2. Caia
2
CAIA
I’m back at the family house, and my dad is hunched over the dining room table replaying the game on his iPad, like every night. I glimpse as the camera flips past Ollie to pan to a shot of Alexie. I smirk. An hour ago, I saw those chiseled cheekbones of his flare just because I dared to call him attractive. Who would’ve guessed he’s so easily flustered?
I’m reaching to pick an apple from the fruit basket, perched in the middle of the table, when Dad remarks under his breath.
“Shame that we’re going to lose him. He’s not a bad defenseman.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Lose who?” You know it’s serious when someone pulls my attention away from thinking of the hot Winter Wolf.
“Alexie. Our immigration lawyer says that he faces a possible deportation.”
I nearly choke on air. “What the hell?!”
Of all obstacles I expected to come in between me and Alexie being together, I didn’t consider the government to be one of them.
I toss the apple back in the bowl. “Aren’t you guys supposed to have him covered as an employer?”
“Job visas are incredibly fragile, especially when a crime is involved,” my dad replies.
A crime? Okay, I don’t have much knowledge in the Alexie encyclopedia besides his A-Z amazing looks, but I absolutely can’t picture him being involved in a crime.
He would look cute in a mob, though. Especially if he took me hostage and tied me up…
“What the heck are you thinking about, panting like that?” my father asks.
I shake from the odd dream and slide my chair back. “Nothing… um, I need to go upstairs and feed my fish.”
My dad shouts out, “You don’t have a fish!”
I take the spiral stairs two-at-a-time to my room on the top floor of our mansion. My bed sits below a chandelier made of gold-strung crystals that look like tear-drop diamonds.
If Alexie is being threatened by immigration services, then he’ll need something stronger than a visa to keep him here.
Like a green card?
A lightbulb flashes in my mind.
My Dad, the GM of the team, used to be a professional hockey player himself. He blabbers all the time about wild nightlife stories and how he had a “heyday” — whatever that means —before he met my mom and then things changed. They’ve been married for thirty years now, and I swear they kiss more than when they probably started dating. It’s kinda weird sometimes because my friends used to say their parents don’t do that.
But I’ve always wanted to share that kind of future with someone else. In some ways they’ve inspired me to follow my heart against all odds. Like how my father dropped his diehard party habits to be the husband my mother needed. Love changed him.
Maybe I could be the person to save Lexie.
My insane “I can do anything” drive scares my parents sometimes. I inherited my fearlessness from them, but I guess a woman is supposed to just wait aside until the man she wants struts up to her? Not a chance.
For me, I’d rather take what I want, when I want it than wait for some man to come strolling into my life like he belongs here. I know who belongs and who doesn’t.
Fishing through my closet, I pluck out a fresh change of clothes— jeans that hug my curves, and a beige sweater that compliments my still sun-kissed summer skin— and rush out of the mansion, ignoring calls from my father about where I’m going.
To the Frostwolves’ apartment complex I head. I actually work here as a rental agent.
Probably a case of nepotism, but since I have a degree in hospitality and tourism, I’m qualified, or so my resume indicated to the owners of the Frostwolves.
I reach the lobby in just ten minutes. It’s not far from our house, and the team pays for the building, the players have to pay a small amount of rent. Not that they stay at the place much. Most of the players have houses in other cities, beach villas, and other properties in exotic locations for off-season.
Except for Alexie.
He stays at the apartment all year round.
I knock on his door. No one answers.
Alexie is inside. I saw his car in the parking lot.
I could use my master key… but I won’t.
I knock another time, then try the knob. It releases. The door was unlocked? Was he waiting for someone?
“Huh,” I murmur to myself. I peek through the door opening, and spotting no one in sight, call Alexie’s name.
“Alexie?” I call out, but not like yell out. I close the door slowly and quietly.
No response. It’s not dead silent like before, though. In the background, I hear the faint noise of the shower.
While he is washing himself up, I decide I might as well make myself at home. Again, my parents say my lack of fear could possibly end up with me being murdered someday, but I know Alexie.
Well, kinda…
I know him enough to know I’m not going to get murdered here.
I stroll to the marble covered kitchen where a kettle sits on top of the counter. Filling it up, I allow the water to boil as I pluck a tea bag from a nice selection of organic teas and place it in a cup. When the kettle begins to whistle, I pour the water inside, savoring the citrusy bergamot aroma.
It’s late October and the chill of a Colorado winter is starting to set in.
I pull out a stool at the kitchen island and take in the apartment interior.
I could live here. I don’t need fancy, just warm and sexy. Although, the lack of pictures on the wall is a bit unsettling. Our family home is decked with family pictures. One from every year of my life it seems.
This place feels cold. Like a Silicon Valley guy’s idea of “modern design.” I could change that. A few colorful pillows, a few pictures, a throw rug here and there.
But first, to win the guy.
The bathroom door creaks open. Alexie steps into the hallway…
Naked.
Holy hockey stick.
My thighs rub together. I sip my tea, feeling heat not just in my mouth. He is packing more than I thought.
When Alexie returns dressed and catches me on the stool, his jaw drops, and he flings his phone into the air, juggling it like a circus performer.
“Hey, Lexie!” I say, taking in a long drink of the man that I’m going to make mine.
Alexie
“Caia! What… What’re you doing here? Wait?! Did you see me walk to da bedroom from the?—”
“Why yes, I did. Thank you for answering many lingering questions. Very impressive.” She drinks up my body with her dark blue eyes. Somehow, I’m caught between liking this, and questioning how the hell I wound up naked in front of the Wolfman’s daughter.
No. No. I’m just furious. Who the hell just lets themselves into someone else’s home?
I point to the door. “You cannot be here. You must go. Now.”
Caia cocks her head to the side, giving a sympathetic pout. “Alexie, I know about your deportation and I’m here to offer you a way to stay with the Frostwolves. I promise, I’m just here to talk.”
I narrow my eyes at her. I wouldn’t mind hearing some options for my situation, but Caia is just a child. What would she know about deportation?
Sighing, I glimpse the steam rising from the cup next to her. Looks like she even brewed herself a cup of tea.
I round the counter to prepare my own cup and put some space between us. “Would you like more?” I ask with a slight growl.
She appears unfazed by my dour mood. “Yes, please.”
She slides her mug across the island and heads to the living room. I watch her from the corner of my eye as I brew the tea. She sinks into my small sectional, right in the middle so I will have to be close to her either way.
The little minx.
“Honey?” I ask.
Caia’s head perks up. “Yes, sweetheart?”
I groan, “I mean, do you want honey?”
“Oh, no thank you. I like to think I’m perfectly sweet the way I am.”
I bring the tea to the living room on a small tray that my grandmother sent me when I earned my first professional position. I’m pretty sure she sold something to afford it—like a kidney since she passed away a year later. I’ll cherish it forever, like the memories of her.
“Speak.” I don’t bother using a level tone. I’ve got a lot on my plate and this is just sucking up valuable time I could use to figure out how to stay.
“We should get married,” Caia says clearly. She doesn’t miss a beat— the words flow out of her puckered lips as if it’s the most normal suggestion ever.
My head flies back, and I burst into laughter. “Oh, Caia, you funny girl.”
But clearly by her dead serious expression, she’s not being funny.
“I’m serious. I’ve been looking into it and the non-U.S. citizen spouse may be eligible to apply for immigration benefits, such as a green card, through the family-based immigration process if they are married to a U.S. citizen. My family’s been here for three hundred years, that makes me a citizen.”
I shoot up to my feet. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. I have a real problem, Caia.”
“And I have a real solution.”
“Your father would never allow it.” I begin pacing the living room.
“He doesn’t need to know.”
I shake my head. “No, I… we can’t.”
“Yes, you and we can. I would do anything for the Frostwolves. They are my family, too.”
I stop in my tracks. She’s right. They are family.
“You’re sure this will work?”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure of anything, but it’s a shot and you are the best at taking those on the ice, maybe it’s time to take one outside of the rink.”
A mischievous glint returns to her eyes, and it’s clear how tempting her invitation is. She’s gorgeous, those curves, those wild curls, those eyes that remind me of the St. Petersburg skies right before sunset.
Her idea might not be that crazy.
Still, my conscience overtakes me. “No, I could never do that to your father. I respect him too much.”
“It’s not a big deal. Once you become a citizen. We’ll just get a quick divorce and go our own ways. No one needs to know.”
I cock an eyebrow. “And what do you get out of this?”
“We can’t win the Stanley Cup without you. I know this. You and the team really don’t have another option, Alexie.”
We have been well rated all preseason. We’re on track to at least be a contender for that silver trophy that every pro player dreams of, and I believe we can go all the way, but is this the way to do it?
My voice goes soft on me and I squeak out. “I don’t want to go back.”
Caia leans forward, hands clasped in her lap. Her cleavage dangles below me. Tempting and off-limits. For more reasons than I care to discuss with her.
“Then let’s do this.” She stands up and walks up to me. “This team means the world to my father and to me. Let me help you. Please. Please, Alexie.”
I try to put up a cold front, but her begging is doing something to me. It doesn’t just touch my heart, it’s making my crotch tingle. I haven’t felt much sensation there since a puck to the groin incident when I was eighteen.
I’ve always acted like I’m the ladies’ man, but in fact, I’m technically still a virgin. And at twenty-nine years old that’s not something I wish to have broadcast by the nubile young woman in front of me.
I’m not proud to be pushing thirty without ever having sex, but up until this point, I’ve maintained an act. I’m always there for my partners but leverage the superstition of “no sex before games” to ward off fucking them.
Thus far… it’s worked. But this woman she could test me. She probably knows that they figured out that superstition wasn’t true years ago. She seems so smart… and daring… for her age.
Caia is beautiful, there’s no denying this fact. Any man with a pair of eyes could see that, but I could never sleep with her. Not just because of the respect I have for her father, but because I won’t take the chance of my secret “manly” problems to get out. Disappointing her would just be another way to disappoint myself.
I drum my fingers on the wall, thinking of what I should do. All the while, Caia’s eyes bore through me like it’s totally normal to check out a naked guy you’ve barely ever spoken to.
There aren’t any solutions I can come up with for my situation. If this is the way, and she is okay with a divorce later…
I sigh, “Let’s talk more…”