Chapter 17 - Reese
Reese
I was nervous walking into the bar, cake box balanced precariously on one upturned palm as I weaved my way through stale smoke and too many voices talking at once. This wasn’t my usual hang-out, but that wasn’t the reason the low ceiling and walls of people felt like they were closing in on me.
Grayson spotted me first. He lifted his beer in greeting, but it was Theo who hooked my attention like a hand to the front of my shirt. His gaze paused in all the right places as I approached—scooped neckline, mostly-bare thighs, and heels that took me far too long to pick out.
“Saved you a seat.” He casually draped his arm over the back of the empty chair beside him.
The quiet of it threaded through me with embarrassing ease, and I slid in beside him. Our thighs brushed, and every ridiculous, high-voltage memory from earlier today tried to crash the moment.
Theo angled slightly toward me, careful not to raise any eyebrows. His cologne tickled my nose and made me want to lean in. “You look good.”
Three harmless words. They still managed to find all the parts of me that hadn’t fully settled since I straddled him on his couch.
I cleared my throat, mentally scrambling to get a hold of myself. “No ketchup stains. Aren’t you proud?”
His eyes dropped to my chest again, and he frowned slightly. “I don’t know… It looks like you got something right… here.”
This was news to me. I’d double- and triple-checked before leaving my apartment, and when I looked down to see what the hell he was talking about, it was already too late.
His thumb rubbed at a spot I couldn’t see, but the longer he did that, the more I realized what was actually happening.
Because the backs of his fingers had slipped inside my neckline, grazing the exposed mound of my breast as he pretended to do me the favor of clearing the spot.
“Smooth, Bouchard.”
His eyes met mine, and that fucking smirk damn near ruined me.
“Is that for me?”
Theo straightened so fast his chair scraped the wooden floor. I couldn’t be sure what my face looked like when I stared back at van der Berg, but judging by Hunter’s assessing gaze, I was probably better off not knowing.
“Happy farewell, or whatever,” I said, pushing the cake box to the middle of the table.
Cass was seated next to him, Mason on her left, so she did the honors of opening the box to display the cake. Van der Berg’s face lit up, but quickly fell, joining everyone else in confusion as they stared down at the round, jet-black cake.
“Interesting choice of color, but blue’s actually my favorite.” He tilted his head to the side as if that would make it look better.
Theo snorted, then took a long sip of his beer to hide his amusement. I elbowed him in the ribs.
“What do you mean? It’s a puck,” I announced, a little annoyed I had to point out the obvious.
“Ah…” Holly nodded, then explained it slowly as she caught on, “...the whole cake is the puck.”
Realization rippled through the rest of them in “Now I get its” and “Oh, I see its” and my cheeks burned. How could I have messed up something so simple?
Theo squeezed my thigh under the table, sending me into a whole other kind of burn. Which essentially answered my question. I’d been a wreck all day, and it was because of him.
McAvoy clapped a hand on the table. “Safe travels, old pal, and all that jazz. But let’s talk about the actual important stuff—Round 3.”
Loud whoops exploded around the table, with the guys stomping their feet and banging so hard the glasses jumped around. Van der Berg just laughed and lazily raised his glass to me. I couldn’t salute him back without a drink of my own, and was about to go over to the bar when a waitress appeared.
“Perfect timing,” I smiled at her. “A whiskey sour, please.”
She didn’t look like she'd heard me, mostly because she was transfixed on Theo at my side. “Bouchard, right? I’m a huge fan. It’s so great to see you up and about after what happened.”
He smiled politely. “Appreciate the support.”
But that wasn’t the end of it. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and got closer. “You guys sure look like you’re having fun.”
My breathing deepened, slowed down. My jaw ached with how tightly I had it clenched in a scalding smile. From the corner of my eye, Hunter shifted and whispered something to Holly, who’s one eyebrow quirked up.
Dammit.
I sucked at playing it cool.
“Well, if you’re looking for a quiet winding down later, I get off at midnight,” the waitress said, batting her lashes at him.
The fucking audacity. I folded my arms across my chest, bracing for the moment he’d live up to the reputation of every jock in existence.
“Thanks,” he said in that easy accent that turned knees to jelly, “but I’m good.”
Her disappointment was subtle, but enough for me to revel in as she slinked back into the drone of the bar.
I couldn’t look at Theo, because there were too many pairs of eyes paying close attention.
I did, however, feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, the lightest brush of his finger against my thigh as a kind of secret assurance.
Or at least, that’s how I read it.
Seconds later, Theo’s fangirl was back with my drink and I didn’t give it a chance to hit the table. I drowned the moment in citrus and bourbon and after that first deliberate sip, everything felt less claustrophobic.
Soon enough, the table fell back into waves of banter and storytelling, with Shawn nearly falling out of his chair during a particularly dramatic reenactment. The whole time, Theo didn’t touch me again. But the awareness hung there like a hand at the small of my back.
He leaned over soon after Josie started rallying them to break off in pairs for her Reels, close enough for his voice to slip just for me. “Want to get some air?”
My nod was a Pavlovian response, and I’d just pushed back my chair when Grayson stood up and clinked his ring against the side of his beer.
“I just want to say thanks, on behalf of all of us, to Theo Bouchard, the man of the hour.” He paused to make way for more cheers and mild ribbing.
Theo stiffened beside me, although I couldn’t think why.
Then Grayson continued, “He may have almost cost us the game… again, but he sure made up for it by then going on to also be worthless in the fight that broke out afterward.”
Everyone laughed, the other guys tossing their opinions into the mix while Theo just sighed through a smile, rubbing his jaw.
My heart ached for him. I knew it was all in good fun and this was how they were with each other, but I also knew how he’d been pushing himself these past few weeks.
How badly he wanted to vindicate himself with the team.
“Dance with me,” he murmured. It wasn’t an order. More like a temptation wearing the shape of a question.
“Hell yeah, let’s dance!” Tucker jumped to his feet. How he’d heard Theo over the noise, I couldn’t guess.
But he was out of his seat and grabbing my hand before I had the chance to respond, dragging me toward the dance floor. Chairs scraped, and a flood of Surge players followed us.
I glanced back over my shoulder.
Theo was still sitting, jaw set in the kind of annoyed composure that made something warm unfold low in my stomach. His teammates were oblivious, except Hunter, who slanted a knowing look between us before following the group.
The music swelled, and bodies moved around me, all of us dancing with each other. Tucker spun me in a circle I wasn’t prepared for, nearly knocking Cass into a barstool. Even McAvoy was on the floor and having the time of his life, apparently.
I caught Theo’s expression where he sat. Frustration. Amusement. Want.
All of it aimed at me.
Swept up in the high of the moment, I lifted my hand without thinking too hard about it, and curled a single finger at him in a come hither motion.
He didn’t move at first. Just held my gaze, brows tipping into the slightest sulk, like he was committing to the bit purely out of spite. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. Almost reluctantly. Breaking into the kind of smile that made my whole body feel much too warm.
Theo stepped forward. One beat. Two. Cutting through his teammates with an ease that suggested he wasn’t above shoving Mason if necessary. When he reached me, he didn’t touch me, but got close enough that the space between us felt like it had a pulse all its own.
The dance floor shifted. Bodies pivoted, jokes flew, someone bumped into me from behind, and Theo used the motion to slide a half-step nearer, his arm brushing mine like the most casual accident in history.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he said near my ear, his voice low enough to get lost under my skin and the music.
“Someone’s got to,” I shot back, keeping my tone light even though every part of me was tuned to him.
Another shuffle in the crowd, another excuse for proximity, and then his hand found the small of my back. Quick, stealthy, gone before it could be called anything. My skin still warmed under the ghost of it.
Then the song changed into something bass-heavy, the kind you felt first in your sternum and then all the way down. The floor vibrated. The air thumped. It threaded through my spine, and I swore I felt Theo react to it at the same moment I did.
He leaned in, not enough to risk anything, just enough for the wordless acknowledgment to pass between us.
This. Whatever it was. It wasn’t going anywhere.
And even though my head was slightly abuzz with that whiskey sour and too many emotions to process in a single moment, I felt safe to be in this, here, with him.
With everyone around us, we were practically invisible.
The trembling bassline throbbed through my body like it was coming from inside me and not the gigantic speakers suspended from the ceiling.
Emboldened, I stepped into Theo, taking in the warmth of his form that was now being made to move in a slow, teasing rhythm to the grungy beat pounding around us.
I moved too. Partly because I couldn’t help getting infected by the music and partly because it felt like Theo and me were basically one person, and where he went, I had to follow.
Without losing the beat, Theo took my arms and wrapped them around his neck. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching—namely Hunter—but they were all caught up in their own fun to care. So I decided I didn’t care either.
Happy I wouldn’t let go of his neck, Theo’s hands slid back down the bare skin on my arms, making goosebumps shoot out all over despite the stifling heat of the overcrowded bar.
Down my arms, my sides, until they finally came to rest on my ass.
Then he shifted so his thigh pressed up between my legs.
And I just about died.
No sweatpants to guard me from the pressure this time. Nothing but the scant lace of my underwear to separate him from the fiery heat building in my core.
The feel of him consumed me as the racy tempo rose up, and Theo pushed down, making me grind even harder against him.
The rhythmic motion, the smell of him, the sensation of his strong arms around me…
It all had me hovering on the verge of euphoria, the incessant beat driving me closer to the edge.
The melodic switch signaled the onset of a bridge in the song, and I once again felt pressure from his hands on my hips. This time they made me turn around.
I gasped, a shiver coursing through me as the air hit the wet spot between my legs. I instantly missed his thigh, but relished the way his hands moved freely over the rest of me.
One caressed my middle, snaking up and over my breast. My head dropped back on his chest, the tiniest arch in my back pushing up into his grasp.
The other hand made its journey steadily downward, where it first grazed…
then gripped… my thigh. I arched harder, eyes closed to the feel of him, my neck exposed in a kind of sensuous invitation that thankfully, Theo didn’t ignore.
He buried his face there, sucking and nipping gently, leaving a trail of fire everywhere his mouth touched.
And the whole time, we moved together, perfectly in sync, our bodies possessed by desire that wouldn’t subside.
We rode the hypnotic beat just like this, a dance that was so much more than a dance.
I held onto the back of his neck to keep as close to him as physically possible, because any breath of air between us was a breath too much.
My other hand drifted behind him to rest on his ass.
I squeezed down hard, and Theo bucked his hips into me, his hand on my thigh moving now. Inching onward, up under my dress.
My eyes flew open just as he inhaled sharply next to my ear, his hand gliding over the wetness of my inner thigh. The irrefutable evidence of his effect on me. Sure, it was hot in here, and I could just be sweating. But he’d know better.
I discovered I was right when he clutched my arm and spun me roughly back around to face him. His mouth was so close to mine that I breathed his air for those few, hair-raising seconds.
“We have to get out of here. Now.” His voice was nothing more than a choked-up rasp, but I heard him loud and clear.
No time was given to hesitation or deliberation. I grabbed his hand and led him off the floor, dodging through the crowd of sweaty bodies as we moved toward the exit.
A rush of cool air hit us as we emerged, and I stopped dead in my tracks, stalled by McAvoy’s broad chest.
“I won’t keep you,” he said, his gaze moving between us with subtle judgment. “Just wanted to say… I know Grayson played it off as a joke before, but Theo… you’ve never questioned me.”
Theo’s fingers clamped tighter around mine. He nodded stiffly.
McAvoy took his silence as a bid to go on, which he did. “Hopper probably knows more than I do, but as your coach, I’m telling you to sit out Round 3 and fix whatever the hell’s going on with you.”
“Coach, I—”
“You’re out, Theo.” No number of beers could’ve dulled the gruffness in McAvoy’s tone. “And if I were you, I’d take the Hail Mary that management’s giving you.”
His nostrils flared with the effort it took him to stay calm, but I felt the anger vibrating through him. Just like I’d felt his heat moments ago.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll be traded,” McAvoy replied.