13. Michael
The girl of my forbidden desires is currently walking toward me.
She”s wearing tight leggings and a light windbreaker looking like she just time-warped from the 90s. Her hair floats behind her as she walks up to me and pauses just a few steps in front of me.
”You ready?”
She eyes the Space City arena before saying, ”Lead the way, Fergie.”
She knows exactly what to say to get under my skin. Calling me by Fergie and not Michael is one of those ways.
”You know,” I say, as I open the door for her. ”You were way nicer to me when I was making you come with my tongue.”
Her body stiffens as she turns to me, pulling her little purse closer to her body. She”s visibly uncomfortable.
“And how do you know I wasn”t just faking it to make you feel better?” she says, her nose pointed high as she stares up at me.
I step up to her once inside the building. ”The way you dripped all over my mouth told me otherwise,” I lean in closer and whisper to her, ”I watched your pussy clench, just aching for me to claim it…. butterfly.”
She clears her throat and looks around. ”Well, I think you and I can both agree that that was a one-time thing.”
”Doesn”t have to be,” I croon.
Her eyes glide down my body and shoot back up to my gaze. If I wasn”t seeing things, I”d say Libby was just imagining what that might look like.
”Let”s just get this over with Ferguson.”
Ouch.And now I”m Ferguson. We”re definitely going backwards here. She starts to march off in the direction of the ice, but I grab her wrist before she gets too far.
”Tell me you didn”t love it, and I”ll just forget it ever happened.”
She glares at me. And I stare at her. Neither one of us breaks.
”Tell me you haven”t thought of what it might feel like for us to take it further, Libby. Off the app. Tell me you don”t want this and I”ll let it go.”
Her eyes look around the quiet arena. ”I... can”t say that.”
A smile tugs on the corner of my lips.
”Good,” I tell her, pulling her along with me toward the dressing room. Libby pauses right at the door.
”I can”t go in there.”
I look around confused. ”It”s just us.”
”Nope,” she slashes her arms in front of her. ”I can”t be in there. You guys are about to head into the conference finals, and I can”t have anything interfering with that.”
Ok. Now I”m really confused. I look at her and then back to the door. ”Libby, are you...superstitious?”
”No,” she quips, crossing her arms in front of her.
I think about all the games she attends. How she just recently started sitting in the same seat she sat in since the win that got us into the playoffs. She wears her brother”s same jersey for every game. She insists on not stepping foot into our dressing room since it”s technically for players and staff only.
”Libby,” I smirk. ”You”re superstitious.”
”No, I”m not. I”m just taking precautions. Just in case.”
”For someone that claims not to be religious, you sure are religious about your hockey traditions.”
”Well, aren”t you?”
”No, I believe in something more. And that something will always know what”s better in the long run whether I win or lose in the moment.”
”Of course, you do. Spoken like a true pastor”s son. Well, I”m not into all that faith talk, Fergie.”
I nod, totally understanding what she means. I”ve seen the good and the bad of being in a community of faith. I”ve seen things twisted for the benefit of the church in spite of the harm it might do to the people. Libby, like so many others I know, chooses to stay away from it all.
I open the door to the room and usher her in. ”That”s alright. But you believing in all your pregame superstitions takes just as much faith as believing in a higher power. Just saying.”
She shakes her head and hesitates before finally taking a step inside. She doesn”t go very far into the room before she takes it all in.
I stop her just before her feet touch the Heatwave logo of a puck on fire. ”We don”t step on that.”
She smirks. ”Now whose the superstitious one.”
”It”s out of respect,” I clarify.
”Uh-huh,” she strolls along the bench and looks at the names and numbers on each stall. She pauses on her brother”s. Number eighty-two, O”Connor.
”I never missed a game of his growing up. And you know Frank, he wasn’t our real dad, just the rich uncle who preferred things over family. He”d send us with a driver or chaperone,” she touches the nameplate and I can”t help but watch her.
”Zane always said I was his lucky charm. That if I missed a game, he”d always play his worst. So I never missed a game. And I went to every practice. Taught the other families the chants that we”d use at the games. I was his biggest cheerleader. Hockey was just as much my sport as it was his.” She drops her hand and turns to face me.
”Is it still?”
She shrugs. ”I don”t know. We have bigger things to live for now, I guess. Him especially.”
I step up to her, ”So do you.”
Her eyes meet mine. ”If I”m being totally honest. I don”t think I do.”
”You don”t think you have bigger things to live for?”
”I know that I can... I just have no idea what it is. I”ve been Zane”s sister. Kesley”s best friend. Liam”s aunt. But I don”t know what it means to just be… me.”
”Maybe it”s time you find out,” I say taking her hand.
”Maybe,” she says solemnly.
She sits down on the bench in front of her brother”s stall, still holding onto my hand. I kneel down in front of her and hold her honey colored gaze. In those eyes are sadness and beauty beyond anything I”ve ever seen.
”What is it that you want, Libby?”
She looks down. ”I want my life to mean something.”
I want to wrap her in my arms. To tell her that it already does. That to me, she”s everything. But I can”t.
I nod. ”Me too.”
She looks up at me again and there”s a faint smile. Her eyes bounce from both of my eyes to my lips and back up.
I feel it too. The crackle in the air that I always feel when I”m around her. But this time, without our friends around to cushion it, it”s in full force.
I want nothing more than to make Libby mine. But not at the cost of her figuring out herself and who she is. I”d be wrong to give her yet another title—Michael”s girl.
She needs something that is all hers. But that doesn”t mean I can”t be here to help her figure it out.
I stand up and she watches me. ”Skate with me, Libby.”
On the ice, Libby is one of the most graceful skaters I”ve ever known. She”s effortless. And I see it in an instant.
”You”d make an incredible figure skater,” I say as she glides past me on one leg.
She snorts. ”Yeah, right. Like I”d be interested in choreographed dance routines.”
She does a spin that makes me really wonder why she”s never considered it.
”I”m serious.” I say skating up next to her.
”Yeah, well. So am I. I love skating sure, but it”s just a hobby. I learned it to pass the time.”
”Fair. So what got you into modeling then? Was that always your passion?”
She laughs. ”Hell no. Modeling was something I picked up to get revenge on my mom for leaving me and Zane.”
”What?” I say incredulously.
”Oh yeah,” she says slowing down and skating next to me. ”She”s like this famous European model. Still looks like she”s twenty. It”s crazy.”
”So how does you being a model get revenge on your mom?”
She shakes her head. ”When I first saw her on a magazine cover... I just couldn”t believe my eyes. My mother. Flesh and blood. There in front of me. No calls. No visits. Just out there living an entire life without her children.”
”That”s rough.”
”Yeah, well... Zane already had hockey. I knew he was going to be something big. That was his way showing her that he didn”t need her to make a name for himself. And I thought, what better way to get to her than the same way she did to me. On the cover of a magazine. Let her see the daughter she abandoned. Let her feel the pain of seeing someone that could”ve meant something to her, just living.”
Libby holds resentment. That”s clear as day.
”Have you ever tried... I don”t know... just talking to her?”
She looks at me with a face that says, ”Seriously?”
”Sorry, what was I thinking. That would be too easy? A revenge plot is so much better,” I smirk.
”Yes it is, Michael.”
”But have you ever stopped to wonder if maybe she”d see your picture and not think twice about it. Just go on living. And you would”ve wasted all that time holding on to this grudge for what?”
She stops abruptly, and snow sprays out under her skates.
”No,” she says softly. ”That would somehow be worse.”
I stop and turn to her. She looks broken. So beautifully broken. I wish I could take the pain away. The abandonment she feels from the person who should”ve been her biggest cheerleader.
That”s when it hits me. Libby is the way she is with the people that she loves, because she never wants them to know what it feels like to be abandoned. Forgotten. She”s chosen the other extreme. To give all of herself freely and without question.
I skate up to her and take her hand. She looks up at me. And for the first time, I see something in her gaze that wasn”t there before.
”Looks like you two got an early start,” a voice calls out from the stands.
We both let our hands go and look around frantically. Izzy is a few rows up waving at us, a camera already in her hand.
”Hey, Iz, ” I wave back.
She brings the camera back up to her face and snaps some photos. How long has she been there?
”Just pretend I”m not even here. You guys are so cute,” she whistles.
I look at Libby who shakes her head and whispers, ”Uh... I didn”t think this through.”
My face falls, ”What are you talking about?”
”Hey, Izzy?” she calls up to the pregnant team photographer. ”You think we can delete those and start over?”
Izzy looks at her camera. ”Seriously?”
”Yeah, Rina asked me to help with social media stuff so I”d like to work with you for the shots if that”s okay.”
I turn to her. ”She did?”
”Yeah, she did.”
”So what does that mean? Are you working for the Heatwave?”
”I mean, temporarily.”
Huh. ”So, then you going into the dressing room won”t matter. You’re staff.”
She thinks about it for a second and smiles. ”Yeah. I guess I am. Looks like you guys still have a chance to win the conference finals after all.”
Izzy comes down to the team bench to greet us.
”Alright, Ms. Social Media Manager. What do you suggest?”
”More laughing.”
Izzy nods flipping through the photos. ”I think you”re right. You heard the girl, Fergie. Make her laugh.”
I look at Libby in thought. ”Last one to the blue crease flips the dinner bill.”
I skate off. And I hear Libby scoff before shooting off in front me.
By the time we make it to the other side we”re out of breath and laughing.
She wins but still slaps me on the arm when I get to her.
”Rude,” I already paid twenty five big ones you want me to pay for your burger too?”
I huff out a laugh and turn back to Izzy. ”How was that?”
Izzy gives a thumbs up. ”Perfect! Lots of smiles.”
”Awesome. Let”s go get dinner then.”