12. Othelia
Chapter twelve
Othelia
With lunch well underway, the boys are talking shop while us girls enjoy the rare warm day in Chicago and lounging poolside. There are a lot of single guys on the team, so only six other wives and girlfriends have joined us.
I have no idea what they’re talking about, conversations going back and forth between the groups, so I zone out, feeling like I don’t have much to contribute. Instead, I lay on my back in the grass, soaking in as much sun as I can while trying to ignore the insistent pull I feel towards the outdoor bar.
My skin prickled the minute he walked in, a case of beer under his arm as he greeted the guys. Since then, he’s spent most of the afternoon on the opposite side of the yard from me, but even from here I can still feel every time his gaze burns a trail across my exposed flesh. Maybe Sloane’s right. The only time his eyes have moved away is to glare at one of the other guys, whose eyes linger on me a little too long.
By mid-afternoon, my body is buzzing from his attention, or it could’ve been from the beers I've downed to calm my nerves. I can’t help but tap my foot on the grass, not able to lie still any longer.
“Sloane, let’s get in the pool,” I say, sitting up and resting on my elbow as I slide my sunglasses on top of my head.
“Mmm, I think I might just sit on the side. I might beach myself if I attempt it.” She laughs, holding her belly.
“Ooh, we’ll join you,” one girlfriend, whose name I didn’t catch, chirps in response. The six of them stand, stripping off their beach covers and revealing tiny bikinis.
My stomach drops and my heart pounds in my throat, now dreading removing my clothes as I watch their SoulCycle sculpted bodies, toned and expertly tanned legs, sashay towards the water. This was such a dumb idea. I had no plans to actually swim today—I was happy to chill fully clothed by the water—but the longer his intense stare bores into me, the more likely I would spontaneously combust right here on Marcus and Chrissy’s lawn.
Sloane looks between Rook at the bar, now taking long pulls from his beer, and me standing frozen with my hands clenching the hem of my t-shirt. “Til… pool?” she questions, a little too loudly, with a wink. Asshole.
Fuck it. Mustering all of my strength, I yank the fabric over my head, tossing it back where I was laying. No way am I looking anywhere but the ground as I take off my shorts and chuck them on the clothes pile before rushing as casually as possible to the pool. As I sit next to Sloane, I escape the heat by sliding into the water and instantly feel a sense of relief from its coverage.
I swim up to the edge. Sloane’s eyes dip from Rook back to me and a conspiratorial smile crosses her lips.
“You know,” she leans in so only I can hear, gripping her stomach, “he choked on his drink when you took off your tee.”
“Sure...” I scoff. “The hotties that stripped at the same time probably blew him away.”
“Yeah. I’m sure that’s why his eyes haven’t moved off you all afternoon.”
Multiple screams of “Cannonball!” interrupt our conversation, before a tidal wave washes over us.
Marcus whistles to get everyone’s attention. “It’s time for the annual Hellhound chicken fight.”
Everyone slows their swimming as partners drift towards each other, pairing up. I move towards the wall, obviously not a Hellhound, clearing space.
“Well, obviously we’re out,” Rian says, nuzzled in between Sloane’s legs on the side of the pool.
“Don’t be silly, Tilly can do it,” Sloane says. “She’s a James. She can be my representative.” Wait, what?
“I am not carrying my sister around in a chicken fight.” Rian shakes his head vehemently, but Sloane taps his leg and the sly smile that forms on both of their faces makes me think they are up to something.
“Maybe the fresh blood needs to prove his spot,” Rian calls over his shoulder. “Wills, you’ve got my sister, right?”
My eyes go wide. I can’t believe this is their plan. Looking over at Rook, I see he’s still next to the bar, his eyebrows creasing as his jaw clenches. Well, shit.
“It’s fine. I…”
“I can take her, if it’s too much of a hassle for you, Wills.” As Maverick approaches the pool, he sheds his shirt effortlessly. How do guys do that and still make it look hot?
“No!” Rook practically yells, almost shoving Mav out of the way. “I’ve got her.” He swiftly removes his shirt, revealing his toned physique, and starts jogging towards me.
Good Lord, Tilly, shut your fucking mouth. Just because the guy’s abs have abs doesn’t give you the right to ogle him like a piece of meat.
Except I can’t look away. His forearm tattoos, I’ve only seen glimpses of, seamlessly transition into full sleeves, continuing onto his chest. Black and gray designs of nature bracket his arms. His chest though is what catches my attention. An ice rink in the middle of a forest makes up the expanse across his chest. Over his heart stands a woman with long flowing hair holding the hand of a little boy, both rugged up like it’s in the middle of winter. It’s mesmerizing.
As he stands beside me, I tear my eyes away and instantly catch the smug expression on his face, a clear indication that he caught my perusal. He crouches next to the pool, and I can’t stop my eyes from dropping back to his bare chest.
“Do you need me to stand here a little longer while you get your fill, or can I get in the water now?” His tongue darts out, licking his lips as he bites back a smile, and I lose the ability to speak.
“I… Uh.” Snickering from Sloane and Rian snaps me out of my stupor and I splash them with the biggest wave I can muster. “Yeah, you can get in.”
A wink. The cocky asshole fucking winks before silently slipping into the water next to me. Like I’m not already sitting in the awkward position of embarrassment at being caught checking him out and so incredibly turned on.
“OK boys, pick up your girls and we’ll start,” Marcus yells from the opposite side of the pool where he reclines next to his wife.
“Wait… what?” I look around for help, trying to work out if I heard him right.
“You know how a chicken fight works, right?” Rook says, too fucking close to me now. Oh fuck, I need to climb on his back. No fucking way. Being the biggest girl in the pool is one thing, but having this guy that I seem to have a massive lady-boner for pick me up is where I draw the line.
I try to laugh off my embarrassment. “It’s fine. We don’t have to. I’m fine sitting this out.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. These guys just called my position on this team into question. So I’m afraid this isn’t up for discussion, Rockstar ,” his voice caresses me as he moves closer.
“You won’t be able to pick me up,” I whisper. My cheeks flame at the admission. He comes to a dead stop right in front of me. I don’t realize I’m backing up to the wall until his arms slide around me, hands pressing into the wall, protecting me from the hit.
I jolt forward, almost bumping into his chest as his arms bracket me, gripping the wall. Our faces are mere inches apart, his breath hot against my already flushed skin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Jesus, he’s going to make me say it again. Looking away, my face burns hot with embarrassment. I repeat myself, this time clearer.
“You won’t be able to pick me up.” I breathe in so deeply that my chest grazes his, making my nipples go hard. I feel his gaze on me, and when I follow his eyes, I notice they’re fixated on the spot where our skin connected.
Inhaling sharply, he takes in my stiffened peaks through the wet material now tightly pressed to my chest. Taking another steadying breath, he looks back up at me, that confident smirk falling.
“My captain is over there. Should I tell him that I quit?” The teasing vanishes, replaced by anger, as his eyes narrow and his mouth twists into a familiar expression.
I glance back and forth between Marcus and him, trying to figure out what he's implying. “If I’m not able to pick you up, then I should just quit, ’cause obviously I’m too weak to be a useful member of this team.”
“But I’m—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Rockstar, because I hope to God you are not about to say anything degrading about the ass that I haven’t been able to stop staring at all day.” The anger is now simmering, stormy eyes darkening as his pupils expand, but his husky tone continues to demand my attention.
“I…” My mouth snaps shut. I’m speechless, my cheeks now flushing for a whole different reason.
His gaze rakes from my eyes to my lips and then lingers on my cleavage, and my mouth becomes like the desert. I lick my lips to gain some sort of moisture back, but the movement snags his attention, causing his gaze to lock back onto my lips. He hovers for a second, drifting closer to me, his eyes never moving from my mouth. Swallowing he looks back up at me as my chest heaves, waiting, wanting him to kiss me. His hand finds mine under the water. He interlocks our fingers as he steps back, bringing me with him, away from the wall. I want to look around, check and see if others are watching, but right now I don't care. I would follow wherever he asks me to go.
“Good girl,” he purrs. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to get between those thighs.”
I stare, wide eyed. A nod is the only response I can offer. Holy hell, we are standing in a pool, surrounded by my brother and all his teammates, and I have never been wetter in my life.
Rook releases my hand and it drifts, lifeless, back to my side, as he circles me like I’m prey and he’s hungry. I try to follow him, but his hand finds my waist, halting my movement. When I feel the warmth of his chest against my back, I can’t help the small whimper that escapes.
He pauses. His fingers flex against my waist, gently indenting my skin. The cool water does nothing to quench the searing touch of his hands on my skin. Don’t ask me what’s happening to the people around us because all I know is that I would happily stay locked in this moment forever.
A few seconds pass, of us standing still in the water, his hands wrapped around my waist. His thumb skates across the string of my bikini as he leans in, the light stubble on his chin grazing my neck in a slow caress. Sending shivers up my spine, my mind instantly imagining how good that friction might feel between my thighs.
His lips graze the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Hold on, Rockstar.” Then he’s gone and my waist feels bare without his possessing touch.
A second later, my body feels heavier and out of my control as I’m propelled upwards. Squealing, I attempt to grab onto anything I can, but my fingers slip on his wet shoulders and land onto his head, gripping like a spider monkey.
A chuckle that vibrates my core has me instantly pausing. “You’re alright, Rockstar. I got you.” As if to prove his point, his calloused hands glide down my outer thighs.
As if he knows where my attention is laser focused on each point we touch, he flexes them, gripping me tighter and my thighs clench. Those hands, my God, strong and muscular, with veins that pulse up his forearms with each movement.
“Alright then, you know the drill. First one knocked over loses,” Marcus yells from the side of the pool. Keppler and his girlfriend stand poised in front of us. Shit, maybe this is more serious than I expected. A whistle blows from God knows where, and then they are on us in a flash.
Oh fuck, this chick is strong. Her hands grip mine, and she yanks me with what feels like the strength of ten men. I don’t know if it’s Keppler helping push her towards me or if she’s just as competitive as these boys seem to be.
Cheers and taunts come from the sidelines as they get closer to us. Her hands grab at my biceps and squeeze, but Rook holds us strong and side steps out of the way so they need to adjust and regroup.
Every time I think I might have a shot on her, she wiggles free of my grip and comes back stronger. Rook holds me firm and I squeeze my thighs tighter, giving me more strength with each push.
He lightly taps my right thigh. Is he signaling to me? Well, fuck it, I’m about three seconds away from splashing anyway. Maybe I can take her with me. I pull her to the right as Rook side steps to the left, our movements synchronized. With a quick tug, she screams and splashes into the water, soaking us.
“Woo!” I throw my hands in the air in celebration, but it’s quickly followed by a squeal as I’m suddenly dropping back into the water. I close my eyes, waiting for an impact with the water that doesn’t come. Only the feeling of him disappearing from between my legs, the water now cold in the wake of his absence.
I turn to congratulate my partner, but he isn’t there. Instead, he’s at the nearest ledge, using just his biceps to push himself out of the water. The water cascades down his body into small pools on the floor as he stalks off toward the pool house, disappearing inside before the door slams behind him.
My hands fall to my sides as embarrassment flushes my cheeks. I look around, hoping no one notices. Thankfully, most of the team have already moved onto the next team and it’s just Sloane, staring between me and the pool house, concern wrinkling her brows.
“Damn, Tilly, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Keppler says, swimming up next to me. I flick on my work smile and push myself backwards in the water towards the shallow end and my escape.
“Well, I thought you would be much better at defense,” I joke with a shrug, trying to hide the fact I’m feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed that the new star defenseman just dumped me and ran.
A chorus of oohs break out from the guys who overheard my comment and Keppler dramatically throws himself backwards into the water, saying in his best Shakesperean accent, “You wound me, Othelia,” followed by a loud splash and another chorus of laughs and chirps at Keppler’s expense.
I use his distraction as a lifeline to get out of the pool. Sloane is already waiting by the steps with an open towel, ready for me to step in. The towel wraps around me like a shield.
“Til…”
The tears reach their breaking point, streaming down my face in a steady flow. Using the edge of the towel, I wipe them away. Needing to get away from the crowd, I spy an enclosed outdoor shower attached to the side of the pool house that is graciously empty.
“I need to leave.” I don’t need to beg her. Sloane understands me at a level no one else does. She sees everything I can’t say out loud.
“Consider it done.” She hands me my pile of clothes and I walk as quickly as I can without drawing more attention to the shower.
She lets me get safely inside before I hear her announce loudly, “James, your baby is giving me so much reflux, she is literally burning my insides alive. We need to go.”
I inhale deeply, not bothering to strip off my bathers. I throw my clothes back on and use this time to calm myself before making my way out.
As I exhale, I slip into work mode and practice my fake smile behind the closed door, giving myself three more seconds of self-doubt before I step out. I casually look around the group, hoping to catch a glimpse of him and read his thoughts. Maybe I overreacted to his exit, but there’s still no sign of him anywhere.
Saying my goodbyes to the guys doesn’t take long as I hug their girlfriends, eager to reach Rian’s car. The car unlocks right before my fingers grip the handle, and I slip into the back seat, shutting myself in behind the security of the tinted windows.
Rian opens the front door wide for Sloane but she steps back, opening the rear door again and sliding in next to me. Rian looks between the two of us, eyes narrowing, but he says nothing as he closes the doors and jogs around to the driver’s side, starting up the car.
Sloane doesn’t say a word to me during the drive home, just slips her hand in mine, as I stare out the windows, not bothering to hide the tears that now won’t stop falling.
“Jesus… fucking… Christ!”
I’m woken by the sounds of cursing and heavy breathing from the hallway. Please tell me they are not banging in the hallway.
“I know you guys are fucking crazy about each other, but seriously… the hallway.” I groan, attempting to muffle the noises with a pillow. Normally, I love how affectionate they are towards each other, but after today’s embarrassment, if they could keep it in their room, I would be incredibly appreciative.
My bedroom door flies open, light pouring in from the corridor. Rian grips the doorway, fully dressed, thank God, and panting. “We aren’t screwing in the hallway.” Rumpled from sleep or running his hands through it a million times, I sit up, instantly wide awake.
“I’m in freaking labor,” a whine comes from the hallway, “and he can keep his dick to himself for the foreseeable future. Tilly… ”
“Of course you’re in labor and want my sister.” Rian rolls his eyes, but there’s a mistiness to them.
I lunge out of bed, the smell of chlorine still clinging to me. When we got home, I threw my wet clothes in a pile, pulled on a sleep tee and climbed on top of the covers where I cried myself to sleep.
Rook’s dismissal has hit me harder than I expected and I keep drifting back to the memory of Clay cheating and all the times he made me feel ugly over the years.
I pat Rian on the chest as I pass him. “It’s time, Papa.” I grin, leaving him looking shell-shocked in the doorway. Sloane leans against the banister, rocking back and forth, taking some deep breaths.
“Baby,” she says, eyes squeezed shut. Catching her breath, she continues, “I’m gonna need you to go and put the bags in the car.”
“Oh shit, right.” Snapping back into action, he twists on-the-spot back and forth, not sure which direction to turn in before sprinting to the nursery to hunt for the baby bags. A few seconds later, he’s running past us, taking the stairs two at a time before vaulting down the final three, slipping out at the bottom.
“Can you be careful?” I yell down to him, holding onto the banister for purchase. “The last thing we need is you in urgent care tonight.” Sloane grips my wrist and stares up at me, eyes wide.
“Oh, my God, Tilly, I am freaking the fuck out. How am I going to have a baby? I thought we were ready, but when the first contraction hit, I realized we are so not prepared for this. I need at least three more months to finish with the nursery, and the team is looking good for the cup. How can we have a baby now?” Her eyes plead with me for all the answers.
“Do you want me to get Rian?” I look over the railing for a sign of him coming back in from the garage.
“God no, I love the guy and he is amazing under pressure on the ice but… holy hell… this freaking hurts… He is freaking out enough on his own. I need you.”
My chest tightens and I blow out the breath I was holding. “Right… OK.” Inhale, exhale. I look back and forth like the answer will be written on a wall somewhere . “Ah, do we need to time the contractions or something? I think I saw that on TV once.”
“Maybe we could work on getting me down these stairs?” She waddles towards the top step.
“I can carry you?” Rian yells from the bottom of the stairs.
“Thanks, muscles, but I think we have got it.” At the dismissal, he skids off into the kitchen to grab God knows what. Sloane and I begin taking the stairs one at a time, pausing whenever a contraction hits. She grips my hands, panting and groaning, releasing to continue as it passes.
After finally reaching the bottom, we make for the lounge. I pull across the balance ball she’s been bouncing on for weeks, holding it steady while she lowers herself. She centers herself on the ball, running her hands over her belly as she sways.
“I need a distraction,” she announces after a few minutes of silence, Rian still running around like a lost puppy in the background.
“What do you need?”
“Sing to me… Beatles, Stones. Something I can concentrate on besides the feeling of my body ripping in half.” Of course, this is the one time that the professional musician goes blank. All the music has left my body and I can’t remember a single song that has ever existed.
“ Tilly… ” she whines, pausing her swaying to grip my hands through another contraction. As her hands tighten around mine, sweat beading on her forehead, the song comes to me.
“There were bells on a hill, but I never heard them ringing. No, I never heard them at all. ’ til there was you…” The opening lyrics of her favorite Beatles song echo in the room as I rub circles on her back.
Sloane had chosen this as the song she walked down the aisle to when they got married. It fit them perfectly then, and as we sit together waiting for Layla to arrive, it feels like it fits perfectly here too.
Rian pauses in the doorway, listening to me singing their song, his eyes never straying from his wife as she sways, mouthing the lyrics in between breaths. He walks towards her and drops to his knees. Rian grabs her face with both hands and kisses her with everything he has. Waves of love radiate from the two of them, permeating every corner of the room. Tears fill my eyes as I sing, fading into the background of their love story.
I’ve never felt so much happiness. These are two of the greatest people in the world and they deserve every inch of happiness the world could offer them.
“There was love all around, but I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all, ’ til there was you.” The last lines drift out, surrounding us as Rian and Sloane sway together as one.
As tears well up in his eyes, Rian tenderly tilts Sloane’s chin upwards, bringing their lips inches apart, their shared smiles reflecting the depth of their affection for one another.
“Let’s go meet our daughter.”