Chapter 23
“You know that you don’t need to use that much soap on your hair, right?” I ask as we stand across each other in the shower. “Here, look.” I take the bottle of shampoo and pour a drop into my palm. “May I?”
He turns around. “Please do.”
I peek at his bare buns and then I lather the soap in his hair. “You don’t need that much.”
He holds up the puddle of shampoo in his hand. “What am I going to do with this now? I don’t want to waste it.”
“Put it in your hair then,” I chuckle as he scrubs it into his scalp.
“So, how much do you use for your hair?”
I grab my shampoo bottle and pour as much as he just had in his palm. “I have long hair, so I need it.”
He smiles, watching me lather it. “That smell is my favorite.”
“Oh, so you do like vanilla?” I tease.
He pulls me in, smelling the shampoo. “I fucking love it.”
I smile at him while I rinse my hair first, leaving him without any splash of water this entire time.
He watches me. “You really are my best friend, Ads.”
I'm pulling out two loaves of bread from the oven while I cook the spaghetti noodles. The savory aroma of garlic and herbs fills the kitchen, making my stomach rumble in anticipation. Balancing the hot bread pans, I set them on the counter to cool before turning my attention back to the stovetop. Cooking in Ryan’s kitchen is a dream. This is luxury.
Pasta is my specialty - the one dish I know I can nail every time. And tonight, it needs to be perfect. I'm hosting dinner for the guys who helped me move into Ryan's place last weekend and I'll be damned if I don't wow their hockey skates off with my culinary skills.
I taste the sauce, letting the rich flavors of ripe tomato, basil, and a hint of wine dance across my tongue. Perfection. Nodding in satisfaction, I cover the pot to let it simmer. You'd think that cooking for a bunch of hockey players would be daunting, but I've got this.
Lost in thought as I absently stir the noodles, I don't hear Ryan come up behind me until his arms are wrapping around my waist, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. I’m startled for a second before relaxing into him.
“Something smells amazing in here,” he murmurs appreciatively, pressing a soft kiss to my neck.
I can't help but grin, tilting my head to give him better access. “I hope so. It’s been cooking all day.”
It's only a slight exaggeration. I did spend the better part of the afternoon prepping and cooking, determined to get everything just right. Luckily, I find the process therapeutic rather than stressful.
“I don't know how you do it, Ads.” Ryan's voice is filled with warm admiration as he gives me a gentle squeeze. “You make hosting look effortless. The guys are going to be licking their plates.”
I turn in his arms, looping my own around his neck. “I just want to make a good impression, since I’m going to be seeing a lot more of them now that I'm living here and we’re officially together.”
“I'm going to have to beat them off with my hockey stick after they taste your cooking.” He smiles down at me, eyes sparkling with affection.
“You can only beat me with that hockey stick of yours,” I joke, fighting back a smile.
He chuckles, leaning down to brush a kiss across my lips.
“I can think of many ways you can do that for me.”
With that, he releases me, moving to snag a piece of the cooling bread.
“I’m quality testing.” He nods and blows to cool it down. “I have to make sure I approve before the critics come.” He winks, dodging my swat and popping a fluffy piece of bread in his mouth.
I roll my eyes, turning back to the stove to hide my smile. “Can you set up the table? They should be here soon, and I’m almost done with this.”
“Yes, I can do that.”
By the time the doorbell rings, everything is ready and being kept warm. I smooth my hair and take a deep breath before following Ryan to greet the guys.
Chase, Andrew, and Colton all pile in, talking loudly over each other and telling Ryan to join in on a random argument about someone they know.
They greet me with bear hugs, asking how I’m doing. Andrew says, “It smells amazing in here.”
I smile. “I hope you came hungry.”
Colton smacks Ryan on the back. “You lucky bastard.” He turns to me and says, “Damn Addie, it smells like an Italian grandmother's kitchen in here!”
Ryan asks the guys, “Ready to eat?”
They waste no time filling their plates, piling pasta, sauce, meatballs, and bread. I hope I cooked enough. Feeding four grown athletic men is no easy feat.
When Chase takes his first bite and immediately groans, I smile. Ryan takes his first bite and gives me a thumbs-up.
“Holy shit, Ads. This is incredible,” Colton mumbles around a mouthful of food.
Andrew nods in agreement.
“So Andrew,” Colton starts, twirling spaghetti around his fork, “I heard you've been logging some extra ice time with your physical therapist. Anything you want to share with the class?”
Andrew nearly chokes on a meatball, his face turning an impressive shade of red. “You’re getting nothing from me, man. We just ran some drills together, that's all. She's been helping me work on my bad knee.”
Colton snorts into his beer. “Right. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Like you're one to talk, Mr. Walks-of-Shame every other weekend.”
“Hey, Ryan can’t be the only one getting all the action.”
Ryan starts coughing and laughing at the same time.
“But I always make sure to call an Uber for my guests the next morning like the good guy that I am.”
Ryan barks out a laugh. “Oh man, remember that time we ordered you an Uber XL and the driver thought he was supposed to pick up six drunk chicks from your place? I thought he was gonna have a stroke when you stumbled out alone with your shirt on backward.”
The whole table dissolves into laughter as Colton flips Ryan off good-naturedly. I remember that story from a few months ago.
“Hey, Andrew, I think it’s off-limits to be crushing on the PT though,” Colton says, and it’s obvious he doesn’t like the attention on him.
“Fuck off, Colton,” Andrew says, which makes Colton laugh. “We're friends. Can't a guy and a girl just be friends without everyone making it weird?”
The rest of the guys all turn to look at me and Ryan with varying degrees of pointed amusement. I feel my cheeks heat even as I laugh.
“Hey, leave us out of this,” I protest weakly. “We're not the best example.”
“Uh huh,” Chase says skeptically. “You two are the perfect example.”
Ryan shrugs. “We’ve been in love this entire time, so it’s a special case.”
“You both lived in denial for years?” Colton asks, amused. He turns his head to Andrew. “It’s funny how that works, isn’t it?”
“It’s a work relationship. There’s nothing going on.”
“Yeah. Mhm,” Colton teases and I can see he’s getting on Andrew’s nerves.
“Okay,” I interrupt, seeing that Chase just took the last bite on his plate. “Grab seconds if you’d like, but who wants to take home a plate?”
The guys all claim a plate, grinning at me sweetly. I stand to grab some takeout containers as they make a second plate.
“I think I could do this all the time,” Andrew says, spearing another meatball. “Thanks for the invite and for cooking for us, Addie.”
I smile at his appreciation. Chase and Colton jump on it too.
It strikes me suddenly how lucky I am to have this - not just Ryan, but what comes with him.
Yes, we were always best friends, but I rarely ever hung out with his friends or the team so intimately like this.
I’m excited to get to know the team better, and now I’m wishing they had girlfriends to bring with them.
A few months ago, I never could've imagined myself here, comfortable and happy in the midst of a group of professional athletes.
“We should definitely plan to do this more often.”
Under the table, Ryan's hand finds mine and gives it a squeeze, like he can sense my thoughts. I glance over at him, and he smiles, soft and private, just for me.
Yeah. I'm a lucky girl alright.
The chatter continues to flow as freely as the wine, the guys trading inside jokes and stories that leave me clutching my stomach with laughter. Every so often, one of them will turn to me for backup or to get my take, making sure to include me in any way that they can.
It's nice. More than nice. It feels like family.
And when Ryan’s arm slides around my shoulder, that feels pretty damn nice too.
Eventually, the yawns start outnumbering the wisecracks and the guys begin making noises about heading home. Ryan stands to walk them out and I follow, accepting their sleepy hugs and murmuring thanks with a smile.
When the door closes behind the last of them, I slump against it briefly, tired but so happy. Ryan wraps an arm around my shoulders, tugging me into his side.
“I’m going to clean the kitchen while you eat the cookies you hid from them.”
I smile because he saw me hiding a dozen just for us.
He starts cleaning up as I sit on top of the counter, eating a few cookies.
And this, right here, is everything younger me ever wanted – this sense of partnership, of belonging. Ryan has given me a home in every sense of the word, and I can only pray I'm doing the same for him.
When the last dish is washed and put to dry, I offer him the tray of cookies.
I raise the cookie already in my hand to take my own bite, but he beats me to it, leaning in and capturing my mouth with his. I make a surprised noise in the back of my throat before melting into the kiss, my lips parting automatically.
I chuckle as he continues to peck my mouth. I kiss him back but end up feeding him the rest of my cookie. He kisses me one more time.
“I love living with you, Baddie.”
I hop off the counter, dusting off the crumbs on my hands. “I was afraid that was going to happen,” I joke.
He grabs my hips and kisses the top of my head. He watches me as I walk away to the bedroom that is no longer just his. It’s ours.