Match Game: A Fake Dating Hockey Romance

29. Lydia

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve hit the snooze button on my alarm this morning.

Once, when my first alarm went off at six thirty because I told myself I’d be quick in getting ready for another day of tournaments and networking.

Then again, at six forty-five because Griffin pulls me in, wrapping his arms around my bare chest, and I want to linger for just a moment longer. His morning wood pushes into my lower back, and I feel myself go sopping wet. He knows damn well what he’s doing, and I’m trying to remind myself that if I don’t get out of bed now, I’m going to be late.

“Do you have to leave?” He whines, still groggy from our late night. “The kids are adults. They can handle themselves.”

“They’ve almost made it to the finals,” I laugh. “I want to watch them.”

“Okay, fine,” he murmurs into my hair. “Can I come?”

I roll my body over so our noses are almost touching. “You want to come?”

“Did you not remember what I said last night?” Griffin gives me a quick kiss. “I don’t want to leave your side.”

I raise a brow. “Even when I’m going to the bathroom?”

“Okay, I guess there are some times I’ll let you fly solo. But today’s a travel day, and I can see if I can change my flight to come back with you. When do you fly back home?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Just in time for the kids to hunker down and wrap up their classes before finals.

“Okay, that should work perfectly then. I have to be back for practice by tomorrow afternoon, and then I get to spend two weeks in a row playing at home until I’m on the road again.”

“Yay,” I beam. “Well, if you can get into the tournament, then you’re more than welcome to join me. It’s fun; a bunch of computers are set up and they have multiple screens up to show the different games going on. Today starts the second round, and if the kids keep winning, we might get to see them in the championship game.”

“That’s exciting,” Griffin says, grinning. “What time do you need to be there?”

I grab my phone from where I left it next to my pillow. Shit, how is it already seven? I swear, time feels like it’s going at double speed when Griffin and I are intertwined like a pretzel and peppering kisses every waking minute.

“In an hour. And it’s going to take me at least half an hour to walk there.”

“I’ll order a car for us,” he says. He pulls away from me and gestures for me to go get my ass out of bed and to the bathroom. “Go get ready.”

When my legs feel too heavy to move from the plush bed, Griffin gets his naked body up, erection still ramrod straight and pulls the curtains back. The sun’s bright rays spill into the room, and I blink a few times to get my eyes adjusted to the light.

“God,” I grab a pillow to shield my face. “The sun does not need to get in my face like that.”

“It absolutely does.” Griffin chuckles and grabs me by my hands. Of course, it only takes him a slight tug, and I’m up and at it because my strength is no match for Griffin’s. After I sit up, he reaches over to carry me from my waist, and I cling to him like a koala. He sets me down at the entrance of the bathroom and gives me a kiss.

“Go get ready,” he reiterates. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Okay, okay,” I roll my eyes. “Bossy, are we?”

“To be honest, I’d much rather have you boss me around.” He winks and then gives me a nudge to step into the bathroom.

“Wait,” I realize when I look over at the sink, and all I see are Griffin’s toiletries, that I didn’t sleep in my room last night. “All my things are in my room.”

“Oh yeah. I’ll go get those for you. Here,” he runs out and returns with a Stingrays T-shirt that fits him perfectly but goes down to my thighs. “Do you have your key?”

“Yeah,” I go grab my purse that has the keycard sleeve and hand it to Griffin. “My room number’s on there. 5412.”

“Awesome. Is it okay to grab all your stuff and bring it up here?”

I nod. Griffin tells me that he’ll try to be as quick as possible before making his way down to my room. Knowing that there is a high chance that I’m not going to make it in time for any opening remarks or the first few minutes of gameplay, I reach over to text the kids.

Lydia: Running a little late. Not sure if you guys are in the lobby but if you are, head over to the convention center. I’ll be there soon!

We make it to the event right on time, and it only took me running for the first time since I was forced to in high school. Damn, I should’ve brought pocket deodorant because now my armpits are sweaty, and I’m worried I’m radiating a “wet dog smell.”

“Can you sniff me and see if I smell okay?” I ask Griffin.

He shakes his head and laughs. He leans in close to my armpits and takes in a big whiff. “You smell just fine to me.”

“Are you sure that I don’t reek of sweat?”

He barks out a hearty laugh. “Babe, if you don’t smell like me after a game, then you don’t reek of sweat.”

Of course. I forgot hockey players sweat a lot because of the layers of uniform that they have to wear. I’m already making a mental note to buy noseplugs to ensure I do not need to take a whiff of Griffin’s uniform when it comes to doing the laundry.

“Touché,” I note. “Sorry, I don’t really run all that often.”

He pulls me in for a side hug. “It’s okay. You’re shaking a little bit. Are you cold?”

“No. I think just being here knowing what’s on the line is making me a little nervous.”

“They’re gonna take home the gold.” There’s no hesitation in Griffin’s tone. “I can feel it.”

We meet up with the kids, who cheer and whoop when they see us approaching them, holding hands. Dev tries to nudge Griffin and say, “What’s up, Daddy?” but before he can get the parental nickname out, Landon does his own elbow to Dev’s side, and he lets out a pained whimper.

“Fuck, Lando. You’ve got some bony elbows.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Landon says, flashing him a wink.

“How’s everyone feeling?” I ask. “We made it to the second round!” I say it with so much forced enthusiasm to mask my own nerves that we could lose it all in a matter of minutes.

“Alright,” Blake shrugs. “We’re playing St. Peter’s next, and they’re like, second in the nation.”

“I’m starting to believe that we might not be cut out for this,” Dev chimes in.

“Hey.” I turn my head to see that Griffin’s the one trying to get everyone’s attention. “You guys beat out a bunch of schools to make it this far. Don’t start thinking you can’t do it now. I don’t go into every game I play thinking that I’m going to lose. I always give it my all, no matter what the outcome is. If we lose, then so be it. But my eyes are always on the prize. And so should yours.”

Griffin leads the team in a huddle and tells them to put all their hands in the center.

“Los Gatos on three. One, two, three!”

Everyone starts to scream at the top of their lungs. “Los Gatos!”

“Thanks, Coach,” I nudge him when the kids start to make their way to their assigned play area.

“Anytime. Hey, when I retire, maybe I can take up being an esports coach. With enough practice, I think I’ll be pretty good.”

I wrap my arms around his torso and give him a squeeze. “I think you can be good at just about anything.”

“I can’t look!” I bury my face into Griffin’s chest as the crowd is speaking all at once. The kids are playing on the main stage in the final round, and I’m all nerves, zero chill.

Griffin rubs my back and keeps me tucked in close. “You’re fine. They’re winning.”

“That can change at any moment!” I whine. Admittedly, the kids have been doing exceptionally well. They’ve won the last three games, and one was a huge upset because it was with a top-ranked school. I don’t want to believe that our luck only lasts for three games, but when a collective gasp roars from the audience and Griffin pulls me in tighter, whispering that the other team just scored and now we’re only up by one, I feel the sudden urge to get up from my seat and run laps around this hotel to ease my anxiety.

“They’ll be fine, Lids.” Griffin plants a kiss on my head. “They’ve got two minutes left.”

“Just tell me when it’s over, okay?”

The announcer’s voice booms through the arena. “And just like that, Los Gatos has found themselves on Santa Maria’s side, and NightHawk24, aka Blake Forrester, has racked up another kill! Los Gatos leads by two, and with only thirty seconds left, can Santa Maria do it?”

I tilt my head to peek at the screen, and as the seconds tick down from thirty to twenty to ten, the crowd starts counting down like it’s New Year’s Eve.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

“They’ve done it! Your CEA Champions are first-year esports team, Los Gatos University!”

Spectators are out of their seats, jumping and screaming over how we, a small school from a small town in the South Bay, did it. We freaking won this huge tournament, and I don’t know how else to react but cry. Happy tears, obviously.

Griffin hoists me off the ground and twirls me in our small row.

“They did it!” I squeal. “They actually did it.”

“Congrats, Miss Director.” Griffin presses his lips to mine, and I don’t care if people can see. When he pulls back, I rope him back in for another one. “You did it.”

“I can’t believe it. I never thought this would happen in our first year.”

“They didn’t give up. They gave it their all every game, and they did it.”

I nod. “I’m so proud of them.”

“We’ll do it again next year, right?” Griffin asks.

And in that moment, I realize that there was a point in time where I thought of giving up, of leaving my team and my passion. But the rush of joy I feel right now, at seeing our school be crowned winners, over myself being chosen as Director of the Year, and at being held by the love of my life...I’m not taking a path where I have to say goodbye to any of it.

I smile into his neck. “You bet we will.”