22. Othelia
Chapter twenty-two
Othelia
His hands trace my body, licking, sucking. Those stormy eyes look up at me as he smirks, curling his fingers into the waistband of my panties, ripping them down my thighs before spreading me wide on the bed. The sight of Rook between my thighs while he stares at me, waiting, has my pulse quickening.
“Are you going to be a good girl, Othelia?” My thighs try to clench, but he holds them open.
“Yes, yes, I promise.” I squirm under his assessing gaze, but a firm tattooed hand moves to my pelvis, pressing down, keeping me exactly where he wants me. Eyes never leaving mine as he edges closer to my center. One slow lick up my seam and I know I’m done for. His smirk grows, bringing a lightness to his eyes I haven’t seen before.
A finger joins his tongue, pushing inside me before he moves up my body to whisper into my ear. I croon at his nearness, grinding myself against him. His voice sounds gravelly with want and need.
“Do you know where Layla’s pink elephant is?”
Oh yes, just like—
“Wait, what?” My head turns to Rook, and he looks at me, a sexy grin that promises to flip my world upside down.
“Layla’s pink elephant. Do you know where it is?” he repeats.
I jolt up in bed and stare wide eyed at Rian standing in the doorway waiting for an answer.
“Are you okay? You look kinda flushed,” he asks.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, too many blankets.” He looks at me unconvinced. “I last saw it near the couch where she threw it last night, maybe start there”
“Cool, thanks. Oh, your room service showed up with your latte. It’s out here when you want it.”
“Sure, great!” I say, too high pitched to be normal, confused by the room service but desperate to get this conversation over with. He shuts the door with a chuckle, and I throw myself backwards, muffling my face with a pillow before I scream.
Dressed in ripped black skinny jeans and a cropped band tee, I head out to the lounge. Rian uses his own coffee to point at the large latte sitting on the coffee table. I eagerly wrap my hands around the mug and inhale the aroma.
“Ugh this is honestly the only thing keeping me running anymore.” I take a sip of the perfectly made coffee, groaning when it has just the right amount of sweetness.
“So… how was Wills last night?” He crosses his arm and lifts an eyebrow, staring accusingly at me.
“What… I… He was fine. I returned his coat and all is right in the world.” I hide my face with another sip of coffee.
“Just seemed like it took you an awfully long time to return a coat?”
Hot coffee snorts out my nose as I cough. I grab a wad of napkins from the room service tray. Fuck, he knows, and judging by the cocky smirk on his face, he knows he has me cornered.
“Ugh fine. Maybe something more than coat returning occurred.” I cover my face with my free hand as I feel my face flushing at the memory.
“Ha! I fucking knew it!” he yells, jumping up so fast it startles Layla. Her little hands fly up to her face before she drops her bottom lip in the most adorable pout and an enormous scream bursts out of her.
“That is your fault,” I say, pointing at Layla now mid-cry.
“Oh, sweet baby girl, did Daddy scare you? I’m sorry, baby. Daddy was just happy to be right about Aunt Tilly and Wills.” He picks her up and cuddles her to his chest, bouncing her as she relaxes into him.
“Can we not have this conversation with the two-month-old, please?” I roll my eyes and try to get back to my coffee.
“So… what is happening there.” He sits back down, Layla on his lap, eyes sparkling with a level of mischievousness I haven’t seen since we lost Sloane.
“Nothing is happening. It was one kiss.” His eyes narrow at me. “OK, fine, it was one super hot kiss that led to one of the best orgasms of my life, but we,” I gesture between the two of us, “are not talking about that.”
His eyebrows shoot up before using Layla to shield his face, lifting his shoulders to block his ears. “La la la la la, I don’t want to hear about my teammate giving my baby sister orgasms.”
“Well, you wanted to know more.” I chuckle as he mimes being sick. “I don’t know. My head is all over the place. Everything with Clay has me on edge and Sloane... God, my heart still feels so shattered, but last night with him…”
Rian leans back, looking defeated. “I know how you feel. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be the same. Guilt hits me whenever I laugh and even worse now back at work. This thing with Rook though, Sloane had this pegged since he arrived.”
I knew Sloane had been trying to work her magic on me when I flew into Chicago, but that was after Clay and I broke up. Rook arrived months before that.
“When did he arrive?”
“I don’t know, probably January. He was traded to us just before the playoffs, but we didn’t get far. His trade was made official over the summer break.”
I rub my nail across my eyebrow. Sloane always had a way of picking things and people. Maybe this was her way of picking Rook too.
“How long is he here for?”
“His contract is just for a season. I've heard rumors he is hoping Seattle picks him up.”
“Seattle? Why Seattle?”
Rian just shrugs and we both sip our coffees in silence.
The first night I met Sloane was for Rian’s birthday. He had been bugging us for months to go to karaoke and we had all reluctantly agreed for his birthday.
Sloane had walked in wearing the cutest rainbow mini skirt and matching platform sneakers. She linked arms with me and claimed me as her own. We spent the rest of the night drinking cheap tequila and singing our hearts out. From that point, we were inseparable. Even when I needed to travel, we would video call daily and she and Rian would travel to wherever I was whenever his schedule allowed.
“She was so sure he was a good guy. She wouldn’t go into detail about how she knew, but said he opened the door once for her.”
“Yeah, she met him at our summer camp. We had a bunch of local hockey kids come in for a session and Sloane came to sit in the stands and cheer for the kids.” Layla crashes out on his chest, so he adjusts himself to lay her on the couch next to him. “She mentioned him on the drive home, saying he was so good with the kids. She was right. He spent the most time with them out on the ice. Even after we all started packing up, he was helping a little girl master a toe drag. It was pretty damn cute.” Leaning forward, I place my cup on the coffee table and lean on my knees.
“Maybe I’m the issue.”
Rian’s brow furrows. “What, why?”
“Last night when he kissed me, it just felt like everything clicked into place. Like at that moment, I was exactly where I was supposed to be. The world ceased to exist, and it was just the two of us.” Rian looks at me expectantly “Then his phone rang and reality came crashing back in. I may have panicked and bolted when he went to silence it.” I look sheepishly at my brother.
His mouth drops open. “You did not!” He glares at me with surprise and accusation.
“I know!” I whine, covering my face with my hands. “It was not my finest moment. I just got so overwhelmed.”
“Yeah, I get that, but you need to fix this. I barely know the guy off the ice and you go getting orgasms from him and running away.”
“Fuck… you're right,” I groan. “I’ll talk to him on the plane.”
“No way. You’ll go talk to him now.” He steals my coffee, sculling it. “No more coffee until you sort out your shit.”
“Rian!” I whine, but he points to the door.
I shuffle side to side as I nervously wait, staring at the closed door. The golden 1217 mocking me. I try knocking again, glancing up and down the hallway as if he will magically appear around the corner drenched with sweat from the gym and definitely not sitting in his room, ignoring me.
When he doesn’t answer, I give up and make my way back upstairs to our suite.
Rian sticks his head out of his bedroom door when he hears the click of the lock. “So?”
I just shake my head at him as I walk back to my room to pack my things, silently preparing for the awkward flight home.
A few hours later, we enter the plane, spirits low after last night’s loss. I take a steadying breath as I move up the aisle, saying hi to the guys as I pass. I bite my lip, wondering if it’s too late to sit next to Rian, when I reach Mav.
He grins, animatedly talking about something I don’t catch. My heart sinks as I take in the vacant seat next to the window.
I shuffle past him, glancing around the plane, trying to spot him in another seat, but nothing. He isn’t here.
“Hey Mav, is Wills running late?” I ask.
“Coach said he had to bail late last night.” He shrugs.
I slip into Rook’s seat, hoping for some comfort but only finding the cold bite of the leather instead.
I don’t want to have this awkward conversation here surrounded by his team, but to have him bail so he doesn't have to see me is upsetting.
Maybe I am the bad guy.
The entire flight, I stare blankly out the window, the music pulsing from my headphones doing little to distract from the disappointment I feel.
It’s late by the time we pull up in the driveway. On the plane, Coach had called an emergency team meeting at the arena to discuss the substantial loss the boys suffered in Dallas. I tagged along to the arena because Rian and I had driven to the airport together on Friday.
Layla and I walk laps around the concession stands while we wait. The faint smell of hot dogs and stale beer lingers in the empty corridors. Now I am ready for a hot shower, to climb into my bed and forget about everything and everyone.
As we turn the last bend of the driveway, Rian’s headlights illuminate a male figure sitting on the porch steps. His head lifts at the sound of the car. Butterflies take flight in my stomach at the thought of seeing Rook, but they wither and die as bloodshot eyes lift to meet mine through the windshield.
His blond hair, normally styled to perfection, looks disheveled, like he’s spent hours running his hands through it.
As he stands, attempting to straighten his clothes, Rian slams the car into park, flying out of the car. I quickly check Layla’s still asleep before joining them on the drive. When I step out, Rian steps back in front of me, shielding me from Clay.
“You have five seconds to get the fuck off my property before I beat the shit out of you and then call the cops because you’re trespassing.” Realizing the anger radiating off him, Clay at least has the sense to take a step back.
He raises his hands in surrender. “Please, I just want to talk. If Tilly wants me to go, I’ll go.” Clay looks at me, eyes begging.
“It’s fine, Rian, I think this is overdue.” Rian glares back at me, anger still steaming, but his eyes double check that I’m okay with this. I give him a small nod.
He stalks back to the car, unhooking Layla’s seat, and walking toward the house. He stops before climbing the stairs.
“Don’t think I won’t be waiting right behind that door to beat your ass, if I sense you giving her any shit out here.” He glares at Clay one more time before climbing the stairs, unlocking the door and moving inside.
I walk toward the steps and take a seat, gesturing for Clay to join me. The second he sits, he grabs my hands.
“Tilly, I am so sorry, I made such a mistake. I got lost in a moment. These last few months have opened my eyes. It’s been hell. I’ve been so lost without you.”
I stare at him, dumbstruck. Does he truly believe sorry is enough?
“Clay, I—”
“Please… Let me take you to dinner. We can talk about this more. We owe our relationship, the past two years, more than a conversation on your brother’s doorstep. Please, Tilly, say you’ll join me for dinner.”
He’s right: we owe it more than a five-minute conversation. I just want him to understand how he has hurt me. Natalie was one thing, but thinking of the many occasions Clay has made me second guess myself or treated me horribly; she was just the final straw.
Rook comes to the front of my mind and guilt floods my system and I feel the need to reluctantly agree.
“OK Clay, let’s talk at dinner. Tomorrow, though. I’ve had an incredibly long day and I just want to shower and go to bed.”
“Yes, tomorrow is fine, whatever you need. I’ll organize something nice and pick you up at six.” He leans in for a kiss. I attempt to move away, but his hands hold me in place as his lips roughly press against mine.
The distraught Clay from five minutes ago is gone and the Clay I remember is back, taking determined strides down the driveway towards where he must’ve left his car.
I sigh as I stand on the stairs, wondering how a man I’m only just getting to know can make me feel like every nerve ending is on fire, while the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with makes me want to tuck tail and run.