Page 20

Twenty

NAT

“I’m pretty sure Zamboni’s posts are getting even more attention than your shirtless ones!” I call from the couch, grinning while I scroll through the Clipper app. Everyone is completely in love with the Vipers’ newest little mascot and the videos of him running around the ice or pretending to run concessions or up in the broadcast booth with a headset on are getting mega views. I reach out and pet the lump of fur currently snoozing on my feet. He thumps his tail happily in his sleep and I grin.

AJ comes back into the room and hands me a beer, eyeing the couch where there’s no room left for him thanks to the way Zamboni is sprawled out, and settling into the chair to my left instead.

“Speaking of: you haven’t been posting those so much lately.” I quirk a brow in question.

“Oh, yeah. Well…I kind of thought you’d be upset if I did?” I laugh at that and his brow furrows.

“I won’t be upset,” I assure him. He gives me a very dubious look. “I swear. For one, it’s like your thing, you can’t stop that now just because we’re together. You’re extremely sexy and that should be shared with the world,” I shrug. “Plus, well…I dunno, it’s kind of hot to see all these people out there thirsting over you but knowing that you’re in my bed. Or, well, I’m in yours technically I suppose since we usually stay here, but, yeah.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“What?” I ask, throwing up my hands.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re fucking with me or if this is some kind of test. Like a boyfriend test that I really don’t want to fail.” I laugh at that and ease out from beneath Zamboni’s head. He opens one eye to squint at me, but I scratch his ear and he lays back down happy enough. I set my beer down on the side table and slide into AJ’s lap, straddling his waist while I drape my arms over his shoulders. He gives me a low, appreciative hum, running his free hand over one thigh.

“No tests. No tricks. I’m serious. If you want to keep posting them, do it. Every like and comment just fuels my little ego knowing that I have what they want. What they get to fantasize about, I get to touch and taste. It’s probably a fucked up way to look at it, but it’s the truth.” I shrug. It’s true. I mean, it’s human nature to have what other people covet, right? It’s why we buy expensive cars and watches and purses.

He sets his beer to the side and slides his hand to my nape, pulling me to him for a slow, lazy kiss that makes my pulse race and my toes curl. There’s a promise of pure fire beneath that kiss, the vow that it will burn out of control soon enough. We’ve honestly been fucking like rabbits since we started this thing and I can’t say that I’m mad about it. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had plans for me all over the house. We even made a legit list one night—alcohol may have been involved—and have it taped up beside the dresser in the bedroom. We’ve marked off about a third of it and though there are a few that I’m really not quite sure are even physically possible, it’s a hell of a sexy, fun game making our way through the list.

He runs his hand up my thigh and over my side, slipping his fingers beneath my shirt as he moves his hand higher over my bare back. I shiver at his touch, little sparks of desire dancing over every inch that his skin touches mine. He tilts his head and deepens the kiss, still keeping things slow and measured, but there’s command and dominance in the way he controls the kiss. It’s going to be one of those nights then , I think with a grin. Sometimes, he’s in complete control and I’m all too happy to surrender to him, letting him do anything and everything he wants. Others, he wants to relax and let me call the shots. Sometimes it’s hot and heavy and frenzied. Others slow and sweet and passionate. He’s showed me new tricks that make me wet just to think about, and there are times when the way he looks at me, I would swear it’s like I’m the only woman he’s ever seen or can remember.

He kisses down my neck and I tilt my head back to give him better access. He knows exactly where to flick his tongue or graze his teeth to drive me wild.

“We…haven’t hit the garage yet…” I gasp when he sucks gently at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure through every inch of me.

“Mmm, I could be persuaded…”

My phone rings then and I groan. I glance over and see that dad is calling me. I haven’t spoken to him since our fight at the restaurant, though we did exchange Merry Christmas texts. I’ve been trying really hard to find it in me to forgive him, and I think I mostly have, but that doesn’t mean that we’re on good terms. I sigh and turn my head back to meet AJ’s eyes.

“I should answer,” I sigh.

He kisses me quickly. “Go head, babe. We’ve got all night…”

The promise sends a little shiver down my spine but I reluctantly ease off of him and grab my phone.

“Hello.”

“Oh, hello, Natalie. I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”

“Well, I did,” I say. I wander towards the back of the room to the wall-to-wall glass doors and stare out into the woods, the mountains far in the distance just hulking shadows right now in the darkness. “Look, dad, I’m tired of being mad at you. I know you didn’t mean to say what you did about mom.”

“I didn’t and I’m sorry, Natalie. I was frustrated and it didn’t come out right at all.” I nod to myself, knowing that if dad is apologizing he actually means it. It doesn’t happen often.

“I know. And I’m over it now but I need to know if you’re past the rest of that conversation. I need to know if you’re ready to accept that my life is my own, and stop belittling the things that make me happy for fuck’s sake. I need to know if you’re ready to drop this job thing.”

“I’m…not, no. Not entirely.” I sigh and see in the reflection that AJ standing in the middle of the living room behind me, arms crossed and looking tense.

“Then I’m not ready to have a relationship with you right now. I’m not mad. I don’t hate you. I love you, dad, despite all of our bullshit, I do, but I’m not going to have a relationship with you if you can’t accept me and my life as they are, if you can’t…love me for who I am instead of who you want me to be. And I’m not sorry for that. I’m happier than I have ever been, and if you can’t see that and be ok with it, then I’m ok not having you be a part of that happiness.” Tears prick my eyes, but I won’t back down from this. I’ve given it way too much thought in these weeks since our fight, since Shep and Hattie almost died, since I started things with AJ and I’ve been so fucking happy that I feel like my heart may literally break from it.

And I knew that this might be his answer. I prepared myself to have this conversation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell to have him actively choose not to be a part of my life. I don’t think he’s doing it out of malice or spite, it’s just the way he is. He’s used to getting what he wants and knowing more than anyone else in the room. He’s one of the top guys in the industry for a reason. He’s confident and sure and isn’t used to being told no or not having his requests—or demands—met. So, I don’t blame him, exactly, but I won’t just roll over or look past it. Not this time. Not anymore.

“Natalie,” he says, and I can hear exasperation in his voice, but a bit of pain too. He knows I’m not joking and I guess it counts for something that he cares enough to be wounded by it, but it doesn’t bother him enough to just swallow his pride and let this notion that I’m going to follow in his footsteps and carry on the family legacy go. So, this is where we are.

“Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be here dad. Love you.” With that I hang up, not waiting to hear if he says it back. I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the cool glass. A second later, strong arms wrap around me from behind and AJ rests his chin on my head.

“You alright?”

I sigh and turn in his arms, snaking my hands up his chest and around the back of his neck.

“I am, actually. I’ve thought through all of this a lot and until he can accept my life as-is and understand that he doesn’t get to make decisions for me anymore, then we aren’t going to have a real relationship. It sucks since he’s all I have left, but this is what’s right for me. Sometimes you have to draw lines even when they fucking hurt.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” he says. “That has to be hard as hell and I don’t know if I’d have the balls to do it if I were you, honestly.”

“Lucky for you, you’ll never have to. Your parents are proud of you no matter what you decide to do.” I start a list. “Fail miserably at musical theater, become a star hockey player, reign as Seattle’s biggest slut for what is it now? Almost ten years running?” I squeal when he starts to tickle me. I try to break free from his grip but all those hours at the gym have done him good and I’m powerless.

“Think you’re soooo funny, don’t you, Natalie…” He freezes and cocks his head. “I just realized I don’t know your middle name. I can’t scold you properly without a middle name.”

“Celeste,” I say breathless. “Natalie Celeste.”

“Pretty,” he says before that wicked gleam shines in his blue eyes again and the torture resumes. “Think you’re soooo funny, don’t you, Natalie Celeste Morgan?” I can hardly breathe around the laughter, tears running down my cheeks, and finally he stops, sweeping me up in one smooth motion. He tosses me over his shoulder in that weirdly attractive semi-caveman kind of way.

“Time to teach you some manners.”

“Ok, we have a problem. Def Con One. Or Five. Whatever the bad one is, I don’t fucking know.”

Bobby snorts into his beer and Hattie grins, biting into another onion ring. The guys are gone for a three-city string of away games, and though I’ll admit that I miss AJ more than I thought I would after just a couple of days, the sexting and videos have kept things very entertaining.

“Both of you shut up and help me please.”

“Ok, ok, what’s the problem?” Bobby asks. “Is your insanely attractive boyfriend giving you too many orgasms with his giant di—” Hattie busts out laughing, cutting off the end of his sentence.

“Why am I friends with you again?” I ask, throwing an onion ring at him. “And don’t be jealous that I’m getting some finally.” His face falls for the briefest of seconds and a swift jolt of guilt punches me right in the gut. I knew that he and Mystery Guy from a couple of months back didn’t turn into anything, but he’d said it was fine, that he didn’t care and it was just a stupid fling anyway. So, why the flash of hurt in his eyes? I don’t want to pry, but if it was more than that and he’s been upset all this time, I hate that he didn’t think he could tell us. We’ll be diving more into that soon, maybe after a few more drinks.

“Ok, seriously, what’s the problem?” Hattie asks, regaining her composure.

“The V word is the problem.”

Bobby purses his lips.

“Venereal Disease? Do you need to go to the doctor?” I press my lips into a thin line and he grins widely. “Ok, I’m done, I promise. V word…ohhhh, Valentine’s Day?”

“Yes, that one. I’m not sure how to handle it?”

“What do you mean?” Hattie asks, brow furrowed.

“Did you already forget that until very recently, a certain star center was allergic to relationships and all things love-related? And I haven’t told him yet, but I am already very much in love with the idiot…”

Hattie gasps and jumps up and down in her seat. I smile but roll my eyes.

“As if you couldn’t tell already.”

“Well, yeah, it’s pretty damn obvious actually,” Bobby agrees, “but it’s nice to hear you admit it out loud.” I kick him in the shin under the table and he grunts before laughing.

“Well even without admitting it to him out loud yet, I don’t want him to feel pressure or freak out about Valentine’s or anything.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Bobby asks, taking another sip of his beer. He seems tense and I worry again that whatever happened with him and Mystery Guy left him feeling some sort of way, and talk of the holiday centered around love isn’t helping.

“He brought it up the other day and it was adorably awkward. Out of nowhere he just goes “Valentine’s. We…do that, right?” I had no idea how to take that so I just said “sure” but then he got his concentration face on and I’m worried he’s thinking he has to go all out or something. And he so doesn’t. I don’t even really care about the stupid holiday other than the half-priced candy the day after. I mean, no hate to anyone who likes it. In theory, it’s nice that there’s a day dedicated to love and all of that, but…I dunno. Maybe I’m just cynical.”

Hattie gives me a crooked smirk.

“You’re talking to the girl who hated Christmas up until a month ago. I’m the queen of cynical when it comes to holidays and expectations that go with them. But that being said, it’s actually nice as hell to put all that stuff aside and just enjoy the days for what they are: a time to be with the people you care about and be grateful that they exist. Or, ya know, didn’t get murdered by a psychopath in my living room when said psychopath tried to kidnap me.” She hikes a shoulder when Bobby and I both give her level looks. “What!? I can’t joke about it?”

“Too soon, Hads. Too fucking soon,” Bobby says shaking his head. He’d been so upset that he hadn’t been here for all of the crazy and to help out afterwards. He’d felt like he let us all down or something even though we assured him a thousand times that he was where he was supposed to be: visiting his family for Christmas. Which is literally the point Hattie is making right now.

“So ignoring that totally fucked up comment,” I say, giving her a pointed look that only makes her smile bigger, showing off her damn dimples that I’m only a little bit jealous of, “I’ll make sure he knows there’s no pressure but will go with the flow on whatever he decides to do. But, uh, any suggestions on what to get a guy for Valentine’s Day?”

“You in lingerie,” Hattie and Bobby both say at the same time. They look at each other and crack up and I take a long drink, though my wheels are turning. AJ is particularly fond of lingerie…