Chapter 13
Sven
thirteen
. . .
The guys stare at me when I enter the team room for breakfast. I ignored them last night, especially after Vanessa exited the plane ahead of me.
Taking my now customary seat at MacGregor’s table, he looks up at me with curiosity scrawled on his face.
“What?” I grunt.
He smiles and shakes his head. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
I shrug, pulling out my phone for my daily news site perusal.
Even with my back to the door, I’m acutely aware of the exact moment she walks into the room. Her floral perfume precedes her in the best possible way. My heart starts to pound, my blood rushes, and I have to cough to clear my throat because swallowing is impossible.
She fills a plate and approaches my table.
“Good morning,” she says brightly.
“Good morning, Vanessa,” MacGregor says, hiding a smile. “You’re traveling now?”
She nods. “Jacky can’t travel for a bit, so I’m filling in on the road. You mind if I sit here?”
Her eyes aren’t on MacGregor, though. They’re on me.
Nodding, my eyes flick down to the empty three seats between me and the team captain.
She sits directly next to me.
“Good morning,” I say quietly, flipping my phone down on the table.
Vanessa leans toward me, then pauses. I squeeze her shoulder, unsure how to convey how glad I am that she’s here.
“Was that Rupert?” She nods to my phone.
“Yes. When we’re away, I check on her every morning.”
Taking my phone, I unlock the screen and show her the video feed. My bird is free to fly about the living room. She’s gliding through the air, seemingly playing the limbo with a vine that stretches across the room.
“Oh, she’s so cute.” Vanessa leans closer, looking at the screen. “Does she know you check in on her?”
“I think so.” When I sit alone and have my headphones in, I can turn on the sound and talk back to her, but I know it scares Brigitte when I do, so I try to time it for when she is out of the house. She’s cleaning the house today; that’s what she always does on the first day I’m gone.
Vanessa takes a sip of her coffee, sighing happily.
“How’d you sleep?” I ask.
“Good. You?”
I would have slept better with her beside me.
I don’t say that, though.
“Not bad. I’m used to the late night, though.”
She hums softly. “I’ll get used to it. It’s just a new routine.”
After breakfast, we have a team meeting. Vanessa disappears with the other support staff—she doesn’t need to hear about Pittsburgh’s intricate defensive plays—but comes down to the lobby as we’re about to head to the arena.
We get some stares when she sits beside me on the bus. Nobody says anything, though.
Do I want them to? I don’t want to hide it. I just don’t think we need to announce it.
The locker room is loud, and it gets conspicuously quiet when I walk into the room.
“What the fuck is going on, Larsson?” Pope demands. He’s a defenseman with the personality of a prickly bear, 6’7”, and as big as a brick shit-house.
“What are you talking about?” I keep my tone neutral as I reach for my gear.
“Morgan travels with us for the first time all season, and when she does, she sits next to you?” he demands.
I shrug. “She likes me.”
Lewis scoffs. “Is that all it is?”
Even though we have clearance from the team, even though it’s all above board, it feels strange to confirm our fake relationship without her here.
“She doesn’t hook up with players,” Sinclair says. “Like, distinctly off-limits, get booted from the team if you touch her.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” I say neutrally.
Clark shakes his head. “You’re risking career suicide, dude.”
What I don’t tell him is that she would be worth the risk. Eleven out of ten times, she’s worth it.
As I go about my regular routine, my mind drifts to Vanessa. She’s working. I wonder what she’s doing. I don’t exactly understand her job, just that she likes it and without her, the team wouldn’t run nearly as smoothly.
She’s not on the bus back to the hotel after practice, but at dinner, she’s sitting at a table with the other staff members. I sit at the end of the table and keep to myself. I’d much rather sit beside her than next to Clark and Jenkins.
Some of the guys head to a bar after dinner. I don’t join them. I don’t know if she does. I’m not in the mood to drink or try to get laid—as if. I’m ready to relax and let myself rest.
My phone chimes with a message. Vanessa’s name is on the screen.
“I’m bored,” she texted. “What are you up to?”
“Watching a movie,” I reply.
“Can I join you?”
I send her my room number.
Springing out of bed, I wash my face and brush my teeth. A glob of toothpaste lands on my chest and I whip off my shirt, ready to find a new one.
Right then, there’s a knock on my door. I open to find Vanessa wearing casual sweats and a sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a bun.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
Without hesitating, I take her hand and pull her inside the room.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”
“I’m glad I could help, then.”
“You didn’t want to go to the bar?”
“Not my scene. I only go when I have to.”
Vanessa’s eyes trail over my bare chest and down to my loose joggers. “Am I overdressed?”
I shake my head. “I can find a shirt if you’d prefer.”
She sets her hand on my pec, curling it over my chest to my shoulder. “Why are you still single?”
“I’m not,” I tell her. “We’re dating. Remember?”
She smirks. “Yeah, well, until then. Why haven’t they snatched you up yet?”
“Most of the time I’m on my own. I like being alone. Generally, I prefer it.”
“Oh. I can leave.” She removes her hand from my skin, and I reach for her, pulling her hand back to my shoulder.
“I’d rather be with you than be by myself,” I correct.
Her soft smile makes me smile, too. Except I’m grinning like a loon. I can’t stop. My face won’t go back to normal.
There are two double beds in the room, so I’m surprised when she gets into my bed, the one with the tablet and the covers rolled down.
“Okay, I’m going to be completely transparent here,” Vanessa says, pulling the sheets up to her waist.
I wait.
“I really liked cuddling with you on the plane last night, and I want to do it again,” she announces.
My mouth gets dry. “Okay…”
“Also, it would help if you didn’t flinch every time I touch you.” She doesn’t sound upset; she’s hiding a smile, her eyes bright.
It would help if I didn’t get hard every time she touches me.
Slowly, I crawl into the bed beside her, and immediately Vanessa moves toward me. She arranges my arms until she’s enveloped in the circle of them, her back to my front, her head on my bicep.
“That’s better,” she announces.
“What did you want to watch?” I pick up the tablet.
“Whatever you’re watching.” She squirms closer. “I just want to be held by you.”
Selecting the first movie I can find— a superhero movie from two summers ago—I lie down on the bed and curl my arm around her belly, holding her close.
She’s soft and she smells good, and having her in my arms feels right. Like I was made for the sole purpose of holding her.
Again, I don’t see her all day. She’s not at breakfast, and she’s not on the bus to the training facility. I don’t know where she is. Did she get in trouble for visiting me last night? Nothing even happened!
It’s when we’re warming up and getting ready for the game that I finally see her again. She’s wearing a team sweatshirt and leggings with her favorite combat boots. Her blonde hair is pulled into a loose braid over one shoulder. She enters the team’s workout room with a pinched smile on her face.
“Hey,” she says, making eye contact.
“Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
I’m conspicuously aware of the guys’ attention on us as I get up from foam rolling and follow her out of the room.
“What’s going on?” I ask as she finds a quiet alcove.
“I just wanted to check in,” Vanessa says, biting her lip.
“Okay…”
“I haven’t seen you at all today.”
“It’s game day.”
“I know. It’s—” She blows out a breath. “I don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you with the rest of the team.”
“You’re not.”
“Jenkins on the plane… MacGregor at breakfast…”
“They can go fuck themselves,” I declare.
Her eyes go big.
“Everything is legal and approved. They don’t matter,” I tell her. “Are you getting flack for it?”
“Pope saw me leave your room last night,” she admits.
My stomach sinks. “Oh.”
“He was… well, he’s a dick on a good day,” she continues.
“Yeah. Tell me about it.” I shake my head. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to check on you. Make sure he wasn’t giving you shit.”
Not for this, not today.
“I’m used to ignoring him,” I deflect.
I want to pull her into my arms and hold her. I want to kiss her and never let her go.
But whatever happened last night added to the fact that we’re supposed to be fake dating – only for appearance’s sake – it leaves me wondering if what I feel for her is reciprocated. I think it is, especially after her behavior on the plane and last night in my room.
But I’ve been wrong before.
I can’t risk falling for her even more and losing her. I have to keep my distance emotionally. It’s been easy until now because there was a clear boundary in place.
The locker room door opens, and I hear footsteps.
“Okay. Well—I have to go,” Vanessa says. She pauses, then rises to her toes and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Have a good game, Sven.”
Maybe I’m not wrong now.