Chapter 14
AGE SEVENTEEN
I hear her car before I can even see it.
Avery insisted on taking me somewhere tonight to watch game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals and she was very adamant about driving.
Her car is minutes away from breaking down, the puttering of her engine just another sign that it’s barely hanging on for dear life.
She pulls up next to the curb where I’m standing outside of my dorm and her brakes squeak before she puts it in park. When I open the door it creaks loudly. I dip my head low. “Are you sure I can’t drive?”
Avery rolls her eyes and proceeds to ignore me.
I bend my nearly six-foot-five frame awkwardly and climb into the passenger seat.
Reaching underneath, it takes me throwing my entire body weight into the back of the seat before it budges and slides backward, allowing more, albeit minimal, space for my long legs.
“This thing is a death trap.” I’ve said it a million times before so I’m not sure why I say it again. I’m hoping maybe one of these days she’ll listen to me. I should know better by now.
She leans over the center console and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t talk about The Teal Deal like that, you’ll hurt her feelings.” She rubs her hand over the dashboard, as if she’s consoling this clunker of a car.
Avery turns to put the car in drive, but I grab the back of her head and bring her mouth to mine. Our tongues collide and dance together until we both pull away at the same time, panting. Almost a year of dating, and kissing her like this still takes my breath away.
We’ve yet to take the final step and have sex.
We’re both perfectly content doing…other things.
The idiots on my team are asking me what’s taking us so long, as if it’s any of their fucking business.
Avery and I are both virgins, and although we’ve already said, “I love you,” we both aren’t quite ready to go there yet.
If I have my way, I’ll have a lifetime with the girl sitting next to me, so what’s the rush?
She finally puts the car in drive, and I hold onto the oh, shit bar above the door like my life depends on it. Because it does. I’m scared for my life every time I get into this tin box.
It takes us about a half hour but we miraculously make it to our destination safely, which is in the middle of nowhere.
Tucked behind a wall of trees sits a log cabin style restaurant.
There’s a covered outdoor dining area with TVs hanging throughout and lawn games surrounding the entire space.
Outdoor lights illuminate the area, solidifying the laid back atmosphere.
We both exit her car, and I wait for her to round the hood before taking her hand with mine. I keep her hand where it is even after we take our seats at one of the tables outside that’s facing the biggest TV.
The game starts soon after we get our food.
There’s music playing out here and I wish they’d turn it off so we could hear the TV.
Looking around, I notice that only half the patrons are actually watching the game.
The others are chatting happily or playing cornhole, some singing along to the pop song that blares from the speakers.
“I wish we could hear the game. The announcers always amplify the excitement for me,” I say through a mouthful of hamburger.
Avery pops another fry in her mouth before wiping her hands clean with her napkin. She rubs them together and gives me a conspicuous look. I know what’s about to happen before she even starts. Crossing my arms, I wait for the show.
She grabs a spoon from the table and holds it just below her mouth.
“Whittaker fires the puck down the ice to a waiting Brody Miller. Miller takes off into New York’s zone.
Man, this kid can really fly. He pulls the puck back, and oh my gosh, did you see that toe drag?
He’s in all alone on Roberts. He shoots.
He SCORES! What an absolute beauty! Atlanta takes an early 1–0 lead.
They have only lost two games during the playoffs this year after taking an early first period lead.
We’ll see if New York can come back and make it three losses. ”
I stare at her in awe. Avery has this air about her when she commentates games. She’s quick on her feet and pulls random stats out of nowhere on the fly. It’s pretty damn impressive. If she doesn’t make a career out of playing, she could definitely make one out of commentating.
Avery sets her spoon down on the table. I scoot my chair back and stand, clapping my hands loudly. She pulls my arm, causing me to sit back in my seat.
“Stop that!” she says, while swatting me in the bicep.
“Why? That was incredible. You deserve a standing ovation.” I go to stand again, but Avery has launched herself into my lap before I can get to my feet. She wraps her arms around my neck and smirks.
“You sure you want to stand up and cheer again? I have a better idea.” Her lips graze mine. I’m about to lean in to deepen the kiss when she pulls back. “Promise you won’t do that again.”
I nip at her bottom lip. “I can’t make that promise, Aves. You’re too good at it.”
She removes herself from my lap, and I immediately miss the feel of her on top of me. Adjusting myself in my pants, I scoot my chair back in.
“Seriously, baby. Whenever you decide to retire from playing, you should totally become a play-by-play announcer.”
Avery takes a sip of her water, shaking her head as she sets her glass back down on the table. “As amazing as that sounds, the NHL doesn’t hire women for that. They barely hire women at all.”
I hate that she’s right, and hope more than anything that one day that won’t be the case.
“Well, if anyone could break barriers and become the first, it’s you.”
A tinge of pink creeps up her cheeks. I wish she was better at taking compliments but damn if I don’t love that color. I reach over and squeeze her knee. “I’m serious.”
She looks up at me, those green eyes of hers looking into mine.
“I love you, you know that?”
I give her knee one more squeeze. “I know. I love you, too. Bigger than the sky.”
“Brighter than the stars.”