Page 8
Arden
First official home game in the books, which means it’s now time for the first official post-game dog walk.
Bear’s least favorite.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I fuss while reaching for his harness that’s dangling on the key hook beside the front door. “Off-season is over.”
Bear turns his face up towards the ceiling on an unhappy woof.
ForFuhrssake, I get it.
He wants to be in bed.
Legs over my legs.
Chewing on his bedtime bone listening to me chirp the announcers on STN or quoting A Knight’s Tale to sleep.
I want that too!
But if I don’t walk him now to burn a little excess energy, he’ll invite himself into the backyard to run chariot race circles at two in the morning and nobody likes that.
It sounds a lot like a fucking Jumaji cut scene.
And that’s with only one good ear.
Can’t imagine what it would be like with two.
“It’s not my fault.” Slipping the object over his neck occurs next. “I had to conduct a post-game interview with Tanner.” A cringe escapes as I lower myself to a squatting position. “Frosky.” Another wince slips loose during my clicking them into place. “ Snowman. ”
Bear shoots me a shifty side eye that results in me flashing him my middle finger.
I don’t need my dog giving me lip.
It was bad enough getting it from Khurana when he caught my eyes hungrily wandering across Tanner – er – Frosky – shit – Snowman’s – nailed it – sweaty shirtless frame.
I don’t know what he expected from me!
This beautifully tanned, blond haired, blue eyed, muscular Hercules knock off with script that literally translates to “ice warrior” chiseled into his toned flesh was just leaned back, legs slightly spread, spewing all sorts of glory about how incredible his teammates are versus himself, and I couldn’t look away.
It was like someone turned on porn.
Like good porn.
Like well written, well directed, high production value, gonna win The Cup of porn awards level of porn.
One minute I was contemplating about what to eat when I got home and the next, I wanted to be what was eaten when he got home.
Unfortunately for me, I must’ve let a whimper or moan or an airy curse word slip because the next thing I knew Khurana was disapprovingly clearing his throat and Snowman was smirking.
Ugh.
The jolly happy soul having bastard.
“We’ll make it a quickie,” I promise in tandem with reaching for his leash.
Bear woofs again in refusal.
“I’ll play your favorite Shakira songs.”
He woofs even faster than before.
“Get bent,” leaps loose alongside the attaching of his leash. “This is what’s happening. It’s non-negotiable.”
Immediately afterward, I open the door, unexpectedly revealing the very person I was blaming for my tardiness, looking downward at my dog. “Good to know she talks to you like that as well.” Rather than wait for a reaction from me, Bear instantly takes an aggressive stance and begins growling. “ Seriously, Yogi?” He lets his head playfully fall to one side. “You saw me three times last week, and now three times this one.”
Okay.
I don’t love hearing how often I’ve let him come over.
Or how often I’ve let him come into my house where he conducts ancient sorcery better known as cooking.
Or how often I’ve let him onto my couch where we may fall asleep to old movies while Bear defensively sleeps between us.
It’s much easier to deny that we’re even broskies when there isn’t an actual timeline that can be used as evidence, so fuck him for revealing it.
And double fuck him for being so much fun to be around that we have one.
“Shouldn’t we be on better terms by now?” Tanner – um – Frosky – forfuckssake – Snowman teasingly scolds. “At least in the greetings department?” When Bear’s protective snarling doesn’t decrease, he dramatically sighs. “Fine. Queso. ”
Confusion quickly cakes my complexion.
“Um… guacamole .”
The expression deepens.
“ Salsa? ”
Light laughter precedes my head shaking. “Stop ordering fajita toppings from my dog and tell me why you’re on my doorstep.”
“I was trying to remember his codewords.”
“ Commands. ” Adjusting Bear’s leash in my grip precedes delivering a sharp tug that indicates for him to heel as well as cease growling, which he instantly does. “And he doesn’t listen to them from just anybody. He’d be a shit guard dog if that were the case.”
Tanner doesn’t hesitate to cockily grin. “Good thing I’m not just anybody then.”
Bear mumbles woofs in agreement causing me to twitch a glare.
Still.
I still don’t need his lip.
“You’re about to be a very chewed somebody if you don’t quickly explain why you’re here at my front door ordering sides like you’re at a drive through window.”
His hands casually slide into his sweatpants pockets. “I’m here for a post-game celly.”
Irritation over the idea he thinks I’m gonna give him some sort of victory mouth hug fuses with irateness regarding the puck bunny label he’s mistakenly branded on my ass prompting me to coldly chomp, “ What? ”
“Walk. Wings. Wrath of the Titans. ”
My shoulders instantly slump towards the ground on a softer, “ What? ”
“We’ll walk Bear – I know he needs one last outing for the night – order wings from Wing Warriors – they have a new bourbon flavor I’m dying to try – and see how far we can get through Wrath of the Titans – although I am open to other film considerations. It is – admittedly – not one of my favorites.”
“But…Greek Myths.”
“Greek Gossip Girl .”
Yet again, it’s impossible not to giggle. “This from the stud that spent twenty-two minutes correcting everything STN ‘ misreported’ about training camps?”
“That was not gossip ,” Tanner argues, obviously trying not to grin. “That was simply me fact-checking. ”
An amused eyebrow lift is all he’s given.
Yeah, not so sure learning who was fighting off the clap was a crucial part of injuries that needed to be discussed; however, I will admit, I’m even more unwilling to hook up with players considering the eyebrow raising amount of STDs they’ve apparently got in their stats.
“Shouldn’t you…be…like…cellying with the boys?”
“I’m right where I wanna be, Ducky,” informs Tanner without missing a beat.
“ Stop calling me that ,” I hiss on a gentle push forward, needing him to back up towards the grass.
“You like it.”
“I despise it.”
“You adore it.”
“I barely tolerate it.” The door clicks closed behind us. “A lot like you.”
“You’re so full of shite,” chuckles the white t-shirt wearing male across from me. “And you know it.”
Bear immediately woofs in agreement prompting me to point a stern finger at him. “ Don’t forget who feeds you, bud. ”
“Pretty sure that was me on Tuesday because someone wanted seconds of their honey garlic chicken and cauliflower rice but didn’t wanna get up.”
“Your fault.”
“How is that my fault?!”
“For making magic in your cauldron.”
“Crockpot.” He tosses me another smug smirk. “Although noted that you think I’m magical.” Tanner bounces his eyebrows at me. “Perhaps magically delicious.”
“I would happily kick your ass off a rainbow.”
New rounds of laughter flood the night air during our descent down my driveway, yet upon our arrival at the end, near the trunk of his car, he reaches for the leash. “Let me hold it.”
Veering to the left is attached to me asking, “Why?”
“You hold mine. I hold his. It’s only fair.”
Giggles can’t be stopped, and neither can the transferring of the object.
Not that I want either to be stopped.
I…begrudgingly admit…I love how much he makes me smile.
And laugh.
And giggle like the schoolgirl I barely got to be.
I also really like that he seems to get Bear isn’t just any pet.
He’s the type you need the approval of if you’re planning to be around for the long haul.
Which he claims to be.
Too bad I’m not totally convinced this isn’t all some season-length strategy to simply get me into the sack.
Then again…I’m not… not convinced.
According to my mom if a man cooks for you, cleans up your dirty tissues when you’re sick, and picks up your dog’s shit, you might as well be expecting a marriage proposal sooner rather than later.
Except I don’t date hockey players.
Especially not ones accused of crashing some sorority girl’s twenty first birthday party when he was really just picking us up hot wings.
The somewhat prompted reminder pushes me to investigate his unpredicted presence. “Should you really be doing more cardio right now?”
“Yeah, I do not think walking Bear qualifies as cardio.”
On cue, my best fur-having friend shoots a scowl over his shoulder.
“That was not a challenge, mate.” Snickers swing back and forth between us. “No need to square off.” Bear whips his head forward leaving us to our conversation. “This is like stretching.” Our eyes find one another’s. “Which we all know is quite important especially after a game like tonight.” Joy rapidly rips through his gaze. “Can you believe we had a fucking shutout on our first home game?” Tanner doesn’t wait for a response. “Groffee is such a fucking beauty.”
“And you’re not?” I mindlessly chime back on a light elbow. “You almost had a hattie on game one.”
“I got lucky.”
“You got crafty .” Guiding us towards the trail that runs around the neighborhood creek smoothly occurs. “I haven’t seen a knee to ass to spread eagle bardownskie…probably… ever. ”
“That sounds like a sex act.”
“Proof an old dog can learn new tricks.”
“I do not like what you are implying whatsoever.”
“Speaking of tricks,” segueing is followed by a small smile, “wanna learn my favorite one to do with Bear post-game?”
An intrigued brow is cocked. “You want me to help train your four-legged companion?”
“No, I’m gonna help him train my two legged one.”
“At least I’m considered a companion.”
Post stealing a small, guilty bite out of my bottom lip, I gesture to the wooded area on our left. “We play hide and seek.”
Tanner lets curiosity kick the corner of his lip upward. “Alright…”
“First,” I state upon coming to a complete stop, “you have to let him know we’re going to play.”
“How?”
“Command him to a heel by delivering one sharp tug to his leash and saying ‘ Banco’. ”
The sparkling eyed star of the game repeats the phrase with enough force that Bear doesn’t hesitate to act accordingly.
“Now, you’re going to say eyes in Spanish to get his attention. Once you have it, you say ‘g-a-m-e time’. This helps him understand what we’re transitioning to. Give him a reward after he barks in acknowledgment.”
“Sounds easy.” I retrieve a training treat from my pocket, transfer it into his possession, and whisper the word in his ear. The instant I’m done, Tanner firmly states, “ Ojos. ”
Bear tosses what can only be described as a curious look upward.
“Gameeeeeee timeeeeee!!!!”
The loud woof noise being instantly delivered has the man I have no business being this into opening his palm for my dog to feast.
“Love it,” mutters Tanner in excitement. “Next?”
“Hide!”
“Hi-” is all that manages to escape prior to Bear taking off for the nearest tree.
Thankfully, the lunge forward is more comical than violent yet still rough enough I find myself worrying about an arm injury to the team’s highest score.
Pretty sure if us fucking could get me fired – not that I’m trying to bone him – then dislocating his arm definitely would.
Plus, that’s not a headline I wanna read, even if it does beat the trashier ones.
Lowering my mouth to check in on our best wing is unfortunately interrupted by Bear who thrusts his extra-large frame against the back of the tree where I “can’t” see him, an action that results in Tanner receiving a low hanging tree limb right in the face. “ Fuck! ”
Not wincing over the sight isn’t an option. “ You good, Tanner? ”
To my surprise, he shoots me a sweet glance. “I always am when you call me by my first name.”
Ignoring the way my heart thumps harder isn’t impossible.
Just improbable.
Yet necessary.
I can’t let myself fall for his shit like some sort of new to the game rookie.
I don’t date hockey players.
And they don’t really date anyway.
They fuck.
They fuck and forget you.
That’s their own off ice game.
I’ve seen it.
I know it.
I won’t be it.
Never again.
Especially not with the one who has my twin fiending for his affections like a bitch in heat.
“What uh…” he rubs at the sore spot, “what next?”
Post banishing the misplaced warmth, I rush towards them at the same time I shout, “ Seek! ”
At that, Bear pops out from around the corner, front limbs spread, body hunched down, tail waggling wildly in excitement.
“Atta boy!” I coo in tandem with tossing him a treat. “And now, I hide…” Disappearing around the next tree doesn’t take much effort. “And you…”
“Seek!” calls out Tanner, crossing the short distance over with Bear who repeats the previous movement in front of me.
Another reward is thrown in the air for him to catch. “Atta boy!”
“Our turn to hide… ” he rushes around to the next available tree to block him and his leash wielding side kick. “And you…”
Hustling over precedes me peering playfully around the manicured foliage on a dramatic, “ Seek! ”
This time when the treat falls into my pet’s mouth, Tanner finds my gaze to guarantee his words are heard as much as felt. “This old dog can learn new tricks off the ice too it seems.” He delivers a loving rub of approval to the top of Bear’s head, grin growing irresistibly sweeter. “ Especially for you, Ducky. ”