Chapter 40
FORTY
DYLAN
I’M A CONFIDENT guy. Some may say cocky. But getting Sierra Romanova to be my girlfriend is pure luck. Then managing to get her to stay the whole night to wake up to her sleeping soundly felt like winning the lottery.
Now, my girlfriend is straddling me, completely naked.
She finds my hand and presses her palm to mine, measuring the difference.
Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, head tilted as she sees how much bigger mine is.
Then she looks at me, catches my gaze on her, and I swear she blushes a pale pink.
She just fucked me like a porn star, but one look from me, and the girl’s gone shy.
“Do you have a pen?” she asks.
I reach over to my bedside table and grab a pen. My hands rest on her waist, my thumb brushing over her scar. She doesn’t flinch or stiffen when I do that anymore.
“Palm,” Sierra orders, clicking the pen open.
Focused as ever, like with everything she does, Sierra draws a circle, two dots, and a swipe.
“What do you think?”
I find what I expect. A smiley face on my palm. It causes something to thaw in my chest. With the same hand on the back of her head, I pull her down to my lips. “I love it, baby.”
Her laugh is light, and prettier than anything else I’ll ever hear.
Sierra trails a finger over my jaw. “What’s this from?” she asks, touching the faded scar.
“Junior year. Qualifiers against Boston College. I got a major.”
She trails lower until she’s touching my navel, looking at me like I’m something new and not used. “I’m patient, but not that patient, Sierra.”
“What? I just wanted to know about your scars.”
I flip her under me, and she gasps. “I’m sure. That’s why I could feel how wet you are right on my stomach.”
Her cheeks pinken, but I don’t let her get shy on me. I slide down her stomach and press featherlight kisses on her core. But just as she starts moaning my name, her phone rings.
“Don’t answer,” I rasp. And when I push her thighs apart and press my face there, she doesn’t protest. “Give me another one.”
She shakes uncontrollably. “I can’t—”
My phone dings with a text, but I squeeze Sierra’s thighs to keep her attention on me. “Dylan,” she says, but I barely hear it over the taste of her. “Your phone.”
“Ignore it.”
She sinks her fingers into my hair, yanks my head up. She drags my name across her tongue in a stern voice.
I sigh, reaching for my phone. “It’s Lidia.”
We’ve been expecting word on if we got the Grand Prix host pick. With our scores and media attention, we have a shot. Sierra springs up out of bed and grabs her phone. She takes the crewneck I left discarded on my bed frame and tugs it on.
She calls Lidia back, and each ring that punctures the air feels like we’re closer to the edge of a cliff.
“Devushka.” Lidia’s voice filters through the speaker. Sierra deflates and falls into me, like she can tell just from the sound of her coach’s voice. “You two were amazing. Everything was near perfection, and you should be so proud of that.
“You didn’t make it this time, but we still have the whole year. You’ve got a long career ahead of you, Sierra.”
Sierra just sits there, speechless. I take her phone.
“Thanks for letting us know, Lidia,” I say, my voice calm, even though my chest feels like it’s being stung.
“Who got it?” Sierra asks with a shaky voice.
The line is silent for so long, we already know the answer before Lidia says, “Justin and Julia.”
A choked sound escapes Sierra.
When I assure Lidia we’ll be fine and hang up, I turn to my partner. Gently, I pull her down to lie with me. My fingers trace the tiny bump on her skull.
“I thought it would hurt more. I mean, it does, it burns, but nothing like it used to,” she whispers, her voice barely above a murmur. “I think it’s because you’re here.”
I slide my hand down her back. “I’ll always be here, baby.”
Her laugh is soft, barely a sound, but it melts right into me. “At least now you can finally focus on hockey and the draft. You deserve every single string Kilner pulled for you, Dylan.”
“I’m not thinking about that right now,” I say.
“But I want you to. Because for the first time in years, I fell in love with skating again. It feels like it used to, like home. You helped me get there. I used to feel so guilty about not being good enough for my partner to stay, but you never make me feel like a burden. For the first time I haven’t tied my worth to my scores.
So, I mean it when I say you should do what you poured your entire life into. If anyone gets it, it’s me.”
When I glance down, she’s already looking at me, her face painted with something raw and unspoken.
“You trust me?” I murmur, lifting her chin, holding her there, so close I can feel the words on her lips.
“So much.”
The need to keep her, to hold her in my arms, shifts into a gnawing, obsessive type of possession. I want her to need me. Not just for this, but for everything.
I would keep this girl forever if she let me.
I’M QUITTING HOCKEY.
That’s not a thought I’ve ever had, but something changed last night and this morning. I want to do it now, when Sierra knows it’s not impulsive. Missing the Grand Prix means I can practice harder for nationals. I’d get her on that first-place podium no matter what.
“You’re sure about this?” Kilner asks me after practice for a third time. When I said I’d play one last game, he stared at me for so long, I noticed the brown flecks in his blue eyes.
I love this sport, but it doesn’t even come close to the feeling I get when I skate with Sierra.
I’ve had this pull to be on the ice my whole life, and I’ve always thought it was for hockey, but the moment my hand finds the warmth of hers, it’s all I care about.
Winning feels useless if I’m not doing it with her.
“I am.”
Kian sniffles beside me. “Like really, really sure?” I told him on the way to practice, which I regretted, because he won’t leave my side. In Coach’s office, he hugged me for an entire seven minutes and didn’t stop until Kilner told him he’d be on bag skates.
“Yes, Kian, I’m sure. I’ve thought this through, and I love hockey, but this is my future. It’s where I’m meant to be.”
Kilner smiles, and it doesn’t freak us out this time. “I’m proud of you, son.” Then he stands and I do too, because he hugs me. The man’s getting sentimental. It’s weird.
Kian doesn’t ask to join the hug, he just does.
When we exit the arena, he’s already on his phone, filling everyone in.
My phone blows up, but I only check Sierra’s text.
She tells me she’s been studying all day and she’s going to sleep early.
I don’t bother checking the rest of the messages from the team.
Kian and I head home, where everyone’s watching the game.
Aiden’s on the couch icing his calf when he sees me. Since he hasn’t been cleared to play, he stuck around after my birthday. “Heard you made a decision.”
I nod, plopping on the cushion beside him. “If you’re going to talk me out of it—”
“I’m not. I think it’s the right thing. I’m proud of you, D.”
A weight lifts off my shoulders, and I can tell from the way he says it that he’s been waiting years to say those words. I’m just glad I finally feel proud of myself too.
“Thanks,” I say. “It fucking feels like it. Like things are finally right, aside from all the bullshit with my parents.” The guys go eerily still.
Like it’s a shock to hear me bring up anything about myself.
Then it happens; I spill everything. I tell them how my dad is still cheating, about the vow renewal call from them a few months back, the weed, and the failed drug test.
My friends blink at me like they’ve never seen me before. “Their vow renewal? Is that what that invitation was?” Kian asks. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I don’t want to be the friend that burdens you with my shit. We all have our own lives, and friends are supposed to make life easier, not harder.”
Aiden’s brows knit together. “You think you’re not allowed to have problems because you’re … you? We’ve all relied on each other, that’s how we’ve gotten through our shit.”
“I’m supposed to be the one who doesn’t take anything serious. Not the one unloading his family drama. No one wants that kind of person around.”
“But we do,” Aiden says. “Hiding it doesn’t mean we didn’t know you were struggling. I hope you know that we’d listen, whether it’s the carefree you or the one struggling to talk about your parents.”
Cole and Sebastian peel their gaze away from the TV. “Us too, Double D.”
Kian nods. “You’ve been there for us, more times than I can count. It’s only right that we get to do the same. That’s how this friendship works.”
The vulnerability feels raw, like an open wound that I haven’t shown anyone but Sierra. For this first time, it doesn’t feel like I’m leaving something behind, it feels like I’ve gained so much more.