Chapter 36
DEVON
Jack loves me.
I love him.
Did I say that or just think it?
Is a kiss enough?
Wait.
So fucking easy to fall in love with.
Those were my words. So yeah, close. And as the kiss lingered, I could acknowledge I needed to do more.
Still, as I thrust my tongue into his mouth—and demanded total surrender—thoughts of declarations of love fled. He’d come here. For me. I had to show him how much that really meant to me.
The past few weeks had been torture. I hadn’t answered his texts because I honestly hadn’t known what to say.
I hadn’t understood why he was stepping down as head coach of the Grizzlies.
I supposed, in my mind, the decision had been made because he had a better—but super-secret—offer.
That he was off to a coaching job in the big leagues.
Maybe not head coach, but certainly something bigger than the Grizzlies.
Which meant, unless he was moving to my Vancouver team, he’d be leaving.
Which was both abstract and superreal at the same time.
I was still living in a hotel in Vancouver. To me, the discussion of a one-way contract was too much to contemplate. His words overwhelmed. People were noticing me. As I had that thought, I grabbed his hair and pulled.
Hard.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch.
I wasn’t hard. As much as I loved making out with Jack, my head just wasn’t in the game. So I pulled back.
His lust-filled gaze met mine. He smiled sadly. “No, eh?”
I shook my head. “I want, but—” I swallowed. “You said pizza?”
He nodded.
“Domino’s?”
“Sure.” He reached for his back pocket—as if to pull out his wallet.
I chuckled. “I’ve got it. Do you need the bathroom or something? Maybe a shower? I always want to shower after a flight—and you’ve had two.” I placed a hand on his chest. “Thank you. I’ll order us a couple of pizzas.”
“You know what I like.” He rose and shook out his knee.
Guilt consumed me. He’d traveled in a bus to Kamloops, then a flight from there to Vancouver, and then Vancouver to Denver. That involved a shit ton of sitting.
I rose as well. “You okay?”
He waved me off. “Shower will help loosen me up.” His stomach rumbled. “Airline food—”
I made a face. “For you having endured that, I’ll even order you a Hawaiian pizza.” I made a grossed-out face.
“Pineapple was made for pizzas.”
“I think the Italians would disagree.”
He arched an eyebrow.
Is he going to give me another lecture about the origins of pizza? Man, Americans are so touchy about that.
“And what, precisely, are you having?”
“Canadian.” I puffed out my chest. “Pepperoni, bacon, and mushrooms.”
This time, he made a face. “Fungi grown in shit.”
“Very healthy.”
“So’s pineapple.”
I grabbed his hips, rotated him carefully, swatted his ass, then gently shoved him toward the bathroom. “I think there’s a robe in there. Go ahead and grab it. As you know, we had a practice earlier. Game’s tomorrow night.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I know. I know everything.” He grabbed his bag and headed into the bathroom.
Not everything.
I took out my phone and placed my order.
Then I called the front desk. They were very understanding about me ordering from outside.
The hotel kitchen made a pizza—and I was certain it would be delicious—but I needed comfort.
Domino’s had been Mom’s favorite. Rarely could we afford the treat.
But when we could? We savored each bite of the deep-dish goodness.
When I’d come to Abbotsford, I tried some of the local joints. All great. Just…not the pizza I associated with home. That I would now always associate with Jack.
The sound of the shower running should’ve done something to my libido. Jack naked. Water sluicing down him.
Me taking him in there. Literally hazardous to our health, but still tempting. Bathtub accidents were a thing. That was why I loved the shower in my condo in Abbotsford. Except Jack had never seen it.
He’d never seen the hotel in Vancouver either.
One-way contract.
God. Would Vancouver really do that? Give me what I’d always wanted?
That would mean I could give up the rental in Abbotsford and rent in Vancouver.
Hell, if I was careful with the money, I might even be able to buy a small condo.
Huge mortgage…but something I could start to call my own.
For the first time ever. I’d only ever rented.
Or lived in a foster home. I’d never been in a position to put my name on a deed and call the place mine.
“You okay?”
I pivoted to see Jack emerging from the bathroom with his bag in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other.
“Fine.” I pointed to the clothes. “Do you want to send them for cleaning?”
He shook his head. “They were clean yesterday, and as much as air travel sucks, they’re okay.”
And you need to be able to leave at a moment’s notice, and you can’t do that if your clothes are somewhere else. I pushed that thought aside and gestured to the dresser. “Plenty of space.”
“You’re always so neat.” When he moved to put his clothes in the dresser, the front of the bathrobe dipped, and I glimpsed that magnificent chest hair I loved so much. With flecks of gray that caught the light.
I blinked. “Neat?”
“Yeah. Plenty of guys just drop their suitcases and live out of them. Too much hassle to keep packing and unpacking.”
“Mom.”
He closed the dresser drawer. “I wondered.”
I shrugged. “There’s plenty to say, but I keep it bottled up inside.”
“You shared some while we were in Tofino.”
I told you the easy stuff. The happy memories.
Not what I went through as she slowly lost control of her body.
About what happened the day she left our home and just never came back.
I honestly couldn’t say how, as a twelve-year-old, I’d endured that.
How I’d been mature about it. How I’d never complained.
Grieved? Yes. Broken down? No. “Maybe one day. Pizza will be here in a few minutes.”
“Sure. I can put on my sleep pants—”
“No.” I winced at the stridency in my tone. “Sorry. You decide—”
He shook his head. “I’m not greeting the pizza guy. I just feel like lazing about.”
“I like you when you laze about.” Memories of Tofino flashed into my mind. The two of us on the couch. Lying in bed and reveling in the fact that we had nowhere to be and were accountable to no one.
The hotel phone rang.
I grabbed it and managed a coherent answer when the concierge said the pizza delivery gal was on her way up. I grabbed my wallet.
Jack cocked his head. “You didn’t pay on the website?”
“Oh, I did. And left a hefty tip. But I want to give more.”
“Why? I mean, good on you, but—”
“I didn’t realize just how cold it is out there.
” I pulled a couple of American twenties out of my wallet.
Green and white. The Canadian twenty-dollar bill was also green.
But a soft green with colored accents. I loved our money.
Blue for five. Purple for ten. Green for twenty.
Red for fifty, and brown for one hundred.
And with rotating important historical figures.
We didn’t just settle for dead Prime Ministers.
A knock on the door pulled me from my reverie about Canadian currency.
No wonder Jack was giving me a concerned look with a little furrow in his brow. He stepped out of sight as I answered the door.
The woman had to be near retirement age—if not older. She gazed at me. “You’re a cute one. Too bad you don’t live in Denver.” She pulled the two pizza boxes from the padded bag.
I snagged them and then thrust the bills toward her.
She cocked her head. “Young man, you already tipped me.”
“Here’s more.”
She shook her head.
I dropped it into the bag, reentered my room, and shut the door. I might’ve heard twit as she left. I laughed. I was certain she’d find somewhere to spend it. If not on herself, then on someone else.
Jack grabbed the pizzas. “So freaking good. I love that smell.”
“Yeah. What do you want to drink?”
“Diet cola?”
“Got lots of that.” I grabbed a diet for him and a regular for me.
As we ate, we discussed Vancouver’s chances to win the Cup. We discussed the Grizzlies’ winning streak.
We didn’t discuss his resignation or the press conference from hell.
When we were finished, I put the leftover pizza in the fridge and Jack put the empty cans of pop in the recycling bin. I eyed him. “You must be chilly. Do you want to get changed?”
“You said you wanted me like this.” He arched an eyebrow.
“I did, didn’t I? Because I like looking at your damn sexy legs.”
He rolled his eyes.
I snagged his hand and tugged him toward me. “I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciate you being here.”
“Your reaction to me arriving let me know?”
This time, I cocked my head.
“The hug.”
“Oh. Right.” When I’d clung to him like a koala clinging to its mother. “Well, thank you again.”
“What do you want, Devon? Or should I ask what do you need?”
You. But that scares the shit out of me. “What are you offering?”
“Do you want to play? Playing doesn’t just center me.” He placed a hand on my cheek. “It calms you as well.”
God, he knows me so damn well. “I didn’t bring any of my toys.”
He grasped my hand. “I seem to remember this being very effective.”
“Do you mind marks? Where people can’t see, of course.”
“Never. Especially if they’re made by you and I can feel the pain for a day or three.” He held my gaze. “Do you need your toys?”
I shook my head.
Slowly, he nodded.
And swallowed.
Hard.
“What is it? If you’re hesitating—”
He shook his head. “I want you to tie me up.”
My world bottomed out.