Chapter 33
AVERY
After months on end of vacillating between feeling like shit and feeling worse than shit, I couldn’t get enough of this new reality.
There were still plenty of moments where I felt awful.
Plenty of times when the grief, the guilt, and the shame caught up with me and beat me down until I could barely move.
But my therapists were helping me see that those were never forever.
There was a light at the end of the tunnel, even if it still seemed far away, and the closer I got to it, the brighter everything seemed.
As painfully slow as the process was turning out to be, it was forward motion.
It was hope. It was more moments of almost feeling like myself again.
And it was also tumbling into bed with the sweetest, most amazing man I’d ever met.
He could make me forget about everything except for him, and when we were together—whether we were fooling around or just watching a game on the couch—I felt good.
That, more than anything, gave me hope for the future that was waiting for me at the end of this long, dark tunnel.
Today, Peyton had practiced with the team, then did some light two-on-two with me, Eminem, and Baddy.
Afterward, we’d come back to my place where he’d drilled me into the mattress twice.
That was followed by a long shower that involved a lot of making out, after which we’d returned to the rumpled bed, which was where we were now.
He had his head on my chest, his scruff brushing my skin as we just lay there, basking in this comfortable closeness.
I was still drowsy from two orgasms and a shower, but I wasn’t falling asleep—I was just completely chill and happy.
My body ached from both skating and sex, and that, too, felt good.
I absently carded my fingers through Peyton’s hair, which was still damp and spiky from the shower. “I think I like this post-practice two-on-two.”
“Yeah?” He lifted his head to meet my gaze. “Why’s that?”
I smirked. “Mostly because the three of you are tired and I have an advantage.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes, bumping me playfully with his knee. “Yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts. When you come back to practice, we’re going to bring you down a peg.”
“Ha. You think.”
“Uh-huh.” He lifted his chin to kiss me softly, then shifted so he was partway on top of me. “Behave, or I’ll tell them you’ve been talking shit.”
“Oh. Yeah. That’ll be a revelation.” I draped my arms around his neck. “They’ll just ask you what the fuck else is new.”
Peyton laughed, then came down for a longer kiss.
Not enough to get either of us spun up, just something gentle and languid.
It had been so long since I’d dated or even hooked up, I’d forgotten how much I loved kissing lazily like this.
And lucky me—I’d met a man who apparently loved it as much as I did.
After a little while, he broke the kiss and settled onto the pillow beside me. He was on his side, so I mirrored him, and that was when I noticed the slight furrow in his brow. An unspoken thought, if I had to guess.
I trailed my fingertips down his arm. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well…” He held my gaze as he rested his hand on my waist. “There’s something I want to ask you about, but… if you don’t want to talk about, I’ll understand.”
Okay, now I was definitely curious. I found his other hand between us and laced our fingers together. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”
He studied me, then swiped his tongue across his lips. “I’m curious about Leif.”
My stomach somersaulted, but I tried not to let it show. “What about him?”
Peyton half-shrugged. “Anything, really. I know about him as a hockey player. Everyone does. But I never knew him, you know? As a person?”
“Oh.” I chewed my lip.
“If you don’t want to talk about him—right now or ever—that’s fine. I’m just curious.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” I breathed a soft laugh. “Just… trying to figure out where to start.”
Peyton swallowed. “You guys met in major juniors, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He was a year ahead of me, and our billet families were across the street from each other. They traded off driving us to practices and stuff, so we spent a lot of time together right off the bat.” I exhaled.
“It was great, having someone there who knew the ropes. Like, I knew hockey, but major juniors, living away from home, a new city—it was a lot.”
“I remember. It was overwhelming.”
“Seriously. And we clicked pretty quickly anyway, on and off the ice.”
“Were you guys linemates back then?”
“Not at first.” I watched my thumb running along the back of his. “But five or six games into the season, his winger went down with the flu, so they bumped me up to the top line. The coaches liked the way we played together, so even after the winger came back, they kept me with Leif.”
Peyton grimaced. “How did his winger feel about that?”
I half-shrugged. “Honestly, we kind of had a 1A and 1B situation instead of a first and second line, so it wasn’t much of a demotion, you know?”
“Gotcha,” he said with a slow nod. “So your team had two hot centers, then. Lucky.”
I grinned. “We were, definitely. The second line center?” I whistled. “He was crazy good on faceoffs. Probably could’ve been a top ten overall draft pick if he hadn’t gotten hurt.”
“If he—” Peyton furrowed his brow. “Wait, was that Bryan O’Connor?”
“Yep. Shame what happened to him.” I shuddered. “I will never forget that sound as long as I live.”
Peyton shivered too. “I’ve heard a bone break one time. That was more than enough, thank you very much.”
“I’m pretty sure I heard it when I broke my jaw, but I was in too much pain to notice.”
He made a face and squirmed. “Ugh. No. No, thank you. Fuuuck that noise.”
“My thoughts exactly, believe me.” I shifted a little on the mattress. “Anyway, having him and Leif centering the top lines—we were gold, you know? So Gardener didn’t mind getting bumped down. Honestly I think he clicked better with O’Connor anyway.”
“Sometimes that happens.”
“Right? So yeah, Leif and I were linemates for the rest of the season, and we were pretty much inseparable on road trips and stuff.” I chuckled. “Some of the guys started wondering if we were dating. I’d been out since U14, so they just figured any guy I was close to must’ve been my boyfriend.”
“That didn’t bother Leif?”
“Oh, God, no.” I laughed and shook my head. “He leaned into it, actually.”
“Did he?”
“Yep. A couple of the guys were razzing him about it at practice one day. It wasn’t mean-spirited—they were cool with me being out, they were just being guys, you know? So when we go to the bench between drills, he just comes over and parks his ass in my lap and says, ‘Baby, they’re being jerks!’”
Peyton barked a laugh. “Did he really?”
I nodded, laughing myself. “He did, and we played it up like crazy for the rest of practice, and we just sort of did the whole ‘oh, look at us dorky boyfriends’ thing for half the season.”
“Half? What stopped you?”
“He started dating Rachel.”
“Ah. Damn those women, getting in between two guys in love.”
“Right? What the fuck?” I scoffed. “So inconsiderate.” I paused.
“The guys chirped us for that, too. They would threaten to tell Rachel that she was Leif’s side piece.
And then we’re at a party with a bunch of teammates, and she’s there.
One of the guys comes right out and says, ‘I can’t believe you broke up Early and Calds.
’ She doesn’t even miss a beat, either. Looks him dead in the eye, puts her arm around my waist, and says, ‘What makes you think I broke them up?’”
“Oh my God,” Peyton laughed. “There was no trolling any of you, was there?”
“It took work, let me tell you.” I sighed. “My second year of major juniors was kind of boring, to be honest. A lot of hockey and traveling, but without Leif there…” I made a face.
“I can imagine. I was tight with our starting goalie during my first season. Not having him there the second year was tough.”
I cocked a brow. “Tight with him, eh? So you were—”
“He’s married with like five kids.” Peyton rolled his eyes. “And no, he’s not bi. We were just really good friends, and we roomed together on road trips.”
“Ah.” I flashed a toothy grin. “So you were roommates.”
That got me an exasperated groan, and I laughed.
“You’re a dick,” he muttered.
“Yeah. Kinda.” I laughed softly. “Anyway, yeah, it was a little quiet after Leif moved on.”
“And you got drafted to the same team. That’s some incredible luck.”
“Oh. I don’t know how much luck was actually involved.”
“What do you mean?”
“Basically that I found out after the fact that he’d practically been running a political campaign for the team to draft me.”
Peyton’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, really?”
I nodded, still chuckling. “I mean, here he was, this eighteen-year-old rookie, bending the GM’s ear like, ‘dude, you’ve gotta draft this kid.’ I guess it got to the point the GM would just sort of groan whenever he saw him.”
“But he listened to him.”
“I think he listened to the scouts more than anything,” I said with a laugh. “But… yeah, he did tell us that Leif really put me on their radar.” I rolled my eyes. “Leif said that entitled him to half my salary for the first season.”
“I mean, that seems reasonable to me,” Peyton said, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Pfft. Whatever.”
He just chuckled.
“There was another funny incident when he got married.” I couldn’t help smiling at the memory. “I was his best man, and I kept threatening to make my speech really embarrassing and inappropriate.”
“Of course you did.”