28. Evan
Chapter 28
Evan
" Y our golf game hasn't improved at all, has it?"
Sophie glares at me over her driver, which she's currently holding upside down. Again.
"I'll have you know I've been practicing."
"With what? A baseball bat?"
"Very funny, Ice Man." She flips the club right-side up. "Some of us have been busy writing award-winning features."
She has a point. Her article—the real one, full of heart and family and something suspiciously like love—has been getting attention from sports media across the country. Even Clark's attempts to trash it backfired when Sophie's honest portrayal of our family resonated with readers.
"You could have practiced between interviews."
"I was too busy defending your honor." She lines up her shot. Or tries to. "Do you know how many people have asked me if you ever smile?"
"And what do you tell them?"
"That you're still a grumpy goalie." She grins. "You just save all your smiles for me."
"Is that right?"
"Mmhmm." She takes a swing that somehow sends the ball ten feet backward.
She retrieves her ball. "Besides, you're much less intimidating now that everyone knows you make chocolate chip pancakes for dinner for Natalia."
I move behind her, adjusting her stance. "You just had to include that detail, didn't you?"
"It was vital to the story." She leans back against me, pushing her ass up against me just slightly. "Really showed your softer side."
"I don't have a softer side."
"Sure you don't." She tilts her head up. "Just like you don't secretly love romantic comedies."
"That was one time! And you tricked me."
"I did not trick you. I simply...neglected to mention the genre when I suggested movie night."
"You said it was an action movie!"
"There was action." She grins. "They ran through an airport. And then there was loads of action in the bedroom later on."
Mike's voice cuts through our ridiculous conversation. "Are you two actually golfing or just flirting again?"
Because, of course my teammates decided to join us today. Something about, "Making sure the Ice Man doesn't get too soft."
"We're practicing!" Sophie retorts.
"That's not what practice looks like," Tom teases.
"It is when your student is hopeless," I mutter.
Sophie elbows me. "I’m right here, dude."
"I’m well aware."
"You know," she adjusts her grip on the club, "some would say it's the teacher's fault if the student doesn't improve."
"Is that what you tell Natalia about her math grades?"
"No, because I'm an excellent math teacher." She takes another swing, this one sending the ball into the trees. "Golf is just...physics-resistant."
"Physics-resistant?"
"Yes. It refuses to obey the laws of nature." She shields her eyes, trying to spot her ball. "Like your smile. Statistically impossible, yet somehow I keep causing it."
"You smiled today," Natalia had said at dinner last week. "Like, three whole times."
"I did not."
"Did too. Sophie counted." She'd grinned. "She keeps track of everything about you."
"Still?" I'd looked at Sophie, who was blushing.
"Always," she'd said softly. "Some stats are worth tracking."
"Focus," I tell her, trying to keep my hands steady as I adjust her grip. "You're supposed to be learning golf."
"Am I?" She presses back against me. "Because I seem to remember this position leading to very different activities in the past."
Mike groans. "We can hear you, you know."
"Then stop eavesdropping!" Sophie says.
"Stop being disgustingly cute!" Tom replies.
"Never!" She turns to face me. "It's in my contract now. Article 3, Section 2: 'Must consistently remind the Ice Man that he's actually a teddy bear’."
"I am not…"
"Tell that to the video of you teaching Natalia to butterfly slide in the kitchen." She pokes my chest. "The internet loves that clip, by the way. Almost as much as they love the one of you falling asleep during movie night."
"You posted that?"
"Julia posted that. I just...provided the footage."
"Traitor."
"Smart journalist." She kisses my jaw. "Always document the important moments."
"Speaking of documenting," I say, pulling her closer, "care to explain why there's a color-coded chart of my saves on our fridge?"
"That's for science."
"Science?"
"Mmhmm. Natalia's science project. We're tracking the correlation between your save percentage and how many times you smile at practice."
Mike laughs. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Nope!" Sophie replies. "The data is very conclusive. His glove-side saves improve twelve percent when he's in a good mood and smiling."
"I do not…"
"The numbers don't lie, Ice Man." She taps my chest. "When you're happier, you're better. Simple physics."
"So hockey isn’t physics-resistant like golf?"
"Absolutely not." She grins up at me. "And you just needed the right scientist to show you that."
"Is that what you are? A scientist?"
"Among other things." She slides her hands up my chest. "Journalist. Math tutor. Golf disaster. Expert Ice Man translator."
"Translator?"
"Someone has to translate your grunts and glares to normal people."
I laugh despite myself. "Normal people?"
"You know, people who don't speak fluent grump." She gives me a serious expression. "'Hmph' means 'I love you, but I'm too stoic to say it’. 'Whatever' means 'you're right, but I'll never admit it’. And my personal favorite…"
I kiss her, mostly to shut her up. Mostly.
"Get a room!" Tom insists.
"We have a golf cart," Sophie calls back without looking.
"TMI!" Mike groans. "Some of us are trying to play actual golf here!"
"Whatever!" She turns back to me. "Now, where were we?"
"You were about to explain why my saves improve when I'm happy."
"Oh, that's easy." She wraps her arms around my neck. "Because when you're happy, you're not overthinking. Not trying to protect yourself. Not…"
"Being the Ice Man?"
"Being afraid." She meets my eyes. "You're just...you.”
"Sophie..."
"The guy I fell in love with." She smiles softly. "The guy who finally let himself be happy."
And maybe that's the real victory here.
Not her improved golf game (which remains horrific).
Not my improved mood (which everyone comments on).
Not even the success of her article (though that helps).
But this. Us.
The way she saw past my ice to find my warmth. The way she makes me brave enough to be happy.
"I love you," I say because I can now. Because she made me brave enough for that too.
"I know." She grins. "The data supports it."
"The data?"
"Mmhmm. Increased smile frequency. Improved save percentage. Dramatic decrease in grumpy grunts per practice."
"You're impossible."
"You like it."
"Yeah." I pull her closer. "I really do."
"So," she says against my lips, "about that golf cart..."
“Ha! You know we can’t do that in the golf cart. Not with all these prying eyes.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “I was just kidding.” She glances back toward the clubhouse. “Isn’t there a private changing room at the clubhouse?” She raises her eyebrows seductively.
I can already feel my cock stirring in my pants. I think back to the time I had to relieve myself in the men’s room at the clubhouse.
I grab her hand and quickly lead her to the golf cart. We jump in and take off like a shot, not even bothering to explain ourselves to Tom and Mike. They’ll know exactly what’s going on anyway.
After we’re in the changing room (thank God no one else was in there!) and I’ve locked the door behind us, I sit down on the bench and pull her onto my lap, so she's straddling me. The intimacy of the position sends a rush of heat through my body. Sophie's eyes meet mine, filled with desire and excitement.
"You sure about this?" I ask, my voice low and husky.
"More than sure," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear.
I capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, my hands roaming over her body. She responds eagerly, her fingers tangling in my hair as she presses closer to me. The feel of her against me, the taste of her mouth, drives me wild with need.
My hands slide under her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of her back, her sides, her stomach. She gasps as I trace the curve of her breasts, her nipples hardening under my touch. I can feel the heat between her legs, and I can’t wait to be inside her. She arches against me as I slip my fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her gasp and moan.
"Fuck, Evan," she pants, her hips moving in rhythm with my fingers. "Don't stop."
I don't. I keep fucking her with my fingers, feeling her get wetter and wetter. She grinds against my hand, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I can feel her tightening around me, her body coiling tighter and tighter until she's on the edge of release.
"Come for me, Sophie," I growl, my voice thick with desire. "Let me feel you come all over my fingers."
She does, her body convulsing with pleasure as she moans into my neck trying to be quiet. I can feel her pussy pulsing around my fingers, her wetness coating my hand. It's the hottest thing I've ever felt.
Sophie's hands are just as eager, exploring my chest, my shoulders, my arms. She tugs at my shirt, pulling it over my head, and I do the same to hers. The cool air hits our skin, but it does nothing to dampen the heat between us.
I trail kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her chest, until I reach her breasts. I unclasp her bra and let it fall to the ground. I take one nipple into my mouth, sucking and teasing until she's writhing against me. I move to the other, giving it the same attention, loving the way she responds to my touch.
"I need you inside me, Evan," she begs, her voice breathless. "Please, baby."
I don't need to be told twice. I lift her slightly, just enough to unbutton my pants and push them down along with my boxers. My cock springs free, hard and ready. She reaches down, pulling her skort and thong to the side and guides me to her entrance, slowly lowering herself onto me.
"Fuck, you're so tight," I groan, my hands gripping her hips. "And so fucking wet."
She moans, her head falling back as she takes me in inch by inch. The feeling of her surrounding me, the tightness and the heat, is almost too much to bear. I grip her hips, guiding her as she begins to move, rising and falling in a rhythm that's both torturous and incredible.
Our breaths come in ragged gasps, our bodies slick with sweat as we move together. I can feel her tightening around me, her body coiling tighter and tighter until she's on the edge of release. I reach between us, finding her clit with my thumb, and rub gentle circles until she's crying out my name, her body convulsing with pleasure.
The sight of her coming undone, the feel of her around me, pushes me over the edge. I come hard, my body shuddering with the force of my release. We hold onto each other, riding out the waves of pleasure until we're both spent and breathless.
But I'm not done with her yet. I lift her off me and turn her around, so she's facing away from me. I position myself under her ready to enter her again, my cock already hard.
"You want more, don't you?" I growl, my voice thick with desire. "You want me to fuck you from behind, don't you?"
"Yes," she pants, her voice breathless. "Please, Evan. Fuck me."
I guide myself into her once more, relishing the sensation as I fill her completely. Sophie lets out a low moan, reaching back and holding on to me to brace herself. I start to move, slowly at first, savoring every inch of her.
"God, you feel amazing," I whisper, my hands gripping her hips tightly.
I pick up the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the small room, mingling with our heavy breathing and muffled moans. Sophie pushes back against me, meeting each thrust with equal fervor.
"Harder," she gasps. "Please, Evan, harder."
I oblige, pounding into her with renewed vigor. One hand snakes around to her front, my fingers finding her clit once more. I rub tight circles, feeling her body tense and tremble beneath me.
Sophie's breath comes in short, sharp gasps as I drive into her relentlessly. Her fingers continue to grip me and I can feel her getting close again, her inner walls clenching around me.
"That's it, baby," I encourage her, my voice raspy with exertion. "Come for me again. Let me feel you."
With a muffled cry, she shatters, her body shaking as waves of pleasure wash over her. The pulsing of her muscles around me is too much, and I follow her over the edge, burying myself deep inside her as I come.
We stay like that for a moment, both of us panting heavily, before I slowly pull out. Sophie turns to face me, her cheeks flushed and her hair disheveled. She looks utterly ravished and incredibly sexy.
"That was..." she starts, then trails off, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.
I pull her close, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, it was," I agree, my voice soft.
We take a moment to catch our breath and compose ourselves. Sophie straightens her skort while I pull up my pants. We exchange knowing glances as we quickly freshen up, trying to erase any obvious signs of our tryst.
"We should probably head back," I say reluctantly. "Tom and Mike are probably wondering where we disappeared to."
Sophie nods, but there's a mischievous glint in her eye. "True. But let's take the scenic route back, shall we?" She winks at me. "I'm not quite ready to rejoin civilization just yet."
I grin, pulling her in for one more passionate kiss before we unlock the door and slip out of the changing room. As we make our way back to the golf cart, I can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The thrill of our secret encounter, the lingering heat between us, it all adds to the intoxicating mix of emotions coursing through me.
We climb into the cart, and I start it up, deliberately taking a winding path back to the course. Sophie's hand rests on my thigh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns that send shivers up my spine.
"You know," she says, her voice low and teasing, "we still haven't christened this golf cart."
I chuckle, shaking my head. "You're insatiable, you know that?"
She leans in close, her breath tickling my ear. "Only for you, baby."
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes shining with happiness. "I love you, Evan."
"I love you too, Sophie." I kiss her softly, feeling a contentment I've never known before. "Always."
My heart is full, because I know that this is just the beginning. The beginning of us, of our love, of a future that's bright and full of promise.