Chapter 16
Axel
Just because I’mcaught in that blissed-out state between orgasm and sleep doesn’t mean I can’t feel Nadia trying to ease out of my grip and off the bed.
“Nuh-uh,” I mumble, face pressed into her neck, “where do you think you’re going?”
“Bathroom?”
“I already cleaned you up,” I remind her. I’d found a clean cloth in the bathroom and wiped her down before getting back in the bed to hold her close. “You’re trying to escape.”
“This is my house, how can I escape?” But there’s an edge to her voice and she relents, admitting, “I was just giving you some space.”
“What gives you the impression that I want space?” My arm is tight around her waist, keeping her against my body. My cock twitches, the want building again, but it’s not sex, it’s just her. “I mean, the full-sized bed is a little tight, but it just makes it easier to cuddle.”
She turns. It’s not graceful. The bed really is too small for my body alone, much less hers. I keep my hand on her hip, holding onto her until she faces me. “You’re saying you want to stay and cuddle.”
I’d fucking move in if she’d let me.
“You think I’m not a cuddler?”
She rolls her eyes. “I think you’re too lazy to move.”
“You want me to leave?” The concept dawns on me. God, how much brain fog do I have? “You’re kicking me out?”
She frowns, eyes searching mine, then sighs. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“What are you talking about, T?”
“Every man I’ve ever had sex with has made it perfectly clear that I’m not invited to hang out.”
“Even when it’s at your house?”
“No one ever comes to my house. I’m always the one that goes to theirs,” she says.
I know that this goes all the way back to that first time with that bastard Will Holt, who I plan on eviscerating in the near future.
She continues, “That’s why I’m not exactly sure what to do here.”
“I’m not leaving.” I reach out and trace the line of her jaw. “And you’re not either. We’re going to fucking cuddle. And do that other thing couples do.”
Her eyebrows rise. “What thing?”
“Pillow talk, or whatever.”
“You want to cuddle and talk?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to round two when my cock comes back from the dead, but yeah. I missed you over the break. I thought about you every day. I hated the way we left things and I wasn’t able to talk to you.” I thrust my hand in my hair. “No matter how big of a house my father builds, it still feels too small.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks tentatively. “Because if you don’t that’s okay.” I’m not sure why she’s so hesitant, until it hits me. The last time she asked about my family I told her it was none of her business. Jesus, I’m an asshole.
“It’s hard for me to talk about them,” I admit. “And accusing you of ulterior motives was a dick move. I’m sorry.”
“I know. We were both a little defensive that day.”
Fuck, this girl. She’s too good for me.
“Do you know who my father is?” I ask.
“I didn’t,” she admits, “not until we argued. I had some time to kill in the airport on the way home and went on a deep dive.”
“So you know he’s the head pastor of the megachurch, Kingdom.”
“I watched a few of his sermons. He seems…” she searches for the right word, “...charismatic. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I see the resemblance. In looks and presence.”
I grimace. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Sorry,” she says, with the smallest smirk. “He’s good at his job. I’m not even religious and I got a little caught up in his talk. I can see why he’s popular. So what’s the issue? Does he disapprove of your lifestyle?” Her fingers trace over a tattoo on my chest. “All the ink and tattoos? The women?”
“Yes and no.” This is where it gets complicated, and where it’s hard to explain who my father really is. “I had a lot of energy as a kid. Sitting still was like asking the Devil to sing in the choir, and he knew I needed an outlet. Mom signed me up for everything: football, baseball, basketball, but one day I went with a friend to a hockey game and I was hooked. Then it became pretty clear I was good. I made it to the juniors and the recruiters started showing up. He was always going to let me go to college–he just figured it would be a religious foundation and closer to home.”
“But he let you go.”
“One condition for me playing hockey at such a highly competitive and time consuming level, was that I still had to attend church–at least the youth portions. I could live with it, especially once all the girls started showing up.”
“I know this is hard to believe, but I was already cocky at seventeen. I had my first tattoo,” I shift, pointing to a lightning bolt, the name of my team, “and got my eyebrow pierced. I kind of developed this bad-boy persona that attracted a lot of girls and I wasn’t afraid to pursue them.”
“I bet,” she snorts. “You’re like the male version of catnip.”
“Well, my father saw it a little differently, but yeah. I was popular. While I was trying my hardest to be rebellious, to tell my father he couldn’t control me, but in the end, all I did was fall right into his trap. I became a mini-version of him, building his flock, and he noticed.”
Fuck did he notice.
“He allowed me to come to Wittmore because it benefitted the Kingdom. The more popular I become, the more name recognition I have, the more it’ll help when I go back.”
She frowns. “What do you mean, ‘go back?’”
“It’s a family business, darlin’. Started with my great-great grandfather going all the way down the line.” I meet her eye. “I’m next.”
“That’s why you’re not entering the draft.” Her eyes widen. “And why you’ve been living like a sailor on leave for the last three years.”
“Pretty much.” I roll on my back and tuck my arm behind my head. “I may not have the calling in the traditional sense, but there’s no doubt about my destiny and it isn’t tending goal in the NHL.”
Nadia lifts up on her elbow, pulling the sheet with her to cover her chest. “You’re an adult, Axel. He can’t actually make you come back, can he?”
I shrug. “It’s complicated. When he let me come up here, and agreed to pay for my education, I told him I’d come back.” My word means something, and so does my family. “He’s been preparing the congregation for my return this whole time. The prodigal son returns. I may live up here, but they’re following me down there. There’s a plan. A role I’m supposed to step into.” I laugh darkly. “I even have an assignment for when I come home over winter break.”
“People change their minds all the time, can they not see that?”
“Breaking that promise to him would be a scandal, and there’s nothing like a megachurch scandal. It would hurt my mom and sister, who have sacrificed everything for that man and church.” I shake my head. “I can’t do that to them.”
“What you’re saying is that after graduation, you’re heading back to Texas.”
I nod, picking up her hand and running my thumb over her knuckles. “Unless God sends another flood, which I mean, is entirely possible. I’ve done some pretty sinful things.”
“Epic fuck-ups.”
“That’s right.” I rise up, and push her on her back, taking off the sheet in the process. Her body is perfect. She’s perfect and that’s why I confess, “And if there’s only six more months of sinning and fuck-ups left, I want you to be the one I do it with.”
“You didn’t haveto cook for me.” I watch her move around in the tiny kitchen. She looks sexy as hell wearing my dress shirt that hangs down and grazes her thighs.
“I’m not sure this counts as cooking.” She opens a cabinet and pushes up on her toes, reaching for a bowl, giving me a peek of lace and asscheek. “And your stomach was growling and you kept looking wistfully at my cold ramen.”
I hop up and cross the room, crowding behind her to grab the bowls. Her ass brushes against my cock and fuck, well, this may not have been the best idea. Not if I want to eat something other than her pussy.
“I came over right after my game. I didn’t get my standard post-win meal. And,” I lift the hair off her neck and lean in, kissing her neck, “I’m pretty sure we burned a shit ton of calories tonight.”
She turns, looking up at me with those big brown eyes. Her hair is a mess, bunched up from my hands. Under the shirt, I know she’s not wearing a bra and the urge to feel her up, to make sure this is real, is strong–almost a compulsion. I want her. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to stop wanting her, but this is about showing Nadia that she’s more to me than just a warm place. I can get that on sorority row. Here? I get a big bowl of carbs and an awesome chick to eat them with.
Grabbing the spoon, I ladle out the ramen, and pick up both bowls, then head to the living room. Steam rises off the top and the ceramic bottoms are hot. I set both on the coffee table and join her on the couch.
I twirl my fork in the noodles and take a huge bite. “Jesus, that’s good.”
“I’m glad my dollar package of ramen satiates you.” She pulls a blanket over her lap, hiding those gorgeous legs. “I’ve got some pudding cups for dessert.”
“You joke, but I’m a college athlete. We’ll eat just about anything.”
We eat in silence, the only sound is slurping–okay my slurping, she eats like a princess. Or she tries. A drop of soup dribbles down her chin and I grin.
“What?”
“I like you like this.”
“Like what?” she shifts, anxious under my scrutiny. I don’t let up. She needs to get used to it.
“Eating a cheap soup.” I hook a finger in the neck of her shirt, pulling her close enough to get a peek down the front. “Wearing my shirt.” I lick the drop off her chin. “Looking like you just had the best orgasms.”
Her lips part and I kiss her, tasting all that salty goodness. I release her though before it goes too far. Sitting back and taking another spoonful, I ask. “Want to watch Springfield?”
“Okay.” She sets her bowl on the table. “What is this?”
“What is what?”
“This? Do you do this with all your hookups? Sit around, acting all cute, offering to watch shitty TV.”
“First, do not degrade Springfield like that. It’s a masterpiece of teen soap opera that occasionally has a ghost.” She stares at me. “And second, no, I don’t. Ever.” I unscrew the cap of my water bottle and take a swig. My heart is pounding. I don’t know why. I guess I’ve just never had to do this before. Never wanted to do it. But with Nadia, I want to make it perfectly clear. “And third, this,” I point between us, “this isn’t a hook-up. Not to me at least.”
“Then you meant what you said in there? That you want to spend the next six months with me?”
There is no fucking way I can dump my emotions on this girl, especially after telling her about my future. I want Nadia. For the long term, although I suspect that living in Texas, moving to the Kingdom, isn’t one of her goals. She wants a man in a uniform. A man getting knocked around and sweaty. Not one standing on a stage, preaching stuff he doesn’t really believe to an unsuspecting flock.
But playing it safe has never been my style. YOLO. I’ve lived every day at Wittmore like it was my last. I’m not stopping now. If I can only have her until graduation, I’ll take it. We’ll figure out the rest then.
“What we did in there,” I take her hands and kiss her knuckles, “and what we’re going to do after we binge watch some Springfield, makes you mine. I don’t mean just in the bedroom. Or when it’s convenient. Or when one of us wants to get off. I mean all the time.”
“You mean, public.”
“As much as you want.” I run my hand through my hair, suddenly aware that she may not want the same thing. “As much as you’ll give me.”
“Axel Rakestraw–committed boyfriend?” She tries it out, then shakes her head. “Are you sure?”
“You think I can’t commit?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“In theory, yes, but isn’t this wild, unpredictable goalie your whole thing?”
“That’s the thing about goalies, darlin’, we’re the most committed player on the ice. When you’ve got a two-hundred pound power forward barreling toward you, hurling a puck seventy miles an hour, you have no choice but to commit or get seriously hurt.” I pull her onto my lap. “Commitment isn’t a problem for me, T. I’ve just never found the girl I’ve wanted to slow down for.”
She exhales, eyes wide. “God, this is scary.”
“Being in a relationship with me scares you?” Fuck, I’m doing this all wrong.
“No.” She shakes her head. “Being in a relationship with you excites me. What scares me is the other thing we have to do; tell Twyler.”
“You’re clean.”
It takes a moment for his words to process, at least until Reese slams his elbow into my side.
“Son of a–” I mutter, rubbing the spot. Coach’s eyebrow rises. “Sorry, Coach. I guess I was just scared something would happen and the test would show up positive again.”
“Check it yourself.” He hands me the card with the test results. And sure enough, the blood test is clean.
“Thank god.” I exhale, unaware of how I’d been bracing myself for bad news. “Because I’m clean as a damn whistle. I haven’t touched anything for weeks. Not even a drop of alcohol.”
Bryant nods. “You’ve shown a lot of maturity during this, Rakestraw. I’m impressed. Your focus has been on the ice, and the results are there.”
My focus hasn’t strictly been on the ice. There’s a hot little piece of trouble I can’t stay away from. Her body is more addictive than any drug I’ve ever taken.
“I did want to let you know that due to the presence of rohypnol in your prior test the NCAA reported it to local and campus authorities.”
“They did?” I ask, sharing a look with Reese. “What does that mean?”
“It means they know someone on campus is dosing drinks with an illegal and controlled substance. Everyone is in agreement you were probably not the intended victim. Unfortunately, unless it happens again, or a witness comes forward, I doubt much will come of it.”
It’s a harsh reminder of why it’s important to keep Nadia close and to stay alert. Whoever tried to fuck with her is still out there.
“Anything else?” he asks.
“No, sir.” We both answer.
“Good.” He jerks his chin. “Then get out of here.”
Reese heads out the door, but I indicate to him that I need a minute. I hold back until Bryant notices. “I did have one more thing.”
“Make it fast.”
“I, uh,” Shit. How do I start this? “I found out over the break that my father may have interfered with this situation. I was aware that it hadn’t hit the press and just figured it was the athletic department PR team or something.”
Coach leans back in his seat. “I’m aware that he made some calls.”
“It was never my intention for him to do that. I made a mistake–two–the weed and then being unaware of my surroundings to the point that I was drugged. I accept responsibility for those.”
“Son, I’ve seen your improvement over the past few weeks. Like I said, I’m impressed. You went above and beyond. Showing up early, adding in extra weight sessions, and from what I hear, your efforts exhibited with the team have filtered into your personal life.”
Partying. Puck Bunnies. Burning out at both ends.
“I wanted to prove that I was serious.”
“You have. Be proud of your efforts. I know that I am and so is the team.” This time when he waves me off, I don’t hesitate to leave. Reese is waiting in the hallway.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great,” I admit. Which feels weird, but I’m not going to question it.
“I told the guys. They want to go celebrate. Badger Den?”
“Yeah,” I’m already reaching for my phone. “But I’m not drinking.”
“Still?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling good. Fit. I don’t wake up with a hangover or wondering what I did the night before. I feel sharper in the goal and if this is my last season, I want to leave it all on the ice, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” If anyone would, it would be Reese. There’s no one more dedicated to this sport and team. While he texts the team, I shoot off a message to Nadia.
GoalieGod: Passed my test.
T: Yay!
GoalieGod: Come celebrate with me.
T: Is this your way of getting me to come over?
GoalieGod: Nah. At the Den with the team.
For a second there’s no reply. No little dots indicating a message is being written. Shit. Maybe it’s too fast. Too soon.
“You ready?” Reese asks, tucking his phone into his pocket and grabbing his bag off the floor. “Everyone is headed over now.”
My phone vibrates.
T: So we’re doing this?
A surge of emotion runs through me. Adrenaline. Dopamine. Whatever it is that elevates life. That’s what Nadia makes me feel. I shoot off a reply.
GoalieGod: Fuck yeah, we’re doing this.
“Your girl’s here,”Kirby says, his voice raised over the noisy bar.
Reese and I both look over at the front door. Twyler walks in first, hair up in a ponytail, wearing Reese’s sweatshirt. My gaze skips over her. Nadia comes in behind her, cheeks pink from the cold December air. I haven’t seen her since Sunday morning, when I reluctantly left her bed for practice. She’d had to work that afternoon and then Twyler got back and they spent the evening grocery shopping and running errands.
It took everything in me not to sneak back in her bedroom window, but that wasn’t how she wanted Twyler to find out about us. Now, I lean back on the bar, waiting to see how she wants to play this. Because what I want to do is walk over there and shove my tongue down her throat, but that may be a little much.
“I thought her friend was into chasing football players. Guess she realized hockey players are better.”
I turn and see that it’s Murphy running his mouth.
“Shut up, Murph,” Reese says, coming to her defense first. “She’s had a hard few months. The last thing she needs is one of you sniffing around.”
“Chill, Cap,” he says, draining the last of the beer out of his glass, “I’m just wondering if anyone’s given her an introduction to their stick.”
“Fuck, Murphy,” I say in a low drawl, “I don’t want to have to kick your ass. I just got off probation.”
“What? Suddenly you care about Puck Bunnies? You’ve got more notches on your bedpost than anyone on the team.” He thinks for a second. “Well, maybe other than Jefferson.”
He’s not wrong, which is probably why I feel even more defensive. I’ve been a dick to a lot of women. Slipping in late at night, and leaving early in the morning. Thinking with my cock and nothing else. And I could kick Murphy’s ass right now. Teach him a lesson in respect. I should kick his ass. Instead, I do the one thing that will keep me out of trouble and shut him the hell up.
Twyler and Nadia have just reached the bar, and I push off and go straight for her.
“Hey Darlin’.”
“Hey.” A sweet smile plays on her lips.
“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?” Those brown eyes widen, then glance around at the packed bar. I rest my hand on her hip and repeat, “Okay?”
Her gaze snaps back to mine. “Okay.”
It’s all the approval I need, and I slide my hand under her hair, cupping the back of her neck. With her close and in my grasp, I tilt her face just the way I want it.
Twyler’s voice cuts over the crowd. “What the–”
But my mouth is on Nadia’s, drawing her in. She’s nervous, I feel it in the kiss, but I take my time, like we’re the only two in the world, coaxing her lips apart, until her tongue meets mine. Fuck she tastes good, minty. Sweet. Mine.
I take my time releasing her because I know every damn eye in the bar is on the two of us.
Good.
“Jesus Christ, Axel!” Two hands shove me from the side and I stumble back. “What the hell?”
“Damn, TG.” I rub my arm dramatically. “You’re strong.”
“Shut up,” she barks, before her anger shifts to her boyfriend. “Did you know about this?”
“What?” he asks, eyes narrowing at me. “No. I swear.”
“B-but when? How?”
“We became non-drinking buddies.” I throw my arm around Nadia’s shoulders and press a kiss on her temple. “And then we became more.”
She opens her mouth again, but thinks better of it, saying, “Nad, can we talk?” She gives me a dark glare. “In private.”
“Of course.”
She starts to extricate herself from me, but I’m not quite ready to hand her over to the she-wolf pacing a few feet away. I drop my mouth to hers, kissing her again, wanting everyone to know this is real. When I’m satisfied my point has been made, I pull back, and run my thumb over the shell of her ear, over her piercing. “I’ll grab you something to drink.”
“Thanks.”
Twyler steps forward and grabs my girlfriend’s hand and drags her across the bar to an open booth. When I drag my eyes away from how amazing her ass looks in that skirt, I see that every guy on the team is staring at me, shocked.
Especially Murphy, who I give a hard look. He and the rest of the guys make the wise decision to go play pool, leaving just me, Reese, Reid, and Jefferson at the bar.
“What?” I say, using their dumbfoundedness as an opportunity to hit the bar. “Hey, Mike, two cans of Reaper?”
“Sure thing.”
“Dude, I told you to stay the fuck away from her,” Reese says, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s vulnerable, you know what she’s been through.”
“I do. Way more than you do.” I take one of the cans Mike sets on the bar and pop the top. “This isn’t something we rushed into. We’re friends. We know each other.” I take a swallow of water and then admit. “I like her.”
“God dammit, man. Seriously?”
I grin. “So fucking much.”
Reid, lifts his beer and points across the room, where the girls seem to be in a deep, animated, discussion. “What do you think they’re saying?”
“Probably that Nadia is going to be just another in a long stream of broken-hearted girls leaving the Manor,” Jeff says. “That you only think with your cock and are in no way boyfriend material.”
“Sounds about right,” Reid says. “She thinks you’re a ho.”
“Oh, Twy is definitely telling her that I’m a useless fuckboy,” I say, under no delusions.
“I mean…” Reid says, “she’s not wrong. You have a reputation for being a slut.”
“So does Nadia,” Jefferson says. “You can’t deny it. Chick’s been chasing jerseys since she got on campus.”
“That’s over. For both of us.” I’m not letting these dumbasses get under my skin. “We’re well aware of our mutual reputations and don’t give a fuck.”
“Well, good. Congratulations.” Reid lifts his glass. “Here’s to not giving a fuck.”
I knock my can against his glass, and Jefferson does the same, before heading over to watch the game on the big screen, leaving me and Reese alone to finish the conversation they’d interrupted.
“Give it to me.”
“Give you what?”
“The lecture. An ass kicking. Whatever you need to do to make this right between me and you and me and Twyler.”
“All in all, I don’t hate it,” he says, surprising me. “She needs someone that understands what she’s been through and I think you do. But what happens at the end of the year?”
I know Reese and that question is about more than me and Nadia.
“We’ve been honest with each other. She knows about my family and the obligations I have to them–where I’m headed after graduation.” I swallow back the lump building in my throat. “And I know about her goals–the kind of life she wants to live.”
A life I can’t give her.
“So this isn’t a long term thing?”
“It is what it is, for as long as we want it.” I shrug. “Anything more than that is between us.”
“Fair,” he admits. “If you make each other happy, and you keep killing it on the ice, it’s really none of my fucking business.”
I tilt my head toward the booth, where the emotions seem to have settled down. Nadia glances over at me and my heart skips a goddamn beat. Whatever they’re discussing needs to wrap up soon. I’m ready to be out and proud with my girl.
“By the way,” I say to Reese, as I start across the bar, “you owe me a box of condoms. I’m gonna need them.”