Chapter 30
Wednesday evening at practice, Damon glared at the idiots on the ice not listening to his instructions.
Steve and Ed kept snipping at each other. Will seemed lost in thought, clearly not concentrating on the puck. And Ted and Lee continued to argue over which line they thought they belonged on, not to mention the rest of the guys too busy razzing each other than focusing on drills.
“Hey, numbnuts, listen up,” he growled, not happy himself since Marlie had yelled at him earlier. Through no fault of his own, he’d accidentally used all the hot water in the shower after a grueling workout, not realizing she’d wanted a quick shower before heading to basketball practice.
To his credit, he’d been apologetic but not overly so, not wanting to set a bad precedent early on in their relationship. His mother might walk all over his father, but Damon wasn’t going to be so easy with Marlie.
Except she’d torn into him with icy words, and he felt awful because she was working her ass off at school—finals week—and dealing with a basketball loss from the night before.
And then he’d gone and used up all the hot water.
“Will, over here,” he barked. “The rest of you, on me.”
Everyone stopped and skated over to him.
“I need to work with our goalie for a bit. Ed, have the group run some one-on-one drills. Defense, get your stick all over your opponents’.
Check, don’t slash. And offense, use your body to get the defense out of the way, not just your stick. Work on fundamentals, guys.”
They scattered, but before Will could take off, Damon grabbed his stick.
“Uh-uh. Not you. Lee, I want three half-laps.” The Mav’s goalie wasn’t half bad.
“Start with zipper drills. Keep that chest forward. Then hinge and shuffle. And lastly, get into your butterfly, then push and chest save. If moving to the blocker side, make sure to project out and over the puck. Same when you go to your glove side. Any questions?” Basic enough goalie drills that would keep him busy while Damon talked to Will.
“I’m good.” Lee skated off to the far goal and got started.
Damon was careful to move slowly on the ice. His knee was sore after the workout Morgan had put him through yesterday. His low-angle butterfly mobility and slideboard drills today added to the strain, but he felt stronger, so he sucked up the pain and dealt with it.
Now alone with Will, he dropped his stick. “What the fuck is going on? Where’s your head, man?”
“What? I missed a few shots. So what?”
“You’re not the same focused player I saw on Sunday when we beat the Yetis. What’s up with you?”
Will drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I had an argument today. I’m still pissed.”
“What did Jeff do?”
Will flushed. “Huh?”
“Oh please. This has lover’s spat written all over it. Just make up, bone, and get your head back in the game. Want me to talk to Jeff for you?”
“Hell no.” Will grunted. “Great pep talk, coach.”
“You know, I already got big old heap of Reynolds sarcasm earlier. I don’t need more of it.”
“Yeah?”
“Your sister may look like an angel, but trust me, she’s not.”
That cheered the guy up. He did stick work while Lee finished his drills. Then Will helped with some slap shots while Damon coached Lee on how to protect the goal.
All in all, the practice went well, and Damon helped correct a few weak spots he’d noticed Sunday.
But he continued to feel unsettled on his way back to Marlie’s house. It wasn’t as if he’d tried to use all the hot water. Who the hell had only enough hot water for one shower at a time anyway?
Because they’d been showering together, he hadn’t noticed the lack. Until today.
On the way home—and damn if he didn’t consider living with Marlie his “home”—Damon tried to figure out the right way to deal with her. Though they’d had a little fight the other night, when she complained about him spending too much money on her, the hot water thing seemed more serious.
He didn’t like her mad at him. And it had been his fault, though he hadn’t meant to inconvenience her, and especially not now with her dealing with a lot of stress.
Determined to make it up to her, he arrived at her place—not yours, dumbass—and knocked. Though she normally left the back door unlocked for him, he felt like he needed to make sure she realized he respected her space.
She opened the door, sighed, then turned and walked back into the house without speaking.
He found her grading papers in the living room while the kittens played with toys on the floor. The fireplace was going, and she had a covered mug on the table next to a pile of papers.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted at the same time she did. “Huh?”
Marlie huffed. “Look, I’m sorry for being overly dramatic. I was just annoyed and took it out on you. My bad.” Her eyes were snapping, her jaw clenched tight.
He dragged her into a hug and squeezed until she squeaked and finally relaxed. “There you go. Look, I didn’t mean to bum you out. I know you’re dealing with a lot. The games, practices, me being here, the kittens, and finals. You’re entitled to get snippy.”
“I wasn’t snippy, your highness, but thanks for allowing me to have feelings,” she said nastily, not muffled enough against his sweatshirt.
He pulled away. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that part of your sincere apology? All the sarcasm??
She blushed. “Shut up. I’m sorry, I said.” Her face remained red, but she maintained eye contact as she admitted, “And I got my period earlier and my cramps are killing me.”
“Aw, snookums, why didn’t you say so?” He led her back to the couch, shoving her to sit down on it once more.
She tried to hide a smile but didn’t manage it. “Quit calling me fake endearments.”
“Sure thing, sugar bottom.”
She snickered.
“What are you drinking?”
“Hot chocolate.”
“Want more?”
She lifted her cup, shook it, then nodded.
“Coming right up.”
She watched him putter around in the kitchen. He left and found a towel he heated up in the microwave.
“What’s that for?”
“Cramps. That and some ibuprofen. Always worked for Grace.”
“You don’t seem uncomfortable with the topic of menstruation. I’m impressed.”
He snorted. “You don’t grow up in house with Leila and Grace Sinclair and get squeamish about woman parts and processes. And blood? Ha. I was in more fights as a kid than…” He coughed. “I mean, blood is a natural part of life.”
“So you were a little bad ass.”
“Well, kind of. My parents channeled it quickly into sports. Then I found ice hockey and poured all my aggression into anyone trying to score on me.” He fetched her cocoa and the towel and stood over her.
She blinked up at him.
“How bad are the cramps?”
“They’re usually pretty bad the first few days. But they even out by day four.”
“How long is your period?”
“Kind of a personal question, isn’t it?”
He snorted. “Really? You’re the one that brought it up.”
“Well, I thought I could make you squirm. Most guys don’t like to hear about the red tide.”
He blinked. “Isn’t that Alabama’s slogan?”
“That’s the crimson tide.”
“Ah.” He paused. Then he put everything down, manhandled her to sit across the couch with her head propped up, laid the hot towel across her abdomen and handed her two pills. He left and returned with water.
“Drink them down.”
She did. Then he handed her some cocoa and a new term paper to grade.
“Thanks?”
He grunted and settled on the floor to play with the kittens. Feeling better with the heat seeping into her from the warm towel and the pills and cocoa taking effect, she focused on grading once more.
After a bit, Damon joined her on the sofa, sliding under her feet, since she laid across the entire couch. He had earbuds in and propped his phone on the table. Then he started rubbing her feet.
She blinked in surprise, feeling warm and cared for. And wow, he was hitting all the right spots in her feet to relax her.
“Get back to work, slacker,” he barked then returned to watching his phone while the kittens climbed on the couch on top of her legs.
The little fuzzballs fell asleep. She graded more papers, sipped more cocoa, and smiled as her domestic “bad boy” rubbed her feet in silence, so as not to disturb her.
And the calm, domestic scene unlocked something inside her from falling for the guy getting ready to leave all too soon.
He felt her regard and glanced over at her.
Don’t you dare smile at me, Damon.
His sweet grin charmed her before he turned back to his phone and her feet.
Damn it.