the awkward moment fading with ease. “Should we stay naked?” she joked.

“Do cat ears count as clothing?”