Page 6 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)

Chapter 6

"If You Could Only See"

Landry - Age 18, 1988

K erri Thatcher from somewhere near Austin, Texas. It turns out the girl I can’t stop thinking about is a new friend of Ivy’s. Every spare minute since I saw her yesterday was spent wondering about her—who she is, where she’s from, and if she’d be back at the farmer’s market this coming weekend. I had already been planning to go in the hopes of seeing her again, but it seems fate has already intertwined our paths.

I don’t think I’m the only one interested in spending more time together. She tried to act unaffected by me, but the way her cheeks flushed and her eyes went wide as saucers when she looked at me were a pretty big clue.

I played it casually, or at least I tried to, but I felt a rush of excitement when I saw her sitting underneath that tree. The truth is that Kerri stands out from all the other girls here. There’s a gentle grace about her, and the softness in her voice when she spoke to Paisley tells me she’s a kind and intuitive person. Plus, she moved here to help her grandparents, leaving behind everything she knew for their well-being. Not many people my age would do something so selfless. That only adds to her mystery, making me want to know her even more.

I now face the daunting task of not messing things up, which is easier said than done. I’m not as outgoing as some of my friends. I like to stay home and chill with my family more often than not. I’m not much of a party guy, so I wouldn’t say I “put myself out there” too much, which usually isn’t a problem. Girls around here have always been interested in me and my friends, mainly because we play hockey. So, I’ve always been able to sit back and let them approach me. I haven’t pursued a girl in a long time, and to say I’m rusty is an understatement. But I want to know Kerri better. Besides, being the odd man out has gotten old. Despite Sascha and Taz’s current animosity towards each other, it is only a matter of time before they move out of their way and see what is in front of them.

It’s time to try to push thoughts of Kerri Thatcher out of my head for two hours and focus on practice. The ice awaits us, and I need to be mentally prepared. I find a quiet corner by my locker to begin my hand-eye coordination drills. I like to challenge myself by juggling a few tennis balls, their fuzzy yellow exteriors bouncing and rolling in a hypnotizing rhythm. I’m a few minutes into the drill when Taz saunters over in nothing but his jock and starts stretching only a few feet away from me.

Taz does this kind of shit all of the time. He tries to initiate a rise out of me, but I’ve become pretty good at ignoring him. Honestly, he does me a favor with these irritating shenanigans. If I can handle what he throws at me, it only makes me better when I’m goaltending while opposing fans are yelling my name and trying to get in my head.

I can see Taz out of my peripheral vision, his bare ass to the sky, as he continues stretching and talking about some talent show nonsense. I can hardly be bothered to listen, but his enthusiasm is palpable. Suddenly, he changes the subject and I know I won’t be able to ignore his topic of choice.

“Hey, Landry,” he says playfully. “What’s the deal with Daisy Duke?”

I can feel my cheeks start to burn. “No deal,” I reply casually, hoping my voice doesn’t give away my interest. I furiously focus on the three yellow tennis balls in my hands, willing them to distract me from his teasing gaze.

“Didn’t seem that way to me,” he replies.

“Yeah?” I say, trying not to let my smile give away my thoughts. “How did it seem to you, Taz?”

“Seemed like you might be looking for a ride from a real-life cowgirl.”

My dick twitches at the image that flashes through my mind—her straddling me with that beautiful strawberry blonde hair framing her face. The tennis balls tumble to the ground at my feet and bounce in different directions.

“Oh, I think I’ve found Christian Landry’s kryptonite,” he chuckles.

Frustrated with myself and annoyed with him as usual, I pick up one of the tennis balls and throw it with all my strength as he bolts in the opposite direction. It hits him squarely on his bare ass cheek, eliciting a surprised howl. We all erupt into laughter, and I’m satisfied that karma has been served.

Two hours later I return home and find Paisley sitting at the dining room table drawing and coloring while Mom makes dinner.

When she sees me, she says, “Hey, honey.“ I reach for a banana, but she slaps my hand away. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, Christian,” she scolds.

“Ouch, Mom,” I reply and pull my hand back. “I’m starving.” I peel it and take a huge bite. “Trust me, it won’t ruin my dinner,” I mumble through the fruit in my mouth. After eating my banana in two bites, I wander over to the table. “Whatcha drawing, Pais?” I ask my sister.

She holds up her picture, and a slow smile spreads across my face. It’s a beautiful rendering of the vase of wildflowers on the table.

“This is great, Paisley,” I tell her. My sister is truly a gifted artist, turning the things she doesn’t put into words into images on paper.

She shoves the picture at me. “Is this for me?” I ask her, to which she shakes her head.

“For Mom?” She shakes her head wildly.

“Thanks a lot, Paisley,” Mom jokes from the other side of the kitchen counter.

“Who is it for then?” I ask.

She flips it over, and on the back, she draws a picture of a woman with reddish hair, blue eyes, and a wide smile.

I can’t help but grin. “You want me to give this to the lady who gave you the flowers?” I ask.

She nods.

“Well, guess what? I met her today. She goes to school with me.” Paisley’s eyes go wide with excitement. “Her name is Kerri.”

She grips the colored pencil in her hand and writes “C-A-R-E-Y” underneath the vase of flowers and looks at me expectantly.

“Sure,” I say with a shrug. “I’m not sure how to spell her name, but this is a good guess.”

She smiles proudly and shoves it toward me. I chuckle and take the picture. “I’ll give it to her tomorrow, okay?” The thing about my sister is that even without words, she communicates her needs and wants very effectively.

The next day I meet up with some of the guys in the parking lot before school. We’re standing around talking about nothing in particular when Taz pulls up with Sascha in the passenger side of his truck.

What the fuck?

As soon as they exit the truck, Ivy approaches Sascha and they chat for a minute or so before heading inside. Meanwhile, Taz saunters over to us.

“What’s up, boys?” He says casually. Delzy tilts his head in the direction where the girls are walking and raises his eyebrows in question.

“So, yeah. I live with Sascha Bell now,” he says, and then walks away, leaving us standing in place with our mouths gaping open. Now we have to sit through four periods of class wondering what in the hell is going on until lunch.

When the bell finally rings announcing lunchtime, Ivy and Sascha are nowhere to be found, so Taz, Delzy, and I head to a local place to grab some burgers.

We patiently order and then take our seats in a booth while Taz quietly sips on his milkshake, still giving us nothing, while dried blood darkens his split and swollen lip. Delzy and I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate on the bomb he dropped earlier this morning. Just before I’m ready to reach across and grab him by the shirt to demand answers, he starts talking.

“Brian stole all of the money I’ve been saving, and we ended up getting into a fight.”

My pulse quickens, and adrenaline floods my body, making my nerves jumpy. “He took everything?” I ask.

“Yep,” Taz replies, with an emphasis on the popping sound of the ‘p.’

“Did you win the fight?” Delzy asks, gesturing to Taz’s right eye, which has blossomed into a mottled purple and green bruise.

“Fuck, yeah, I did,” Taz says. “But he’s all messed up on coke, and my dad is never home, so it’s for the best that I don’t stay there right now.”

My muscles coil with tension as my molars grind together in frustration. Brian is Taz’s big brother. His job is to look after him and take care of whatever he needs. He’s always managed to fail at it, but stealing from Taz is going too far.

“I’m going to beat your brother’s ass,” Delzy threatens.

“No, you’re not,” I reply. “Because I am.” I’m not joking. If they think I’m being hyperbolic, they’re sadly misinformed. I have every intention of kicking that dude’s teeth in. I don’t engage in a lot of fights, on the ice or otherwise. As a goalie, I stay out of scuffles and do my job unless I’m needed. But Taz is like a brother to me—an annoying, shit-head-brother, but a brother nonetheless. He deserves a family who cares about him. I’m grateful the Bell family has taken him in. That is the best place he can be right now.

Taz shakes his head. “Neither of you are going to do shit. Do you understand?”

I lean back in my seat, cross my arms over my chest, and meet his stare.

“I’m serious, boys. It’s not worth it. I’m out of there. I want it to be done,” he explains. I understand his point, but it doesn’t stop the anger I’m experiencing.

“What about your dad?” Delzy asks.

“Haven’t heard a word from him,” he replies.

“Piece of shit,” I say under my breath.

“Look,” Taz replies. “I’ve made my peace with the hand I was dealt as far as family goes. It’s fine. They are both addicts. There’s no reasoning with them until they want to get clean. I’m lucky to have you guys and the Bell family helping me out. I don’t need anything else.”

“If you’re sure,” Delzy says. “But if they fuck with you, you better tell us.”

“I will,” he promises.

“So, what’s going on with you and Sash?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he replies with a shake of his head. I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for him to acknowledge the truth.

“I like her,” he admits. “I always have.”

“Longest. Foreplay. Ever.” Delzy chuckles.

“At least you’re finally admitting it,” I say. “But don’t mess around with her, Taz. She’s a good girl and a good friend of mine. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I have no intentions of hurting her.”

“Keep it that way,” I say.

“Calm down, Chewbacca,” he teases. “I know what I’m doing. Which reminds me, we’re going to the band concert next Friday night.”

“Why?” Delzy asks.

“Because it’s important to Sascha,” Taz says, and for the first time in forever, I see a glimmer of his affection toward my friend, which makes me relax and think maybe, just maybe, this might work out in the long run.

As we make our way back from lunch, my eyes catch sight of Kerri in her usual spot underneath the towering tree. It’s the first time I’ve seen her today and just the sight of her makes me smile.

She’s leaning back against the trunk, her head tilted slightly to the side as she listens to something on her Walkman, lost in her own little world.

“Hey, I’ll catch you guys later,” I call out to the rest of our group as I veer off towards her. I take no care in being quiet, not wanting to startle her like yesterday when she nearly busted out some Chuck Norris moves on Ivy.

I lower myself onto the grass beside her, enjoying its softness beneath my hands. Her eyes flutter open and she takes her headphones off. “Hey,” she says as a smile spreads across her face.

“Hey, you,” I reply. As she looks at me, I can’t help but admire her blue eyes and how they stand out against her pale, freckled skin. “Sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not,” she says with a small giggle, her voice like warm honey. “I need to quit taking naps under trees.” As she sits up, I notice her long, lean frame and the way the sunlight dances across her skin.

“That’s true,” I chuckle, taking in her confident posture. “Someone could pick you up and make off with you.”

“I’m 5‘7 and sturdy,” she replies, playfully flexing her muscles. “I can wrangle with the best of ’em.”

“Wrangle with what?” I ask with wide eyes.

“Just about anything on the farm,” she answers casually. “I’m tougher than a snake’s belly on a hot dirt road.”

I hold my stomach as I lean forward and laugh, and when I look up, she’s glaring at me. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I have no doubt you could play hockey on my team and kick everyone’s ass. It’s those moments when you ‘go all Texas’ that catch me off guard. I love it.”

“You do?” she asks, her tone warmer than before.

“Absolutely,” I reply. Just then, the breeze blows and catches her long hair, carrying the scent of coconut, which washes over me. I have to shake my head to stop from closing my eyes and leaning into it like some kind of creep.

I lean over to get a better look at the tape in her Walkman. “What are you listening to?” I ask.

“A mix of my favorite songs,” she says with a smile. “I like a little bit of everything, from AC/DC to Michael Jackson to Stevie Nicks to George Strait.”

“Me, too, except I’ve never listened to country,” I admit.

She cocks her head to the side. “Never?”

“Not really. I mean, I’ve heard a few things on the radio.”

“Well, you’re missing out, Landry,” she says. “We might need to fix that at some point.”

I offer a nod of my head, my eyes scanning over her face.

“Is Landry your real name?” she asks, her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s my last name,” I reply. “My first name is Christian, but only my mom calls me that.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Why is that?”

“It’s a hockey thing,” I say with a sly grin.

“Hmm, I’m not too familiar with hockey,” she responds, her eyes crinkling. “I’m more of a football girl.”

“Oh, those are fighting words.”

We sit under that old oak tree, its leaves rustling softly in the breeze and it dawns on me that I’ve never bothered to sit here in my almost four years of high school. I wonder if being around Kerri will introduce me to lots of things I’ve never noticed before. I have a feeling deep down that she will.

Our conversation flows easily as we discuss our mutual love for sports. She’s a Houston Oilers fan, which is better than Dallas but still a far cry from the Patriots.

As the bell rings, a thought suddenly pops into my head. “Oh, I almost forgot. My sister loves the flowers you gave her.”

“Oh my goodness, I’m so glad!” The corners of her mouth turn up into a delighted smile.

“Yeah, she actually spent hours drawing you a picture,” I nervously stammer out. “I know it’s kind of lame, so if you don’t want it, I understand. I can just toss it-”

“Christian Landry, you will do no such thing!” she scolds, shaking her head in mock disapproval. “I want my picture.”

“Okay, follow me to my locker, and I’ll get it for you.”

She playfully bumps her hip into mine, “Lead the way.”