Chapter 15 #2
Pulling my mouth away from his, I take a deep breath and try to keep my voice steady as I say, “As long as I’m on this earth, you will never question your worth again. You hear me? If anyone tries to make you doubt yourself, I will rip them apart with my bare hands.”
He presses his lips together firmly, but the muscles in his cheeks betray him. The widest grin breaks out on his face before he hides his face in my neck again.
“I’m falling in love with you, Lieutenant,” he murmurs against my pounding pulse. “And it kinda scares me a little.”
I kiss the side of his head, tightening my hold on him as he wedges himself deeper in that spot behind my ribs. “I’m falling for you too, El. So fucking hard.”
“When are you working again?” he asks me as we lie in bed the next morning. His head rests against my chest, his fingers drawing shapes against my skin. We haven’t moved except to turn the TV on so the room wasn’t silent for him.
“Not for another few days. Why? What are you thinking?”
He glances up at me. “Will you come to my game tomorrow?”
“Sure, if you want me to,” I say, brushing his hair away from his face.
“I do. You can sit in my seats. Although they’re next to Alex, and he’ll probably be there because he comes to most of the home games, so he’ll probably talk to you.”
“I’ve met Alex before. He’s a nice guy, but I’m happy to buy my own ticket. I don’t expect it for free.”
He shakes his head. “No. I want to see you in my seats again. It made me really happy last time you did that.”
I cup his jaw and angle his head up so I can kiss him. “Then I’ll be in your seats.”
Elliot grins and settles back on my chest, only this time, he raises my arm. He bends it slightly, then rests his chin in the crease of my elbow. He uses my forearm to squeeze his face into my bicep and giggles.
“What are you doing?” I ask around a chuckle.
“Putting myself in bicep jail.”
My lips quirk. “Bicep jail?”
“Yeah. I think this is going to be my stop-thinking zone. As soon as my brain gets busy, you’ve gotta put me in bicep jail. Squeeze the bad thoughts right out of my brain.” He demonstrates by squeezing his head with my arm again.
He stretches to grab his phone from the nightstand and opens the camera. He switches it to selfie mode, then holds it up. I laugh at the image of us on his screen. His cheeks are squished together, causing his lips to pout. He snaps the photo and giggles to himself as he sets it as his lock screen.
“Will you send me that?” I ask, realizing it’s the first picture we’ve taken together.
“Yup.”
Seconds later, my phone vibrates against the bedside unit. With a grin and a full heart, I save the photo as my lock screen too.
The next night, I make my way down to Elliot’s seats as promised.
There are only five minutes until warm-up, and there’s a tiny bundle of nerves simmering in my stomach.
This is only my third time watching Elliot play, but since we admitted our feelings for each other, it’s only amplified this need to protect him.
I’m no fool. I know players get hurt in this game, but the thought of Elliot getting hurt has fear rearing its ugly head inside me.
“Hey! It’s great to see you again,” Alex says with a smile. He stands so I can step past him to get to my seat. He’s alone this time, whereas the last couple of times, he’s been with another guy I now know is his friend.
I take a seat next to him, placing my beer in the cup holder.
“Yeah, you too. No Nate today?”
“No, he had some clients, much to his disappointment.”
“I didn’t realize he trains with Lucas,” I say, referring to one of my firefighters.
“Yeah, we didn’t either. It was a surprise to us, too, when Daniel told us about him, then when we found out he worked with you,” Alex chuckles. “It’s a small world, really. There’s always something connecting us together where we least expect it.”
I hum in agreement and take a sip of my beer.
The lights come up, and the crowd cheers as the players step onto the ice. Elliot’s first out, skating a loop around the net before going through his stick tap routine with the posts.
I can’t help but smile to myself at his blond hair peeking out from beneath the back of his mask. Knowing my fingers were buried in those curls only a few hours ago.
He scuffs up the ice, then crouches, going through a series of invisible practice saves before hitting the blade of his stick into his glove.
It must be his signal to let the team know he’s ready because Blaine is the first one to take a shot.
Elliot bats it away with ease, sending it flying toward the boards.
After thirty seconds or so, he stands back to his full height and makes his way over to the bench with Blaine at his side.
He lifts his mask and shakes his glove off, resting it on the ledge in front of the bench.
He picks up a water bottle and squirts some into his mouth, and I catch the moment he spots me.
His eyes light up, and he quickly puts the bottle down before throwing his arm in the air and waving excitedly.
Blaine’s head snaps up at his sudden movement, and his gaze must land on Alex because he winks at his husband.
“Hi!” Elliot shouts, and I have to read his lips with it being loud in here.
“Hey.” I smile, my heart swelling in my chest.
“I’ve never seen him look so happy,” Alex says beside me. “He can’t stop talking about you.”
I keep my eyes fixed on my guy as he talks to Blaine, chuckling to myself when he squirts water in his brother’s face.
“He makes me very happy too.”
Alex tells me about his bakery business with his brother as we watch the rest of warm-ups. Elliot waves again before disappearing down the tunnel, wearing a smile so wide it’d be visible from the rafters.
From the moment the puck drops, I can sense this isn’t going to be an easy game. Ottawa seems to want blood, and within the first thirty seconds, one of their defensemen drops the gloves and grabs a fistful of Blaine’s jersey before taking a swing at him.
I glance over at Alex. His brows are pinched in concern as he watches his husband dodge hits and successfully land a few of his own.
When the Ottawa player drops to the ice, Blaine gives one final hit before releasing him and skating backward.
He’s sporting a cocky grin and chewing on his mouthguard while he skates to the penalty box.
“I hate it when he fights,” Alex grumbles before taking a long gulp of his drink to settle his nerves. “I tell him I don’t like it, but he does it anyway. He says he does it as a show of honor.”
“Sounds a little barbaric, don’t you think?” I tease, but I get his point.
He chuckles. “You’re telling me. But god forbid anyone goes near Elliot, though. It’s like waving a red flag, and he’s like a raging bull. He doesn’t think clearly when someone threatens Elliot.”
It seems Blaine and I have something in common.
It’s four on four as Blaine and the other player both get a five-minute major for fighting. The first period goes scoreless, but high on penalties being served by both teams. When they come out for the second period, Thunder’s head coach looks agitated when they show his face on the jumbotron.
One of Ottawa’s forwards gets a penalty for hooking, putting the Thunder on a power play.
Blaine takes the face-off, passing back to Jackson, who takes a lightning-fast slapshot at the net and scores.
The arena erupts. The players skate by the bench, exchanging fist bumps, and Jackson skates over to Elliot to include him in the celebration too.
The next few minutes are scrappy. It’s obvious Ottawa is getting frustrated.
The hits are getting harder. The fights in the corner are more aggressive than usual.
One of the forwards gets their stick on the puck, and the play moves into the defensive zone.
Zach Reid and Adam Kendrick keep their attention locked on the puck as it’s passed to another forward, but that’s when it happens.
Elliot gets into position to make the save as the player comes barreling toward him.
He collides with Elliot, sending him into the net, and lands on top of him.
Chaos breaks out. Blaine hauls the player off Elliot and slams his fist into the guy’s face.
Almost everyone on the ice is swinging their fists and grabbing jerseys.
All except for Zach Reid, who pushes the net off the posts and takes a knee by Elliot’s head, shielding him from my view.
The trainer leaves the bench and makes his way over to Elliot, crouching on his other side.
My heart races in my chest, panic coursing through my veins as nausea sits at the back of my throat.
Please be okay, I inwardly beg.
“Do you know where to go?” Alex asks, concern written across his face.
I shake my head, unable to speak.
“Let me take you.”