Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
Tedi
My phone alarm blares, and I reach to grab it from the nightstand, but the phone falls to the floor.
“Grr.” I sling my arm over the edge of the mattress and reach for it, but I can’t feel it.
“Cold.” Tweetie tugs the covers back over him. “Turn it off.”
“I’m trying.” I finally feel the tip of the phone, and I slowly bring it closer until I’m able to grab it. I pick it up and right myself on the bed, turning off the alarm.
Sliding up, I rest my back against the headboard and put the phone back down on my nightstand.
Tweetie rolls over, wrapping his arm around my waist and dropping his head in my lap. My hands mindlessly run through his hair, and he practically purrs like a cat under my touch.
Last night was like we took a time machine back to so many years ago. Before the injury, before the trade and our inevitable breakup. We ordered Chinese food, binged a television series, but stopped when the lingering touches became too much and we couldn’t control our libidos. He fulfilled his promise and fucked me against the wall, then I rode him right before we went to finally fall asleep.
I gaze down at him, grazing my knuckles along his strong shoulder blades. I run my finger over the spot where he got the tattoo removed, barely raised and noticeable now. He stiffens under my touch for a moment before I continue my lazy exploration. He tightens his grip on me, nuzzling his head further in my lap.
Being with him again feels so good. I’m not sure I realized how incomplete I felt all these years. As though I had a missing twin out there somewhere. But with the sunrise, my mind fills with doubts. Am I really ready for this? What happens with my job? Not much has changed, because in a few months when the season is over, I head back to New York. With Tweetie’s contract up, he could end up as far away as Los Angeles, playing alongside Cory, for all we know.
“I can feel you thinking. Stop,” Tweetie mumbles.
“That’s an impossible ask.”
He rolls over, keeping his head in my lap, staring up at me. “Do you regret it?”
I should’ve known. The man reads me better than my own father. “I don’t regret it.”
“But?” He runs his finger up and down along the back of my neck. It’s sensual and loving and makes what I’m about to say that much harder.
“There’s a lot to consider here.”
“Nothing we can’t handle.”
I raise my eyebrows. He knows it, and I know it. “What about after this season when I go to New York and you go wherever you get signed or stay here? Long distance isn’t really our thing.”
He huffs out a breath. Not in anger but annoyance. “I think it could be different.”
“How?”
The last person I ever want to be again is that crazed, insecure woman who convinced herself he was making a fool of her. The obsessed woman who thought she was one comment away from finding out he was a cheater. The hockey blogs are still alive and kicking and causing turmoil in good relationships.
“I’m not in the same headspace as when I was dealing with an injury and trying to find my place on a new team.” He doesn’t stop running his fingers through the strands of hair at the back of his head.
“Not now, but if Bud doesn’t sign you, then?—”
He sits up and rests his back along the headboard beside me, taking my hand. “Then I go to another team, and it’s a little longer or it’s an even shorter distance. Maybe New York wants me? There are a lot of what-ifs in those scenarios.”
“I think that’s what I don’t like.” I turn to face him. “Last night was great.”
“Uh-oh, I feel the ‘it’s not you, but me’ talk coming on.”
I stare down at our joined hands. “Not at all. I just need to ground myself. If this is really going to work, I think we need to pump the brakes a little. Ease into this slowly. We’ve always played hot and loose with our emotions and actions.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but he also doesn’t pull his hand from mine. “I meant everything I said. I’m not going into this as the same man I left our relationship as.”
“I know that. I do.” I crawl into his lap, straddling him, needing to be close to him. To know that I’m not saying no, I’m just saying slow. “You still trust me?”
“You’re still the person I trust the most.”
I put my hands on his cheeks and rest my forehead against his. “Then trust me that with time, we’ll be there again. You’re like a race car, pedal to the floor, tires screeching around the corners, and I just think this time around, we might need to take the Sunday drive approach. We’re going to reach the same destination, I’m sure of it, but it might take us longer than we’re used to.”
He swallows. “I’m gonna be honest. I’m not sure if I’m built for slow, but if I’m gonna try for anyone, it’s you.”
I smile, and his hands tighten on my hips. “Thank you.”
“I have to know, does this have anything to do with the tattoo thing? Because I can book an appointment right now. And this time I’ll get your full name right over my heart. Fuck it if Cory tells me I’m copying him.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the tattoo. You made up for that with what you said last night. It’s actually kind of romantic in a very twisted and weird way.”
“I lo?—”
I place my finger on his lips. “Please. Not yet.”
When I remove my finger and draw back, he looks into my eyes. “Me not saying the words doesn’t make it untrue.”
Both of our phones vibrate with a text, but we ignore them.
“All right, let’s go through the rules then,” he says.
I lean back on his lap and tilt my head. “We don’t need rules.”
He nods and holds his hands up. “I am not fucking this up this time, so you give me the rules you want to go by, and if we get to the point that I’m allowed to break them, you’ll let me know, okay?”
“God no, I’m not your teacher.”
“Tedi.” There’s no humor in his voice. He’s serious.
“No more sleeping together.” I cringe.
He stares at me blankly. And then he brings his hands back to my hips, picking me up and plopping me next to him. “Then you need to sit over there. And put on some underwear. Actually, go put on a snowsuit or something.” He waves his hand as though I should go do exactly that.
“You okay?”
He nods. “Continue.”
“No dinners yet. We can do coffee, walks, maybe a lunch.”
His mouth drops open. “We can’t eat dinner together?”
I shrug. “Okay, no romantic dates. Like, I’m not wearing a dress, we’re not making reservations, and you can’t get me flowers.”
He crosses his arms. “I don’t think you can mandate no flowers.”
“Fine. You can get me flowers. But I can’t promise I’m going to water them.”
“That’s just being a shitty human being. If I got you a dog, would you not feed the dog?”
“Don’t get me a dog, Tweetie,” I deadpan because I know this man.
“You’re really making this whole wooing process difficult. It’s supposed to be enjoyable and make you want to date me.”
Our phones vibrate again.
“We don’t have to put any rules into action, but I’m being serious. I want to take this slow.”
He blows out a breath and puts out his hand. “Fine, Tedi Douglas, I promise to abide by your rules while I try to court you into falling in love with me all over again.”
“Dramatic much?”
He wiggles his hand in the air. “Come on. The faster we agree on the terms, the faster I can work my way around your rules.”
I have no doubt he will.
I shake his hand, then he pulls me in a bit closer. “Looks like me and you are best buds again.”
I playfully push him, and we both laugh.
“Do we have a time limit here?” he asks, and I blow out a breath. “I’m kidding. But can we at least seal this agreement with a kiss?”
“Sure.” I lean forward and kiss him, but he places his hand on the back of my head, keeping me there. I wait for his tongue to slide into my mouth, but he keeps the kiss respectable.
Our phones vibrate again, and we pull apart.
“What the hell?” Tweetie says, both of us leaning over to grab our phones.
We’ve been added to a group message asking us to go to breakfast.
“Well, thank you, Jade.” Tweetie fiddles with his phone. “I just scored your number. Unless that’s against the rules. Can I text you, madam?”
“You may text me twice a day,” I say in my best version of an English accent.
“I negotiate for at least ten.”
I shake my head. “You can text me whenever you want.”
My phone vibrates in my hand, and his response in the group pops up with his name.
He peers over to see. “Uh-oh, someone’s a little liar. You didn’t delete me.”
I hold my phone close to my chest. “I needed it for work.”
“Bullshit.” He gets me on my back, tickling me. After I fall into a fit of giggles, he remains over me. “I’m going to win you back. You know that, right?”
I smile and put my hand on his cheek. “Maybe I’ll win you back.”
“Babe, you never lost me.”
Tears well in my eyes, but I try to push them back. Could we really get to where we need to be? I hope I’m not crazy for believing we can.
“Will you let me take you to breakfast with everyone?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Hey, you said we could do coffee. I’ll starve myself and just drink coffee if that makes you happy. Plus, we’ll be in a group. And you’ll get to see Rowan’s neurotic pancake routine. You don’t want to miss that, do you?”
“Fine, but no hand holding, and you have to sit across the table from me.”
He holds up his hands. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“Doubtful.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” He gets up and holds out his hand.
This is going to be interesting. I hope I can handle the slow pace. Time will tell.