Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Zaiah
“And this!” Len exclaims, twirling into the room with another new outfit. The way she glows, not only lighting up the room but making my chest warm, should tell me everything I need to know about my feelings for her as she gives me an impromptu fashion show with the clothes Iz helped her buy.
“Oh, I like that.”
She poses in the doorway, one leg up on the frame, arching her back with her hand outstretched. The thin material of the shirt tightens around her chest. I laugh while a thunderous need to claim ricochets inside.
She giggles, pushing away from the door, unaware of how transfixed I am. Of the feelings coursing through me. I could kick myself for letting my loss dim her light yesterday.
It’ll never happen again.
She holds up a finger. “There’s more.”
“More?” She’s already shown me a few. Iz must’ve talked her into buying a whole new wardrobe.
“Oh yes,” she calls back from within the confines of her attached en suite. “I had to call Dad to tell him I was using the emergency credit card he gave me. I was worried he’d report it stolen.”
“So, you made up with him, then?”
“I…spoke to him.” Shopping bags rustle and then stop. “It was brief. We didn’t talk about what happened, but he knows I barely ever use the card, so he was fine with it. In fact, he told me I should use it more often.”
“But you don’t?”
“I can do things myself. Without him.”
I love how strong she is. Determined. Her dad is only misguided when it comes to her future. It’s clear he loves her. “You should have a candid conversation with him—without yelling. Get your feelings out there.”
She peeks her head out, her blonde hair cascading down like a waterfall. “I agree. Easier said than done, though. To catch time with him, I have to contend with the very thing that bugs me about him.”
I move up the bed, my stomach flopping with her words. “Is it really about hockey, though? You don’t mind me playing hockey.”
I hold in a breath, worried about what she’s going to say, especially with our argument yesterday.
When she doesn’t say anything, I keep going. “What I mean is…he could be a businessman in another field. Maybe a corporate hotshot for a big financing company, and I bet he’d still work a lot and try to get you set you up with his work…”
She steps out of the bathroom, a light tank top hugging her. It stops an inch above her shorts, and it’s hard not to take her in like that, even though we’re talking about such a serious topic.
“I know you’re right,” she says, brows furrowing. “I’ve had conversations with myself about how hating hockey is irrational. To be fair, I don’t much like any sport. Remember the articles I wrote about the football team?”
“Yeah, but I don’t care about football either.”
A grin pulls her lips apart. “You’re too cute. You don’t want me to hate hockey.”
“I already know you don’t.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Just because I go to the rink to cheer my man on? I could be dying inside. Slowly suffocating.”
“You aren’t,” I challenge.
“Maybe I only enjoy hanging out with your family?”
“That ranks up there, but there’s more. I can feel it.”
She shrugs. “Too bad I’m stubborn and won’t ever admit it.”
Turning, she whisks away again, and I laugh to myself. It’s so easy with her. There are no hidden meanings behind her words. No riddles or tests I have to figure out. She wears her heart on her sleeve. She says what she means, and the fact it’s a breath of fresh air is ridiculous but worth its weight in gold.
She squeals, the sound sending my heart racing. I jump out of the bed. “Are you okay?”
I nearly fall on my ass trying to maneuver around the corner of the bed. I’m steps away from the bathroom when she appears in the doorway. Grabbing the doorframe, I have to put the brakes on so I don’t accidentally slam into her.
She grins, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “You scared the crap out of me. I thought you were hurt.”
“I have good news.”
My brain winds down from alarm mode so I can finally take in my surroundings. She’s standing in front of me in nothing but a black lace bra and shorts. I swallow. “Is it that you look amazing in this outfit? Not that I’d want you wearing it outside the apartment.”
I step toward her, but she stops me with a hand to my chest. “It’s bigger than that.”
“Nothing is bigger than you.” My mouth goes dry as soon as the words leave because I realize how true they really are. I’m falling for this girl, so fast, so freaking hard. She’s…everything.
She also isn’t looking at me, and instead, is staring at her phone.
My stomach squeezes. If she knew the thoughts racing through my head right now, she’d probably drop her phone in a heartbeat. I open my mouth to tell her, but she says, “Remember when we had that discussion about doing anything we could so you could live out your hockey dream?”
I nod.
“Shortly thereafter, I threw myself into research mode, and I found a few things out.”
“Yeah?”
“Around that same time, I wrote your coach an email asking him for all your game tape, and…” she draws out the word, “he’s given me access to the online files! Zaiah, do you know what this means?”
I blink at her, thoughts swirling through my head.
“We’re going to make you a press package.” She touches my nose with her fingertip. “We’re going to gather your best plays, best attributes, I can even record you doing practice drills if that isn’t in here, and then we’re going to apply to AHL teams.”
My legs bow underneath me, and I grip the doorframe for support. “You…did this? For me?”
She nods, her fingers wrapped around what she thinks is the gift. My game tape. But she doesn’t understand it’s more than that. It’s the way she believes in me. It’s the way she’s gone out on a limb to show me that she thinks I’m more than what I am.
“Lenore, you’re—” I break off, three words tumbling through my head, but I don’t want to say them and freak her out. But the truth is, she’s the trophy at the end of a long life. I could be playing hockey, I could be coaching it from the sidelines or owning a team like her father, or I could be plain old Isaiah James, working for someone else, but if I have her, I’ll be rich.
“Amazing? Smart? Talented?”
“All of those things.”
She thrusts the phone in front of me. “You should see what your coach wrote.”
I read his words, rubbing my chest.
Dear Ms. Robertson,
I appreciate your email and am happy to share whatever the team has on Zaiah. He’s a talented young man who hasn’t been given a fair shot. If I’m honest, I should have kicked him off the team a few years ago so he could blossom. I’d be happy to make some connections myself and will start brainstorming.
Thank you for your support,
Coach
A moment of pure awe swallows me whole. “He sees it too?”
“He must’ve told you.”
“I don’t know. He’s always trying to get the best out of me, but it’s another thing altogether to have him on my side.”
She squeals again, throwing herself around my torso until her legs are wrapped around my hips, her phone falling, forgotten, to the floor. “I got something else, too.”
I cock my head, and she instructs me to take her to bed. My brows rise, but it becomes clear quickly that she didn’t mean it like that. As soon as I sit on the bed, she leans over, reaching underneath. I grab her hips to steady her.
“This is heavier than I remembered,” she grunts, but finally, she heaves a box up and holds it between us. “I checked and neither of our laptops were powerful enough for video editing software, so I bought this.”
She nudges it toward me, and my brain finally clicks. “You bought a laptop?”
“She’s a big one. She has sexy RAM, breathtaking graphics, and the screen is…” She makes an exaggerated kiss noise and smiles. “Big Bertha has everything we need to splice together a package for you.”
“And you think you hate hockey.”
I move the laptop to the bed, and she leans into me. “It’s not about hockey. It’s about you.”
I hook my hands under her thighs to pull her close, tugging her down so I can kiss her. Her lips melt against mine, and I eat her up before rolling her onto the bed. “This means everything to me. Thank you.”
She locks her legs behind my ass. “I have a good feeling.” She works her fingertips through the hair above my ear. “The scouts won’t come to you, but you can go to the scouts. We’ll make people see.”
I take a deep breath, and it shudders out of me like an exhausted engine. A heavy feeling remains, sitting on my chest.
“What?” she asks.
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Zaiah, the only way you’ll disappoint me is if you don’t try. You can’t tell me you want to make hockey your life, then sit back and not do anything about it. I do have my dad’s genes in me. For better or for worse.”
“I… What if I fail?”
“What’s that meme? ‘Oh, but darling, what if you don’t?’”
What if I don’t?
I lean down, capturing her lips with mine. I’ve hit the lottery with her. Someone who pushes me to be better. Someone who believes in me and supports me.
The kiss turns from sweet to insistent.
I rock my hard length into her, and she breaks the seal of our lips to moan. Reaching my hands between us, I make quick work of her shorts. First, unbuttoning, and then leaning back so I can slide them past her knees and off. I kiss a trail down her neck, licking her collarbone and then the swell of her breast. Her chest heaves. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination, her nipple poking against the detailed fabric. I wrap my mouth around it, flicking my tongue over the bud.
“Zaiah.” Her hips move against mine and then she stops, nudging her panties down.
I shove my joggers down next, just enough to free my dick. I need her so fucking bad.
I arch into her. Her soft, yielding flesh giving way to me. She’s wet already, and that only makes me harder, more fervent.
“I need you,” I breathe, finding her entrance.
She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off by sliding inside her in one long stroke. Her unspoken words turn into a cry that whips through her entire body.
“Jesus,” she sighs once I’m fully seated. Reaching down, she traces her fingertips across my backside before staring up at me. “Then you better take me.”
I prop myself up, pistoning into her with a force we haven’t tried before. Her eyes fly open, pleasure sizzling there, egging me on.
She meets my strokes with her hips until we’re fucking. There’s no other way to explain it. This isn’t two people making love, this is two people trusting one another enough to let it all out, showing our raw wants and desire.
Luckily, we were adult enough to have had the birth control and the clean talk. I had myself tested after Trish, just in case, and Len hadn’t been with anyone in a while, so coming together like this—skin on skin—is stress-free.
My breathing ratchets up. The force of my strokes jiggles her breasts, and I reach up to pull the cups down so I can watch them move uninhibited. “Tell me what you want,” I grind out.
“This,” she says, still meeting me, her fingertips digging into my skin. “Just like this.”
“You like the feel of me?”
She moans, the sound drawn out, and then a short cry flies from her mouth like an exclamation point.
I keep my gaze on her, sweat dotting my brow. I could come inside her now. Lose myself in her.
“Babe…”
“I’m almost there,” she pants, as if she can read my mind. “Please don’t stop. God, don’t stop.”
Fuck it. I’m never stopping.
I lift up, pistoning my hips until her eyes widen again. “Zaiah!”
My name on her lips only encourages me. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Mmm.”
“So fucking good, sweetie. Will you come for me?”
“Oh.”
We meet a few more times, and as soon as I feel her pussy squeeze my dick, I come too, the passion on her face and the noises escaping her fueling my orgasm. Her body grips me, and I rock into her until the convulsing stops.
Arms heavy, I drop my head next to her on the bed. “Shit, Len.”
She wraps her arm around me, working her fingers up my neck and into my hairline. “That was hot.”
Her pussy squeezes my dick again, and I groan. “Are you doing that?”
“You can feel it?”
I shudder again. “Oh, I fucking feel it.”
Standing, I pull her with me, then dip down to scoop her up, carrying her into her bathroom. Clothes are everywhere, and I step around them to walk her into the shower. It isn’t big by any means, but we make it work. She unclasps her bra and throws it out at the last second before the spray comes on.
“We should do that again.”
I grin into her neck. “Quick? Hot?”
“I was going with passionate.”
“That too.”
She shivers in my arms. “Thanks for making me puckable.”
I snicker into her neck, kissing her there. “Thank you for believing in me. For everything.”
“Of course, Zaiah. You’re going to do it.”