53. Othelia
Chapter fifty-three
Othelia
Three Months Later
“Oh fuck, Tilly!” he groans as I suck him in deeply, and he explodes in my mouth as I greedily drink him down. He helps me stand, kissing me hard as water cascades over us.
Turning toward me, he lathers up my hair, peppering my shoulders and neck with kisses. This is becoming our new normal: showering together to start our day.
Rook’s never shy in sharing his affections with me whenever we are together. He always finds a reason to touch me, even out in public. Part of me thinks it’s his way for him to reassure himself I’m still here. Still safe.
Since there is no more threat to us anymore, with his father dead and Clay being arrested trying to board a private plane to Morocco two days after bolting from the scene, life has become blissfully normal.
The label agreed that as a whole we needed some time off. Getting kidnapped and held at gunpoint made them more cool with us taking the rest of the year off, especially since Lennon’s son, Max, was born a few weeks ago.
We all need time with our families and time to grow as people outside of the band we have thrown ourselves whole heartedly into for the last decade.
“Do you want to ride with me?” Rook asks as he washes the last of the soap from my body.
“To what? Spend the next three hours waiting for you to finish all your pregame rituals. Hard pass.” I giggle as he nuzzles into my neck.
“I’m sure we could find an empty room somewhere to create a new pregame ritual?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and I slap his chest as I laugh, stepping out of the shower.
“If you think I am going to fuck you in some dingy closet that smells like sweat and stinky socks while my brother and your entire team sit in the next room for a new ritual, you are sorely mistaken.” I grin at his boyish charm as he shakes the water from his hair, covering me with drops of cold water, and I squeal.
He grabs me around the waist, pulling me against his naked body. “Not even for Stanley?” He looks through his long lashes at me, batting them as he begs.
“Not even for Stanley,” I call over my shoulder as I dance out of his grasp, as he tries to smack me on the ass.
“I’m heading to Rian’s and driving to the game with Eleanor and Layla, but we might grab something to eat in the family room before the game.”
The boys have been killing it in the playoffs, winning the first two rounds and securing their spot in the Western Conference Finals.
Tonight was game five; the boys having a three-one lead over Vancouver. If they win tonight, they’re guaranteed a spot in the cup finals.
The mood around the arena has been tense over the last week. Training has been intense on and off the ice. Rook and Rian spent all week binge-watching Vancouver’s playoff run footage on the couch, searching for any weakness in the top team’s lines.
It’s paid off: the Hellhound’s are living up to their name, practically unstoppable. This week’s loss hit the team hard, though, and I knew both Rook and Rian worried it might rattle the team, causing the team to choke now it's down to the wire.
“I have something I want to show you.” Rook exits the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.
“You already showed me that, three times last night and twice this morning.” I arch an eyebrow at him but can’t keep in my chuckle.
“Smart ass,” he says, dropping his towel to whip me with it before disappearing into our closet.
I moved in with Rook the day we got home from Seattle. After two days of hospital checkups and police interviews, I couldn’t wait to jump on a plane and get back home.
My clothes are all over his closet floor, a complete mess compared to Rook’s neatness, but somehow we balance each other out.
He comes out wearing sweats, pulling his tee over his head as he walks over to me. “Seriously though, can I drop you at Rian’s? I have something to show you.”
I stroke my hand across his face. “Sure. Just let me get dressed.” I lean up on my toes to place a quick kiss against his lips as he holds me there a beat longer, fingers flexing on my hips.
Dressing simply in black cargo pants and a black long sleeve skintight tee which I’ve tucked in at the waist. I slide on my custom-made black and red Hellhound’s varsity playoff jacket, which Marcus’ wife organized for all the wives and girlfriends to wear to show our support.
Each jacket is adorned with custom bejeweled detailing, showcasing our man’s numbers on the back.
Rook looks up from his phone as he sits on the edge of the bed waiting for me to get ready, his eyes roaming over my body, lips kicking up as he takes in my attire. I give him a spin, pausing so he can see the sparkling ‘59’ on my back.
His arms are around me before I realize he’s moved. “Remind me to fuck you in this later.” The promise in his voice makes me squeeze my thighs together, already throbbing with need, even though he’s already made me come twice this morning. Taking my hand, he leads me out of the apartment and to his truck.
“Why are we driving to the beach?” I ask as we drive past Montrose and turn down a side street, heading away from the lake.
“We aren’t.” He holds my hand, kissing my knuckles as he maneuvers the truck to a stop in front of a gorgeous two-story house. A massive bay window with architecture similar to what you would find in a medieval castle welcomes us.
I look over at him and he seems nervous as his eyes flick between the house and me, gauging my reaction.
I look back in, taking in the beautiful gardens, filled with blossoming flowers and the grand stone steps leading towards the large oak front door.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?” I ask, and he nods once before looking out the window at his surprise.
I release his hand and jump out of the car, moving up the sidewalk to the detailed wrought-iron gate.
Rook is by my side, slipping his hand into mine as I push the gate open and I pause before stepping over the threshold. “We can go inside, right? I’m just now realizing that was a little presumptuous of me.”
He huffs out a breath as his lip kicks up. Pulling a key from his pocket, he holds it out for me, the little house keyring dangling in the breeze. I look up at him, my mouth agape. “Did you buy me a house?”
“No,” he scoffs. “I wouldn’t spend over a million on a property without bringing it up with you first. I found this house online last week and called the realtor, and asked if we could walk through it. She was more than happy to give me the keys.”
I release a small breath before we move towards the house.
“Built in the late 1800s, but apparently, the owners have done renovations to make it more modern on the inside.” He unlocks the door and pushes it open. He turns back to me, encircling my waist as he lifts me up and places me on the inside of the threshold.
I laugh and the sound echoes through the house. “What was that for?”
“Just in case.” He winks, taking my hand as he leads me from room to room. Each area has its own modern characteristics while remaining true to the original design of the house.
“It’s beautiful,” I sigh as we enter the living area, the bay window looking out over Buena Park.
“It's so close to Montrose, we could have tacos every night and walk along the water, but that isn’t even the best bit.” Just like a kid on Christmas, he’s jittery with excitement, anxiously awaiting his parents to wake up so he can dive into a pile of presents.
Taking my hand, he leads me back through the kitchen and to a set of stairs I didn’t even realize was behind the pantry. Clicking on a light as we descend into the basement, he moves to the side, allowing me to take in the space.
Blank walls greet me. The room spans the entire square footage of the upstairs floors but with no walls restricting movement.
Rook bounces on his feet behind me, and I can’t help but grin at his excitement. “I thought we could turn this into your studio.” He grins, then bites his lip as he watches my smile fall.
“My studio?” I look around the space, imagining it covered in soundproofing foam, a recording booth and producing studio. There’s plenty of space for all that and more. The whole band could easily fit here and I could work anytime without leaving the house.
With each passing moment, my love for the man behind me intensifies, causing my heart to race.
“What about Seattle?” I ask, facing him.
He shrugs. “What about it?”
“But your mom is there. Wasn’t that the plan? Are you heading back there as soon as your contract is up? You’re months away from fulfilling it.”
“Chicago has asked me to resign for another year.” My mouth drops, but he continues. “Seattle has shown no interest yet, and I guess Chicago has grown on me. Plus, if we ever move to Seattle, we’ll still need somewhere to live when we come home.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Rian has another eight years on his contract, so he and Layla won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. If Seattle happens, I figured you would want to come back here as often as you could.” His face softens as he strokes my cheek. “I can’t take you away from them.”
Leaving Rian and Layla behind would feel impossible. Losing Sloane has shaken us all to the core and I can’t imagine not being a regular part of Layla’s life as she grows.
“And in the meantime?” I ask.
He shrugs again, like it’s an easy decision. “In the meantime, I keep doing what I’ve always done. Flying back and forth, seeing Mom whenever we can.”
I stare at the space, my mind swimming with possibilities as I turn back to him. His smile grows along with mine.
“I guess we’re buying a house.” I shrug. His kiss is long and lingering as I bask in the love he shows me.
“Now, which room should we christen first?” he jokes as we reach the top of the stairs as he pushes me against the kitchen counter.
“Uh, I’m sorry, sir. You have a final to win,” I chastise, but his grin is wicked as he unbuttons my cargo pants, sliding them to my ankles, peeling my panties down with them.
“Just one taste.” He grabs my ass, lifting me up onto the counter. “You know… for Stanley.”
“Oh, well then, if it’s for Stanley.” My lips tip up as his smirk widens and I grip onto his hair, pulling him towards me.
Eleanor, Chrissy, and I bang on the glass as the final siren sounds. Screams erupt from the crowd as Chicago wins their fourth game, making them Stanley Cup Finalists.
The boys hug each other in the center as the team on the bench sprint out to join the celebrations. The arena reverberates with the deafening roar of fans, passionately cheering on their team.
“Oh, my God!” Chrissy screams next to me. “They freaking did it!”
Eleanor bounces a fussy Layla on her hip, Layla’s noise cancelling headphones secured tightly over her head as she plays with one of Ellie’s dark brown curls.
The boys raise their sticks in the air and do a lap of the rink, Rian and Rook both slowing when they reach us, pressing their fists against the glass.
Eleanor steps forward, pressing Layla’s tiny hand against where Rian has his fist pressed. The tears that shine in his eyes as he looks down at his baby girl nearly send me into tears.
Looking up, he blows a kiss to the ceiling, closing his eyes for a minute, silently talking to Sloane. Though she’s been gone for almost a year, it always feels like she’s nearby, guiding us.
Rook presses his hand against the glass, mouthing, See? Good luck. He winks before he skates off to rejoin the celebrations with Rian.
I look out at the friends who have become my family, the acceptance and love I have found here in Chicago, a place I never thought I would call home again.
Rook stills in the middle of the ice, looking over at me, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am.
If this is life, I can’t wait to see what the future brings.