Chapter 19 Allison
“Ugh, I have nothing to wear. I need to double up on those pilates classes at Paige’s studio.” I huff over the phone.
“Girl, shut up! You are a curvy queen.” Emalyn shouts, her voice echoing through my room since she’s on speaker. “Go put on those pants I got you. The tight ones that make your ass look magical.”
I giggle at her antics.
“I don’t know, those take me like fifteen minutes to squeeze into.”
“Oh, I got it. You’re worried about how long they might take to get off if— sorry, when a certain hockey daddy—“I dive for the phone and take it off speaker.
Matty and Hudson are just down the hall.
God forbid they overhear anything. Hudson is already so attached.
I can’t be selfish when it comes to him.
TJ has failed him left and right. If Tate is a healthy male role model for him then there’s no way I can mess that up for him. He’s been let down too many times.
Not to mention the way I see Matty watching me with a wistful look on his face. Like he’s imagining I am his mom too. He slips up sometimes and calls me mom. Mostly just copying Hudson.
I place the phone to my ear just in time to catch the last bit of what she says.
“— with his big cowboy dick.” I blush down to my toes.
“Emalyn, what are you even talking about? You're making me regret ever telling you.” I shake my head. I don’t mean it. We tell each other everything.
“Hey, I’m just telling you what Ronan said. And you know... if Ronan says it’s big then— “
“Ew! Brother, remember?” I cringe. “But are you finally admitting that you two are inevitable?”
“We aren’t. You already know why Alli.” She sighs sadly.
“I know. I just don’t think Ronan would feel the same...” I play with a loose string on the fabric of my pajama pants.
“Well, maybe Tate won’t either.” She shoots back. My chest pangs painfully. “Maybe he’ll be happy to give you a repeat performance, too.”
“It was the best I've ever had. How embarrassing is that? It was only like a minute.”
“Hey, things are looking up. Divorced from that shithead, orgasm from your sexy as sin neighbour. Who knows what else is on the docket? This could be the best year of your sex life.” Emalyn says cheerfully, her mood doing a one eighty at the prospect of me finally getting laid.
To be fair, the last stretch of my marriage was a rather dry spell.
“Yeah, well he hasn’t tried to make a move on me since. Am I supposed to initiate now?”
“I do some of the initiating when I'm looking for a sneaky link, but it’s okay if that’s not your style right now. You can let him come to you, you can go to him. that’s what casual is.”
“Maybe I enjoyed the whole thing a lot more than he did.”
“Don’t go there. No self-doubt allowed. He has been sniffing around you like a dog circling a bone. The man was down bad for you after a first glance.” Emalyn says pointedly.
I huff and puff as I jump to get the jeans up.
“I’m probably going with leggings today.”
“Hmm… I know what you could wear if you really wanna guarantee yourself some action tonight...” Emalyn singsongs suggestively.
I snort.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.” She tells me. I balk. “No way. I’m not doing that. I’m a professional”
“You sure are. Professionals wear the jersey. You always wear a Grady jersey.”
“Because Ronan is my brother. That’s different. I don’t want to seem like a puck bunny.”
My worst nightmare is being seen as a jersey chaser or something. I can already see the way the press would spin me dating my ex-husband’s teammate.
“Yes, but you have the perfect reason to wear it. Matty. Duh.” She says in a way that after fifteen years of friendship, I know she’s rolling her eyes. “I sent you something, by the way. It should be there soon.”
“Okay… What is it?”
“You’ll see.” She says, voice full of mischief. “Okay, I gotta go. The model just came back from the outfit change, so I’m needed again.”
“Okay, bye! Love you.”
“Love you! You better have a story to tell about the Hockey Daddy when I get back!”
“Emalyn!” I scold and hang up on her laughter.
The doorbell downstairs rings. A courier stands there with a package.
“Allison Campbell?” I accept it and sign for the package. It’s soft and inside feels like it could be…
I rip it open right there at the door. Three sapphire blue and black Bruisers Jerseys. Big bold letters spell out Bridges. 24.
I bite my lip, squeezing the fabric in my hands.
The possibility of how Tate might react has my toes prematurely curling in my fuzzy socks.
What could it hurt?
I ran up the stairs, grinning like a teenager.
******
“Do you see Dad?” Matty asks as we make our way to the seats.
Instead of sitting up in the family box, the boys and I are sitting down close to the ice in Ronan's family seats.
A lot of the tickets the players get to pass out to friends and family are seated next to each other.
I recognize some of the faces around us.
Some friendly, some not so much. particularly Tony’s wife Amanda and her sister Ashley. Started out as puck bunnies and just as they planned, are stay at home wives with unlimited access to the AmEx.
Nothing wrong with that, except for the mean girl energy they give off in droves. I see them making sideways glances at us and whispering before we even take our seats.
I take a deep breath and ignore the unease that settles in my chest when I’m around girls like them. Especially considering these two specific girls knew all about TJs… indiscretions through his friends on the team.
Still, I found out about the whole thing through the ongoing texts to one of the women. I rub the spot on my chest that aches just from remembering one in particular.
I bought my wife the same perfume so I can smell you around the house all the time.
Emalyn had threatened to do a variety of bodily harm on my behalf once I’d shared my findings. While I was grateful, I just wanted to run far away.
“Mom! Can you take a picture of Matty and Me in our jerseys with the ice behind us?” Hudson calls, bouncing with excitement. He’s come to these games plenty to support his Uncle Ronan, but his excitement is palpable tonight. I think it has everything to do with having Matty here with him.
I snapped a few pictures. My favourite ones are when their faces are lit up as the players enter the ice from the tunnels.
My heart skips a beat as they do. I let out a shuttering breath, trying to exhale the nerves.
The Bruisers take a lap around the rink on skates before they hit the ice for warmups.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t my favourite part of the game. When I spot number 24 among the blue jerseys my heart stalls. He’s already looking right at me while he does his hip stretches.
I covertly fan my hearing cheeks.
To anyone else watching, he’s not necessarily doing anything inappropriate. To me though, as someone who’s thought about what other talents he may have since he gifted me that insane orgasm... It’s absolutely filthy.
He does motions that look like thrusts into the ice. My imagination runs wild with the visual. I’ve been around hockey my whole life. I’ve watched and even played in college until dropping out due to pregnancy. I know what they’re doing isn’t meant to be sexual.
But Tate doing them? That man makes everything into a thirst trap. Especially as my mind goes to how he looked rubbing oil all over his abdomen during the calendar shoot, and how expertly he touched me in my kitchen. My fingers delicately touch the side of my mouth to make sure I’m not drooling.
He shoots me a wink. My stomach flutters. My cheeks flush even hotter. I have to glance away to give myself a chance to breathe.
I don’t notice him approaching until he taps the glass with his stick. My head snaps back up.
He tosses a puck over the glass. Matty catches it. He gets another and tosses it to Hudson. They hug them to their chests then high five.
Tate's eyes linger on me a beat before the whistle is called and he has to join his team.
“What? I’m just saying I love coming to the boy aquarium.” A southern voice giggles from behind me. I turn and see two gorgeous women coming down the concrete steps towards the ice. A woman in her fifties or sixties with big curly hair and a trim waist swats playfully at the younger woman’s arm.
“Presley Ann Bridges. Honestly, Honey, I don't know where you even come up with half the stuff you say.”
My breath catches. Presley Bridges. Now that I look closer at them, they do bear resemblance to Tate and even Matty. Not to mention the southern drawl.
I fiddle with the butterfly pendant around my neck. Tate didn’t mention they’d be coming.
“I didn’t come up with it! It’s fitting though, right? Look at the coach! There’s even some eye candy for you too.” She waggles her eyebrows. They both giggle as they plop down into the seat next to me.
“Grammy!” Matty shouts from beside me and launches himself towards her.
“Matty! Sweetheart!” She exclaims, equally as surprised to see him. She looks up, probably to see who brought him to the game. When her bouncing eyes land on me, her smile grows. “And who might you be?”
I open my mouth to answer but am cut off.
“This is Allison! She’s our neighbour. And over there— Hey, Huddy!” He waves Hudson over. “This is my best friend Hudson. We’ve already decided to be brothers though.”
“Is that right?” She nods along, eyes full of amusement. “Well, Hudson. In that case you better call me Grammy.”
“Yes ma’am.” Hudson says enthusiastically.
“Oh no, we don’t say ma’am to her. She says it makes her feel old.” Matty says, patting Hudson’s shoulder.
“It’s nice to meet you, Allison.” His mother says settling into her seat beside mine. “I’m Rachel Bridges. This is Presley.”
“Nice to meet you both.” I smile politely. My racing heart and fingers fiddling with my necklace probably give away my nerves. Presley's eyes flick down to it. They widen a fraction. Then she’s smirking like she knows something.
“Cute necklace.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” I exhale, my eyes flicking back to the ice, back to Tate. I hadn’t even noticed the puck drop. The game is in full swing now. Tate battles for the puck, swiping it out from the Hawks and passing it to Ripley.
They move it down the ice towards the goal.
They put pressure on Ripley. Fitz is having a hard time getting open, the Hawks team leaving little room for him to manoeuvre.
Liam’s season has been one to watch. I’ve scheduled him for more interviews and press conferences than any other player in the team this year.
I’m sure the hawks have watched tape and noticed too. They’ve been trying to shut him out all game.
Ripley passes to Tate who snags another goal for the team.
The Bruisers jump up from the bench cheering for him. He doesn’t celebrate with them though. A grin lights up his face.
He turns his head and instantly finds us in the crowd. Tate taps his helmet and points to Matty. Presley lets out a cheer from one side of me, while Matty and Hudson go wild on the other side. It’s all background noise, as I’m a slave to his gaze. Unable to look away until he does first.
Then it all comes rushing in. I realize the boys are shaking my arm with excitement.
“Did you see? Did you see?” They gush on and on about his goal. “He scored for you, Matty!”
“So…” Rachel says with a knowing smile. I give a nervous smile, and a breathy chuckle escapes me. I brush a strand of hair away from my face, even though it wasn’t out of place. “Tate's dad used to go on and on about the butterfly effect. Have you heard of it?”
“Oh. Um, yes. I know the general idea.” I nod.
“Owen, Tate’s dad, and I had a rather bizarre meet.
I had both my boys in the car with me when we had broken down after a wrong turn down an unfamiliar highway.
We were on a trip to visit their biological father’s family in Minnesota.
He brought us up to his cabin to wait out the storm.
We got snowed in with Owen for a week. We lived in Texas at the time.
” She goes on with her story, using her hands often as she speaks.
“Anyways, he always talked about how different things would be if either of us had made a single different decision that day. Then we never would’ve met. ”
“Like going back in the house for your keys or taking an extra minute on your hair can lead to a series of different paths.” I say, nodding along to her story.
“Right. So anyways, Owen used to say I was a butterfly that flapped her wings in Texas and changed his life up in Minnesota.” She gives me a warm smile and wipes a tear from her eye at the memory.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Tate mentioned this was your first year without him.” I place a comforting hand on her shoulder.
She gives me a warm smile.
“Tate took it hard, even if he tries not to show it. Presley… was his princess.” She shakes her head as if to shake away the emotion seeming to bubble up in her voice.
She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “That’s why I decided to surprise these two with a visit.
Little did I know I’d be in for such a treat, meeting you two. ”
The moment is broken up by a loud cheer going up in the crowd. Another goal. My eyes move of their own accord and find Tate on the ice.
This time, he points the stick at Hudson. The boys absolutely lose their minds, again. They’re cheering like little warriors with a battle cry. I can’t help the pure joy that bubbles up and takes form as a laugh.
“Mom… He dedicated a goal to me too! Can you believe it?” Hudson’s eyes are comically wide and twinkling. His mouth is open slightly as his eyes stay on Tate the rest of the game. Like he’s recording every move of his new hero.
My chest squeezes at the hope and awe in his face.
Tate is on fire tonight. The other team has been so worried about covering Fitz and Ripley that Tate’s had room to show off his skill tonight. He sits on the bench, resting between ice time. His eyes on me as he squirts water into his mouth. Flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.
This hockey game is playing between my emotions and libido too much tonight. I’m getting whiplash. They’re winning 3-2 when it’s time to break for the third period.