12. Blake
Chapter 12
Blake
It’s a good thing hockey is a violent sport, because I’ve got a lot of pent-up frustration to work out.
Mostly at myself, for not being able to focus when I need to and thus barely getting a passing grade for a topic I know by heart, and for still not having called the only mother figure I’ve ever had so we can catch up.
There’s also the anger at my mother. She texted me this morning, the first I’ve heard from her in months. She was never much of a maternal figure, but I don’t think I’m wrong for wishing she cared about me enough to warrant a text longer than Hockey good?
Finally, and perhaps most pressingly, there is the sexual frustration of pretending to date the hottest woman on the planet and not being able to touch her. When she squeezed my ass in that salsa class I felt it through my entire body, like a fiery bliss I’d never felt before. Even now, as she sits in the first row with Alissa, bundled up from head to toe in Brookside University merch and my jersey– fuck , that jersey is my undoing–it’s taking everything I have not to take her into a broom closet and prove I’m hers. It’s mortifying, the effect she has on me without even trying.
Her feet are propped up against the boards, a textbook clutched in her gloved hands. I know she’s here for my benefit only; she would much rather be in her dorm, nice and warm and away from the crowd. I hadn’t asked her to come, either, having decided to give her some space after our recent flirtations almost turned into something more. She just came, jersey and all, a cute little sign at her feet that says G o Blakey-bear!
Yeah. I’m never living that one down.
Brookside’s colors are black and gold, which is a good thing, as by the end of the second period, I’m practically dripping blood.
The moment the buzzer goes I skate over to where Alexis and Alissa sit near the sin bin and put my hands against the plexiglass, waiting for her to do the same.
“Oh my god, Blake!” she gasps. “Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be with a doctor? Do we need to take you to a hospital?”
Oh, right. Sometimes I forget what we must look like to people who don’t follow the sport, all that blood and sweat and violence. What can I say? I like to play rough.
I shoot her a wink. “No worries, Sunshine. Most of this blood isn’t even mine.”
Her face relaxes only slightly, allowing me to really take her in. Alexis looks pale, those big eyes red with fatigue, her hands shaking ever so slightly—she’s exhausted. She shouldn’t be here. She should be at home, in bed, getting the rest she needs. Why isn’t she telling me to fuck off and leaving? Why does she stay when it only causes her harm?
Alexis angles her head, shaking me from my thoughts. “Promise?”
“I promise.” I press a kiss to her palm through the glass, missing her warmth. My body aches with abuse and all I want is to feel her in my arms, to get even a whisper of a kiss from those soft lips. But those things aren’t mine to wish for. Not really. “Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? I’ll text you when I get home to prove I’m in one piece.”
Despite her exhaustion, a mischievous smile creeps onto Alexis’ lips. “No way. Not until you score the winning goal and dedicate it to me.”
I grin at her as Levi grabs me by the collar to pull me back to where the team has gathered, butterflies wreaking havoc in my stomach. She might not be truly mine, but I don’t care. Because she’s just given me permission to claim her, mark her as mine.
And so, as Levi pulls me further and further away from her, I press my fingers together to form a heart meant just for her.
Now all I need is to score and seal the deal. Challenge accepted.