Chapter 20 Tate
“Damn, Daddy Bridges! You’re having a hell of a game tonight.” Quade calls out across the locker room.
“Hell yeah! Texas does it different.” Fitz grins.
I get head nods and a few slaps on the back as everyone makes their way to rest and go through their routines before the third period. I don’t comment because I don’t want to jinx the third period.
“I saw Alli in the crowd tonight. Close to the ice.” Ronan says calmly while he unlaces and re-laces his skates, adjusting the tiny cherry charm he keeps tucked in on it.
“Me too.” I smile “Did you see Matty and Hudson too?”
“Yes, and you’re taking my spot as Coolest Hockey Player with those dedications.”
I huff a laugh.
His expression sobers. “You know, Alli isn’t my big sister by blood. Hardly even a foster sister.”
“Oh yea? Six months seemed to solidify it for her.” I say carefully. I chug from my Gatorade and set it to the side. I match his stance, leaning my elbows onto my knees and turning my head to meet his gaze.
“Yeah. She took pity on me, orphan to orphan. Alli has a heart of pure gold. And she’s a damn good mother.
So, man to man. Don’t let her down. I don’t know what specifically is going on between you two— and I don’t need to.
” He says, eyes flicking between mine. Looking for something.
“I think you could be really good for them.”
“I think we could be really good together.” I say simply. “But she’s not ready for it yet.”
Letting him fill in any blanks on his own. Like hell am I going to tell her little brother she wants to be… friends with benefits? Neighbours who fuck and also sometimes babysit each others kids? I don’t even know exactly what to call it right now anyways.
“Give it time. She didn’t like me at first either. I had to burn down the kitchen trying to bake her a cake before she did.”
“Did that really work for you though?” I squint, pretending to consider that.
“I’d say so. She did it right back, fire and everything. Went right back to the group home with me. All worked out for her though. A somewhat nice foster family came along pretty quick.”
I’m retaping my stick with the familiar off-white roll.
The one from a bulk box of tape Dad got me, just like he has every year.
I was embarrassed that he got me an off-white color.
I didn’t think it looked as good. Threw a big fit about it not being right.
No one else was really paying attention but at that age everything seems like it’s big and important.
He told me it was lucky tape. Swore Gretsky used the same kind.
He didn’t. But it’s still been lucky since that very first box helped me win a tournament.
Some would probably say it’s silly. I just don’t know what I’m going to do at the end of the season when the tape inevitably runs out. I wrap it just so and test the grip. Someone to my right lets out a huff. I ignore it.
“What’s up with the dingy tape?” I see someone’s arm reach behind me to my locker.
“Don’t touch my shit.”
“Hey, I’m just looking. It’s just tape. It’s like toilet paper— communal.” TJ smarts with his hands up in surrender- the off-white tape in his left hand.
“TJ.” I warn. I’ve been having a good game but he’s getting his shitty ju-ju all over my shit. No one touches my stick— No one touches my tape. I’m standing now, trying like hell not to act irrationally.
“Mind if I use some?” He asks slyly. His fingers peel the edge up. I lose it. I’m past warning.
I snatch the front of his jersey hauling him to me—nose to nose. Caught off guard, his face turns a ghostly white and he sputters.
“Bridges. Come on, we have a game to win. We don’t need you benched.” Ronan says calmly, hand on the front of my jersey. He gives a push, not hard enough to move me.
I snatch the tape out of TJs hand and shove him away. Turning my back to him, showing him he’s not a threat in my mind, I carefully placed the tape back in its place in my locker. Right next to Matty’s drawing of us playing hockey together.
Coach Randall comes in, eyes lingering in my direction for a beat, before giving us his quick speech and getting everyone riled up for the final period.
Back on the ice, tension is high. We start out a point up, but it’s not long before the winger for the Hawks sweeps the puck out from Ripley scores on a slap shot.
Ronan's head hangs, just for a beat. Then he refocused on the puck in play. I quickly hop over the boards on the line change.
My focus takes over on the ice as I keep the players away from our goal. I’ve scored two out of the three points on the board. It’s not really the defenseman’s job but I can’t help but feel hopeful for a chance at another.
A hat trick would be not only a game highlight but also a career highlight for any player let alone a defenseman.
Just as I’m thinking of Alli’s plump lips parting into a perfect little ‘o’ of surprise when I dedicate it to her, the opportunity arises. I’m able to get a turnover on the puck behind our blue line, resulting in an odd man rush on our part.
Just as I’m winding up for the shot, TJ stops directly in my line of fire. I make it a pass over to our winger at the last second, who thankfully scored our fourth goal.
I try like hell to keep my head up and my temper down. The fucker just cost me a hat trick. I had it. Right there.
I slap my stick on the ice. To anyone else, it probably looks like enthusiasm for the goal.
Son of a bitch.
We won the game. I tell myself that’s what matters. That I got to dedicate a goal to both the boys here to watch me.
I’m stripping off my gear in the locker room as the celebration is immediately underway.
I know that Todd, our rink side reporter, and a few from the PR team are waiting to get some post-game interviews.
Ronan and Quade are doing some viral TikTok dance videos on a livestream; I expertly evade that shit. I sidestep them but, in the process, Fitz gets pushed into it.
They should really move that away from the shower entrance.
Knowing Ronan, that was likely intentional for views. The man has no shame.
I don’t linger. I rush through a shower, burning my eye with soap.
I comb my hair on the way back to my locker and a few strands fall into my face.
I’m throwing my suit back on, as it’s required before and after games.
I nearly get myself caught in my zipper.
There’s no emergency other than my eagerness to get to Alli and the boys, which rules my movement.
I throw the door to the locker room open, nearly running a few people over in the process.
A flash of gold in my peripheral has me doing a double take. There. My pulse rises even as I calm. I stride towards her. She’s leaned against the wall, feet crossed and head angled down at her phone. I don’t see Hudson or Matty when I do a quick scan around.
Her eyes widen for a moment when she looks up. Then they do a slow sweep down to my feet and back up. She pushes herself off the wall and brushes her hair away from her face. Her hands twist in front of her as I approach.
“Emalyn’s taking Hudson back to the house to meet up with your mom, sister and Matty. They all went ahead.”
I check my phone and see the text from Mom. “Apparently, Ronan coordinated some catering and is having a mini afterparty at your house.” She smiles and shrugs at that.
“Of course he did.” I roll my eyes. Then freeze. “Wait… does that mean that we are completely kid free right now?”
She bites her lip and nods.
My eyes snag on the movement. I almost take it from her teeth with my thumb, but then I remember where we are.
We work together and there are several of our colleagues around. Still, I step closer to her. Her chest rises quickly, as her head tilts back to look up at me.
“Where do you want me, Allison?” I dip my head closer, just slightly. Her eyes flare with heat. “Please tell me I can have you. Here? Where anyone can catch us? Or somewhere more private? Safer?”
Her weight shifts and she tries to subtly squeeze her thighs together. A smirk tugs at my lips. I remember the look in her eyes when I said I’d do whatever she asked, that very first day.
“It’s your choice, Alli. I meant what I said before. Whatever you tell me, I’ll give it to you.” I whisper near her ear. Her breath catches, and her hand falls to the lapel of my suit jacket. The smell of her sweet perfume and fresh shampoo covers the arena hallway scent.
I take a deep breath, trying to tamp down the erection threatening my suit pants.
Her fingers curl around mine and suddenly she’s pulling me through the hallway, taking odd turns leading away from the rink until we are in a vacant office area. She pushes open the door and drags me in with her.
I step into what seems to be an office supply closet.
Glancing around I notice there’s organized shelves of boxes, a desk with a printer and a copy machine to the side.
She turns her back to me to turn the lock.
I nearly drop to my knees then and there when I see my name in bold letters on her back.
“Fuck, Alli. You’re killing me.” I’m on her before she can even turn around. Brushing her hair off her neck with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist, I haul her back to my chest.
“Oh, Tate… That feels...” She breathes. Her hand reaches up and tangles in my hair as I lay open mouth kisses to her neck.
Because of our height difference, standing really isn’t the way to go for us. I drop to my knees behind her. Her breath hitches.
“W-What are you...”
“Hands on the wall, Alli baby. Let me take care of you.” I say, my voice dropping an octave lower, thickened by lust and pure need to be closer to her.
She hesitates.
“We can stop anytime you want to. Okay?” I wait there on my knees, hands on her hips. She nods, looking down at me over her shoulder. I shake my head slowly, never looking away. “Use your words, baby.”