44. Rook
Chapter forty-four
Rook
It’s been eight weeks since my father left Tilly—well, me—his calling card. My investigators have been busy searching the Chicago area for him, but he remains a ghost. Even Tilly’s head of security, with all of his military connections, has had no luck, but at least her protection has been upgraded to high alert, which helps me keep my cool whenever I need to be away from her.
My father has never followed me across the country before, usually leaving his bullshit to the state of Washington, but I guess I’ve never had anything worth losing before, so I shouldn’t be surprised at his timing.
By the time we had made it back to my apartment after the Thanksgiving show, we were already viral. The Rockstar and the reclusive NHL star were making headlines across the world. So many people filmed us talking, me holding her and her leaning in to kiss me in front of twenty thousand fans. Social media was apparently filled with fans shouting out messages of support, or so we were told. Tilly and I avoided looking at any of it, neither of us interested in what the public has to say about our relationship. I’d never even thought that those videos would provide my father with a new way to hurt me. I would die before I let what happened to my mom happen to Tilly.
I don’t know what I’m going to do in two weeks when she has to leave. Thirty-one days. I have to live thirty-one days with her on the other side of the world, the only upside being that she’ll be safe from him.
Despite our hectic schedules, life with Tilly has been better than I ever imagined. Since finding the flowers on Rian’s kitchen bench, I’ve tried not to spend a night away from her. We alternate between my apartment and Rian’s house, except on days we’re away. Then we spend our nights christening every surface we can find in our hotel room. I’ve never felt this happy, except for my father being a constant concern.
If the team didn’t have the possibility of landing in the playoffs, I would go with her. Fuck my contract, fuck my father. I wouldn’t let her out of my sight. But I can’t leave my mom here alone, either.
The snow crunches under my boots as I step out of my truck; I held off purchasing a new truck until it wasn’t safe for me to be riding anymore. Something about the feel of the air surrounding me while I ride reminds me of the feeling I get as I fly down the ice and I was reluctant to pass that up.
Although Tilly was quite persuasive, arguing the benefit of truck versus bike, saying I could fuck her on the backseat of a truck, unlike my bike. I proved her wrong and fucked her on both.
Seeing her skirt pulled up as she took my cock draped across my bike was an otherworldly experience, but that seems to be a regular occurrence with Tilly.
Walking up to the concrete building, you would never guess from the plainness of the outside that inside are rooms filled with half a million dollars’ worth of recording equipment and in one of those rooms, the world’s most beautiful rockstar.
Pressing the buzzer, I wait for the intercom to buzz me in like all the other times I’ve visited in the last month. Her label has agreed to the band taking some time off after their March tour but requires three new singles before their holiday can begin, so they have something to release in stages over the time the band requested off.
So now my rockstar spends any free time Rian doesn’t need her, locked away here writing, recording and video calling with the band, trying to get these songs finished in time for Charlie’s due date at the end of April.
Tilly wants Lennon to relax and not stress about a looming deadline. I think she’s also trying to clear her schedule so she can be free if we make it into the playoffs.
So far, we aren’t looking bad; not as good as we had hoped, but it might still be enough to land us a Wild Card entry if we keep on the way we were going.
I nod to the security guard standing at attention next to the studio door, handing him a Wendy’s bag as I pass, which he gratefully accepts.
Entering the studio, I lean against the back wall, watching my girl through the glass window; much like I had the first time I laid eyes on her. Still unable to look away as she belts out fresh lyrics in the soundproof booth.
The heaters are on full blast, so she’s stripped down to a black tank and sweats, with her hair flowing down her back in long waves that shine under the studio lights.
Eyes closed, hands holding her headphones in place, she leans into the microphone. The curve of her exposed cleavage draws my attention as she inhales to push through the next words. Fuck, staring at her sing is fast becoming my favorite hobby.
I adjust my stance, trying to hide my growing erection from the sound guy sitting in front of me before deciding it’s best to sit on the couch.
I place the food I grabbed Tilly on the small coffee table in front of me and wait for her to finish. My girl has a habit of getting so wrapped up in her music, she doesn’t realize hours have passed and she hasn’t eaten a thing. So I’ve taken it upon myself to become her personal delivery driver, providing at least one meal a day for her whenever I can get away from training.
“I think that’s it, Till. Do you wanna send it to the guys and see what they think?” Max—with his charming good looks, who I might’ve had a problem with had I not met his fiancée a few weeks prior when Tilly hired the studio space—asks while pressing the intercom button for the studio.
“Yeah, sounds good.” She looks over at him, catching me sitting in the corner. Her smile grows. “Seems like it must be dinner time, Max. Do you wanna call it a night? I’m sure Patrick will probably want to kill me by now for keeping you so long.”
Hanging her headphones up on the stand, she exits the booth, joining us in the production room. “I can lock up on my way out.”
“Are you sure? I’m sure he would love me surprising him with a late dinner.”
“Of course, go.” She waves her hand. “I’ve got a few things I want to try on the piano before I go.” He kisses her on the cheek, grabbing his coat off the rack near the door.
“OK, same time tomorrow?”
“We fly out to LA for the guys’ game tomorrow and we won’t be back until late Sunday night. I’ll text you about booking some time next week. I’d love to get in another day or two before we head to Europe.”
“No worries, let me know. I’ll be free all next week so whenever you want me will work.” He shoots me a quick wave which I return. “Have a good night, guys.”
“Hey, you.” Tilly saunters over to me and I lean back, inviting her to sit on my lap. She nuzzles close, giving me a kiss as she wraps her arms around my neck. I stop her as she tries to sit back, my hand splaying across the thin material on her back. Soaking in her warmth, not quite ready to let her go.
“I didn’t think I’d see you till I got home.” I love the way she now calls my apartment home. It certainly didn’t feel like one until she started staying over.
Boxes filled with my stuff still litter the apartment. Since I had no intention of staying longer than my contracted year, I didn’t see the point in unpacking, just to pack it all up again.
But now Tilly fills my space. I unpacked the boxes and ordered new furniture to make my house more enjoyable for her. A new couch and dining room table were essential. Especially now I have someone to eat with, and eat out on one. I need her to feel comfortable and the extra surfaces don’t hurt.
Now she has more stuff at my place than Rian’s, but I’ve also been keeping extra clothes at Rian’s because Tilly’s concerned that neither of them are prepared for her to leave.
I never thought I’d be happy to come home and see fluffy socks peaking over the edge of my couch and scented candles burning all over the place, but I fucking am. On nights where recording runs late, the apartment feels so empty. So I just avoid going home, choosing to come and wait for her here instead.
“I figured you had probably forgotten to eat, so I got you a rice bowl from that Japanese place down the road.” She squeals as she climbs off my lap in search of the food, ripping out the disposable chopsticks, handing a pair to me before digging through the bag.
“How was training?” she asks around a mouthful of Teriyaki beef, her moans at the taste nearly killing me.
“Yeah, it was alright. Coach was really drilling us. He was pissed at Maverick for letting in so many goals last week, but also pissed at us for not providing better coverage.”
It was partially my fault. I was distracted. That was the day we got the new truck and Tilly spent the afternoon showing me how good of a purchase it was, on her knees with my cock in her mouth. It was the best blow job I have ever received, and my mind was still reeling from it hours later, making me sloppy on the ice and allowing my goalie to be lit up, which was unacceptable.
I need to learn to switch off my feelings about her when I’m on the ice, or I’m gonna end up on waivers.
“I’m so glad to finally see you.” I pull her head closer and plant a kiss on her forehead. She places her food back on the coffee table before curling back into me, sighing.
“How are we supposed to do this?” Her words make my heart feel like it’s packed up and left my body. “How can I go away for four weeks when we’re just beginning?”
“I don’t know.” I pull her tighter to me. “It’s gonna fucking suck, but it’s something you need to do. Something that if it wasn’t for me, you would want to do. I saw you blow the roof off that benefit concert. You can’t tell me that stage isn’t where you belong.”
She sighs again, her eyes locked onto mine as she tightly grasps onto me, her voice filled with vulnerability. “If me being on tour becomes too difficult, if you want to leave this behind…” It feels like a slap to the face as I jolt, and she sits up beside me.
“Hey, I told you I was in this. You chose me and I chose you right back. It’s gonna suck not being able to hold you for four weeks, but there is no way I’ll be here looking for a replacement. There is no one else, Othelia. You are it for me.”
“I just don’t want you to feel abandoned or like I don’t have time for you.” She screws up her face as she tries to work out the right words.
“Do you think I don’t have time for you?”
“What? No! Of course not, your schedule is hectic.”
“Just because we won’t be in the same country, doesn’t mean I won’t still text you. Constantly. We’ll call when we don’t have games or shows. I also plan on fucking the shit out of you over video call. I’ll even be waiting at the airport with one of those dumb little signs with your name on it when you get home.”
A sob breaks from her, and I pull her back into my chest. “Baby, don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you leave and right fucking here waiting when you get back. Fuck, I’ll miss you.”
We hold each other tightly, savoring this moment together, dreading the impending farewell that awaits us in a little over a week.
Fuck, I could do this forever.
It’s not the first time I’ve thought that. It usually happens when she does something random. Like leaving me a coffee cup next to the machine so I don’t have to get one out of the cupboard or when I come home to her dancing while she cooks in the kitchen.
Fuck.
Home.
Being with her makes me feel at home, something I had resigned myself to living without. I had a place that I ate, slept and left my clothes in, but it has never been a home. Not until this tattooed beauty came crashing in and ripped through my walls.
I know she’s got trust issues, and it’s gonna be tough for her while she’s on tour, but I’m going to show her that now I’ve got her in my arms, I never plan on letting her go, regardless of distance.
“Now, you told Max you had something you wanted to do on the piano.” She nods into my chest but doesn’t move. “Can you show me?”
Sitting up, she grabs a tissue to wipe her tear-stained face before a small smile plays on her lips. “OK.” Standing, she holds her hand out for mine and leads us towards the booth that holds a glossy black grand piano.
Taking a seat on the stool, she shuffles over, making room for me. I slide in next to her, eager to hear more of what she’s been working on.
Seeming nervous, I try to lighten the mood after our heavy conversation. “Did you know I won my school’s talent competition?”
She brightens. “You did? What did you do? Show off all your super awesome stick handling? I bet the girls went crazy.”
I rub my jaw as I chuckle. “Well, the way I handle my stick is impressive.” I wiggle my eyebrows, eliciting my favorite laugh from her, the one where I know I’ve really made her happy. “But no. I played piano.”
She gasps. “You never mentioned you play.”
“Well, hockey took up too much time, so it went on the back burner. Wanna see the song I played?”
“Yes!” She claps, adjusting on the seat to face me. I make a dramatic show at stretching my fingers and feeling the keys out before I begin.
“Now, I might be a little rusty. It has been a while.”
“You’ll be amazing.” The way her eyes sparkle and her unwavering belief makes me feel like I could achieve anything. I almost feel bad as I play the most horrible rendition of Chopsticks anyone has ever heard.
“You ass,” she says, pushing my arm while she bursts out laughing. “I actually thought you were telling the truth.”
“What?” I say, rumbling with a laugh. “I’ll have you know, I did win the talent contest. I just left out the part where I was in grade two.”
“Oh, my God, slightly less grumpy, tiny Rook playing the piano, be still my heart.” She swoons against me and I lean into her, smiling.
“OK, Rockstar, show me what you’ve got and then I’m taking you home to fuck the shit out of you after that slightly less grumpy comment.”
With a smile, she leans in and playfully kisses me, her mischievous eyes sparkling. “Promise?”
“That’s enough or we won’t make it home.”
She adjusts herself on the seat, taking a steadying breath. When she begins, I’m lost.
Lost in the sound of her voice, the way her delicate fingers expertly move along the keys and then lost in her lyrics.
I just stare at her as the words fall from her mouth and wrap around my heart. She serenades me, singing about finally feeling good enough, worthy of love and that I am the one that makes her feel all of those things.
The next verse talks about feeling lost and like no one would ever understand her again, but then I came along and gave her back pieces of herself she didn’t realize she was missing.
She sings with such reverence about never knowing what real love felt like before, being confused about what she truly deserves, but now the fog of betrayal has lifted and now all she can see is me.
When the haunting melody ends, I gasp, realizing I’ve just been holding my breath for the last four minutes, swept away with everything she offers me.
She stops, fingers still splayed along the keys, eyes closed, she too, completely lost in the music. Relaxing, she drops her hands to her lap and looks over at me. I’m speechless.
As I stand abruptly, the stool skids backwards, creating a loud scraping sound against the floor. Leaning over, I push the stand holding the lid of the piano open, making it slam shut, the keys making their own tune with the vibrations.
Looking puzzled, she asks, “Rook?” Her assumption that I’m angry couldn’t be more wrong.
“Up, now.” I reach out my hand and she takes it. Yanking her towards the piano, my hands grip her waist. “I need to be inside you, Rockstar. I can’t wait till we get home.”
She blushes and nods as I run my hands down her body, pulling down her sweats and underwear, then lifting her up and sitting her bare ass on the cool varnish.
I quickly take off her shoes, and she giggles at my eagerness, but then gasps when I pull out my hard cock and slide it inside her in one motion.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, her pussy clenching around me as she grinds herself forward. I stop, buried deep, leaning over to give her a fierce kiss. “I am so fucking in love with you.”
Her response is staggered as I rock back and forth: “Rook… I… love… you… too,” she moans out the last word as I roll my hips, pushing deep inside her.
“I know you do, Rockstar, you just sang to me so sweetly about all the ways you love me. Oh fuck, Tilly.” My hips jerk faster as she clenches me harder, her orgasm building. “Fuck, Rockstar, whatever you want, I’m yours. Please.” I press my head against her collarbone, kissing and ripping her tank down and nipping at her exposed nipples. “Please tell me you’re mine.”
“Oh, ah. Yours, Rook, all yours.” I practically blackout with the pressure of my orgasm, my heart and cock swelling with her words. Thankfully, I still have the sense to run my thumb in tight, fast circles over her clit to bring her there seconds after me.
“I love you,” she whispers, peppering my forehead with kisses before I move to give her access to my lips.
She strokes my face as I stare into her eyes, and one word gets stuck in my head.
Wife .