Kincaid
I ’ve never loved road games. The travel, the hotels, the restaurant food, the shitty away dressing rooms, dealing with fans who hate your guts—it all sucks. But now, with Lilah waiting back in Toronto for me, I hate them. Being so far away from her feels wrong. Like a part of me is missing.
I’m going out of my mind, counting down the seconds until I can get back to my girl. I’ve been gone for four nights with three more to go. We won our first two games against Dallas and Washington. One more game tomorrow night against Boston, and then we’re home.
I’m white-knuckling my way through every single minute, and I’m only able to cope because we text almost constantly. And when we’re not texting, I’m often scrolling back up and reading our texts from earlier in the day, or the day before. She’s in my phone as SG for sweet girl, and I’m in hers as 44, the number on the back of my jersey. We’re trying to be as discreet as possible until we tell Shane about our relationship.
I scroll back through our texts as I wait for the rest of the guys to come down to the hotel restaurant for a team dinner, grinning like a lovesick idiot as I reread our messages.
From yesterday morning:
SG: I got a 94 on my marketing assignment!
44: That’s my girl! Proud of you, babe
SG: 3
From two days ago:
44: You have no idea how much I miss you, sweet girl.
SG: I miss you, too. I wish we were hanging out at your place right now.
44: And what would we be doing?
SG: Playing video games, of course.
44: Then I’d have my face between your perfect thighs while you game.
SG: Sigh. Yes please. I need you to do that again.
44: With pleasure.
From this morning:
SG: Are you okay? That was a really hard hit you took in the third period last night.
44: I’m fine. Takes a lot more than that to rattle me.
SG: Still, it must’ve hurt.
44: You can kiss my bruises when I get home.
SG: I’ll kiss any part of you that you want. I still want that blow job lesson.
44: I’m so fucking hard just thinking about your lips around me
From this afternoon:
44: I bought you a present
SG: Really???? You didn’t have to do that!
44: I wanted to. I saw it and it made me think of you. Well, think of you more.
SG: What is it?
44: You want me to spoil the surprise?
SG: Yes!
I send her a picture of the dainty necklace with the famous dragon from The Quest for the EverSpark .
SG: OMG!
SG: I LOVE IT
SG: IT’S SO PRETTY!!!!!
44: I’m glad you like it. I’ll put it on you as soon as I’m home.
SG: I’ll wear it and nothing else
SG: Well, except maybe this. I bought some jewelry earlier today too.
Lilah sends a picture of her hand. There’s a delicate gold ring on her finger with the letter K in the middle.
SG: K for . Or maybe more like ’s.
44: I want you so much right now, fuck. I love that you’re wearing my initial around.
SG: Because I’m yours.
44: That’s right, sweet girl. You’re mine.
I’m still grinning like an idiot as I scroll through the texts. I can’t wait to give her her present. I can’t wait to kiss her and wrap my arms around her again. I can’t wait to be inside her, where I belong.
“What’s got you looking so smug?” asks Tanner Davis, the team’s captain.
“It’s either a woman or…nah. It’s definitely a woman,” says Wolf Hartley, clapping me on the shoulder.
I chuckle and lay my phone screen down on the table as they sit down on either side of me. “Maybe.”
“So he doesn’t deny it,” says Tanner, leaning back in his seat. “Professional hockey’s most eligible bachelor might be off the market. Get your tissues, ladies.”
I scoff. “Please. I think that title belongs to you.” Tanner’s older than me by a few years and notoriously single. But not because he fucks around. Guy just doesn’t date.
It reminds me a little of myself before Lilah came into my life. I dated a little, had a girlfriend here and there, but nothing serious, and nothing at all for a couple of years now. Now I know it’s because I was waiting for Lilah. My angel.
“So, who’s the lucky lady?” asks Wolf, signaling to the waiter and ordering a beer.
“Not ready to share that yet,” I say as guilt tightens my chest and churns my stomach. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about how we’re going to tell Shane, how he might react, how the team might react, and how Lilah might feel if her dad takes it badly.
“Oh, come on,” says Wolf, grinning playfully. “She can’t be that bad.”
Tanner laughs and I throw a balled-up napkin at him. “Fuck you, Hartley. She’s amazing. But we haven’t gone public yet, so my lips are sealed.”
“But not your pants,” chirps Tanner, and I flip him off, but I’m laughing, too. It feels good, shooting the shit with the guys like this. Getting traded to a new team is always nerve wracking, but I’m fitting in and finding my place. Building chemistry and camaraderie matters, because if you can’t get along off the ice, you’re not going to click on the ice.
Just then, my phone buzzes with a text, and I can’t stop myself from picking up my phone and checking to see if it’s from Lilah. The initials “SG” pop up on the screen, and my stomach does a happy little flip.
SG: I miss being in your bed
44: I miss you in my bed
Tanner and Wolf make all sorts of inappropriate noises, hooting and laughing and pretending to barf, and I laugh, but my stomach drops when I hear a voice from behind me.
“SG, huh? Sounds like she misses you.” Shane grins at me as he sits down across from me at the table.
Fuck me.
“Campbell’s got some hot new girlfriend he’s all googly-eyed over,” says Wolf.
Shane just shrugs. “Good for you. Glad you’re, uh, making friends in the city. As long as it doesn’t detract from your performance on the ice, you’re free to do what—or who—you want.”
Right. We’ll see if that’s still his stance when he learns that the woman blowing up my phone is his twenty-year-old daughter whose virginity I took less than a week ago.
I can’t talk about this with him, so I change the subject to the upcoming game. I know it’s an obvious dodge, but I don’t care. Lilah isn’t ready yet, so I’m not going to say anything.
But one thing is clear: we need to figure out a way to tell her dad about our relationship. And soon.