CHAPTER 13
LUCY
You don't have a hair dryer, do you?” I was a hot mess as I put my clothes back on. “Where is my bra? I think I flung it somewhere.”
“Here it is.” Sasha picked up my bra and looked at the tag.
I swiped it away quickly. “What are you doing?”
“I'm looking at the size so I can tell the boys when they ask.”
“Uh!” I gasped and smacked him on the shoulder. “You better fucking not!” I whipped him with my bra and chased his around the bathroom.
“I'm just kidding!” We crashed into each other, nearly slipping on the floor. “I promise I won't give the details in the locker room. I promise!” He yelped as I pointed a finger at him.
“Well, I mean. You can tell them some stuff, but only like how amazing I am and how you can't get enough of me and basically want to make me orgasm all the time. That would be fine.” I winked and continued to dress.
“That wouldn't be a lie.” He found my socks in the corner and brought them to me. Then he went into the closet in the bathroom and pulled out a hair dryer.
A pink hair dryer. My stomach sunk at the fact that it was most likely left by whoever shared his bed last.
“Oh, buddy. If you think I'm going to use your last lay's hairdryer you are mistaken.”
“It's my sisters, I promise. She and her friends had this big sleepover on my last away trip. She's twenty-three and still lives at home while she goes to school. My mom is a bit of a hard ass and my sister wanted to impress her friends, so I let them come here.”
“Hmm.” I pondered his story.
“I swear. Honestly, I really haven't had much of a relationship for like, boy, uh, seven, eight years.”
My eyes hot open wide. “You haven't had sex in eight years?”
“Oh, I've had sex, yes. But like, asking a girl to my house, going out to dinner. No. I've been in Texas for twelve years and, to be honest, it wasn't really my scene. Beautiful place, nice people, but I'm from New York, you know?”
“The puck bunnies really came through for you, huh?”
His face turned the cutest shade of red. I grabbed the hair dryer and pulled a brush from my purse.
“They're actually pretty nice if you can get over the fact that your kind of a notch in their bedpost.”
Sasha rubbed at his shoulder, standing behind me as I brushed my hair in the mirror, wearing nothing but a towel that hung dangerously low on his hip bones.
The heartthrob. I could see every muscle in his entire body as they were deep into the season and he was in peak physical condition.
His body was tight and I wanted nothing more than to rip the towel away,
“I have no beef with the bunnies. I'm all for ladies going after what they want. I don't agree with married men, or even guys with girlfriends, going after them though. That is a big no-no in my book.” I was talking in general and turned on the hair dryer and started my hair.
But within a few strokes of the brush Sasha gently took the hair dryer and turned it off.
“I know this is a shitty thing about hockey, but I'm not going to be humping or fucking or kissing anyone else while I'm with you.”
Oh, the sweet man, made me blush.
“I wasn't accusing you, Sasha. You know, we are at that awkward beginning stage when it is all great and passionate.
But I'm an adult and I don't have it in me to stay up late scouring social media to make sure you're not with another woman on the road. So, if you want to be exclusive say it. If you want to keep it casual, say it.”
Please say exclusive, please say exclusive!
“I'm already yours, exclusively. I thought I just made that clear.” He pushed me up against the vanity, his face an inch from mine, about to claim me. “But it is your choice if you're mine.”
I was about to jump in with some sarcastic reply, but Sasha held his fingers to my lips. His voice got real low and serious. His blue eyes burning hot like a star, so misleading that the color wasn't red, able to burn twice as quick.
“But I will warn you, Lucy. When you say you're mine, you're mine. And everything that goes along with it.”
I lost my balance and had to grip his shoulders to keep upright. His hands reflectively caught my waist. His towel fell to the floor. His hard cock straining against my jeans.
“You're mine?” I whispered.
He nodded his head. “So, what's it gonna be? Are you going to give me a shot? Give us a shot? I know hockey makes it complicated. I know there are strings attached.” He was starting to ramble, desperation leeching into his voice with my lingering silence.
“Sasha.”
His mouth shut quickly.
“You had me on the ice.” I rolled my eyes and took the hair dryer back.
It was the truth. Even with my fear of my privacy being violated.
Even with that niggling doubt of why someone who could get anyone wanted to be with me.
Even with the opposition of the entire WAG scene.
Even with the possibility Sasha would turn on his heels and run once my foul mouth got too much for him. I was still his.
“Good.” He backed up slowly and sat on the cold tile floor. Just watching me, like he couldn't see anything else.
◆◆◆
“Are you sure you don't want to take the call in the bedroom? You're entitled to your privacy.” Sasha was in the kitchen making the both of us a sandwich after our activities left us ravenous.
“Not really. I mean, what is privacy after what we just did? Or what you just did. I just got done.”
“Oh, you helped.” He licked something off the knife and my stomach dropped.
“Plus, she already told me I have a fibroid. What else is there to say? I think this is just a confirmation call.”
“Is that like a tumor?” He spun around quickly, but I waved him to quiet down as the doctor came on the screen.
“Hi, Lucy.” Dr Lynn's face smiled on the zoom call.
“Hi, Dr Lynn.” I smiled back.
“So, we have the results back from your ultrasound and your MRI and it was as I expected. But you don't just have one fibroid, but many.”
That was shocking. “I do?”
“Yes, one almost the size of a mango.”
I looked down at my stomach. Sure, I had gained a few pounds and when I felt my lower belly it was hard at times, but a mango?
“Oh.” I really didn't know what to say.
Sasha had stayed in the kitchen cooking and prepping, but I knew he was listening in.
When he heard my tone of voice change he came over and sat by me out of view of the call.
And if I wasn't so shocked by Dr Lynn's message I probably would have swooned and batted my eyelashes at him.
But it was not the time, my body went straight into self-preservation mode.
“What I would like to know is other than the breakthrough bleeding, are you feeling any pain?”
“No, not at all.” I racked my brain.
“What about during sex?”
I swallowed hard. Maybe I should have taken the call in the next room. “Well, I haven't had sex in two years, maybe three. So, I guess I wouldn't know.” I could feel sweat percolate on my forehead. I rubbed at it with the back of my sleeve. The room suddenly felt hot.
“OK, that explains your lack of pain with fibroids this size.”
Sasha laid out his hand, palm side up on the counter and tapped it twice, letting me know it was there for me to grab. So, I grabbed it. I squeezed it. I held onto to him tightly.
“Do you expect me to have pain with sex?” I shuddered.
“Yes, I do.” She wrote something down on a piece of paper.
Fuck.
“What happens now?” I pulled at my sweater. Was it a hundred degrees in his damn apartment? The atmosphere felt warmer.
“I recommend seeing the surgeon in our group. The fibroids will keep getting larger and your symptoms will not go away. They will only get worse. She will give you your options and the two of you can decide the best course of action.”
“I'll need surgery?” I could barely get the words out.
What the absolute fuck was happening? The room started spinning and it took everything I had not to quickly fall part.
“If you want to feel better, something has to be done. Do you have any more questions for me?” She smiled again. I couldn't imagine what it was like to give people such news all the time.
“I don't know, um, I don't think so.” The stupid fucking turtleneck felt like it was blocking off my air supply.
“Is it cancerous?” Sasha spoke up, but didn't move in front of the camera.
“Oh, is someone else there?” Dr Lynn perked up.
“Yes, my man is next to me. He asked if it was cancerous.” The panic sent blotches along my skin. I could feel it.
“The likelihood is very low. Fibroids are a common occurrence, but they will be tested for cancer once they are removed.”
“OK, thank you.”
We said our pleasant goodbyes that I really don't remember. My eyes went blank. My ears muffled and all I could think about was getting the damn sweater off.
“Do you need some water?” Sasha looked at me with strange eyes.
“I need this stupid sweater off.” I tried pulling it over my head, but in my anger it ripped at the arm pit when I was tugging. “Oh, fucking great.” I let it drop to the counter and looked up at the ceiling.
“Fucking great.” I whispered to myself, trying only to feel the cool air on my skin and not to cry.
“Lucy, do you want some water?” Sasha was standing near me but could almost sense I didn't want to be touched. “Are you OK? What can I do? I don't know what to do for you.”
I just put my hands up in a “Wait” position. We stood in the kitchen for a few moments as I tried to calm down.
Surgery? What does that even mean? Cut open from the stomach? Through the belly button? Going under? Not being able to work? Stress and fear and lots of crying and eating ice cream when I thought my life was going great?
I took some deep breaths, some huge breaths that were more like hyperventilating, but after a while they slowed. All the previous thoughts washed away to a nothingness. I was a little numb.
“A sandwich would be great right now.” I finally found my voice.
“Of course.”
Sasha went to move around the counter and into the kitchen to get the food. Before he could get too far away I grabbed his arm, holding him at arms length. My fingers felt like they were holding on to him for dear life.
“Thank you.” My voice was stronger.
“Anytime.” He slowly moved towards me, hesitating in case Lucifer lashed out at him.
But that really wasn't my style. He placed his strong arms around me and held me. But I didn't want to cry, not when I didn't know all the facts. He still smelled like lavender bubbles when I realized there would be no sex for us for a while. That devastated me.
I placed my head on his chest, shaking it back and forth. How was I supposed to bring up the subject?
“Come on, let's eat. We both need to eat something.” He pulled me over to a seat and set out a sandwich on a plate with a dill pickle on the side.
It made me smile. “This looks fancy. What kind of sandwich is it?” Avoidance would have to be my saving grace.
“Cranberry chicken salad with lettuce and a little paprika.”
“A Cranberry chicken salad with lettuce and a little paprika? Sarge! I never in a million years thought you would be eating such a delicate and down right adorable sandwich!” I laughed. And it felt good to laugh. Much better than crying.
I didn't want to dwell on what might be. I still wanted to enjoy my time with a great guy.
“I'm delicate and adorable.” He smiled and took a bite.
“I'm sure that's what they think when you knock them unconscious.”
We bantered a little bit more back and forth while eating. It was a really good sandwich. But by the time I was done eating I had the mental capacity enough to finally say what was on my mind.
“I wasn't expecting that at all. I don't know if I should say sorry for you having hear that or–”
“Don't you dare say sorry.” He turned around from the sink and shot me a look.
“OK. Um, yeah, so I've been dealing with some feminine stuff and not in a million years did I think I would have to be cut open. Fuck.”
“You'll be OK, right? She said these are pretty common and most likely not cancer. That is what I'm thinking of right now.” Sasha tossed the dish towel to the counter and sat next to me.
“Right. I'm just thinking about later, with us you know? The possibility of pain.” My eyes wandered off. I was talking about sex and I was hoping he got the hint.
“Oh, sex is off the table. Nope, not happening.” His head shook and shook and shook.
Dammit! I screamed internally. Way to get cock blocked by my own body. And after such an orgasm just from his mouth. I was devastated. I saw his proverbial hockey stick and I was looking for it to score me the best goal of my life.
“This fucking blows.” I put my head in my hands.
“Could you imagine if we tried it without knowing and I hurt you? I would never be able to get hard again.” He rubbed his chest again, but then his hand started to massage my arm. “Oh, do you want a shirt? Are you cold?”
“No, I'm freaking sweating. My body is panicking but I'm OK mentally. But I will need to borrow something for the game. I didn't bring extra shirt because–”
“You aren't going to stay?” He looked like a sad puppy.
“I didn't bring an extra shirt because I planned on being naked all night. But that got ruined. Gosh, do you still want me to stay now that we can't do that?” The realization of how new our relationship was hit me hard.
“Of course!” He jumped up. “We can order food and watch movies and cuddle naked on the couch. Come on, I want to see you in my clothes.”
“You sure, Sarge?”
In a moment I felt awkward. Maybe it was because I could understand sex with Sasha.
Our chemistry was off the charts. But now?
I was nervous. Would I be enough with my foul mouth and worse temper, smelling of saw dust, with a penchant for doing what I wanted, not was expected of me and now with a body that wasn't accessible for a man with human needs?
I was spiraling, quickly.
“Hey.” Sasha found me in my own darkness, his touch pulling me back.
“I'm sure. Would I have loved to do wild and crazy things with your body tonight? Yes. Am I just as excited to see you in my sweater cheering me on in the stands? Yes.” He kissed the side of my cheek, wiping away the moisture that had collected.
I let my mind quiet down with his words. My heart was still thundering against my ribs. But dwelling right now would do nothing to rectify the situation.
A smile started to tug at my cheeks with how soft and warm his body was against me as he held me so tightly.
“Ok. Let's see what shirt of yours I can stretch out.” I smiled up at him.
“You got it.” Another kiss and Sasha led me into his bedroom with his smile tugging on my heart.