Chapter 35
thirty-five
. . .
Ceci
I thought I liked hockey. I’ve always considered myself a fan. It doesn’t matter what sport it is; I love them all equally.
Turns out, watching my boyfriend play hockey is hot as hell. I’m totally here for this.
Aidan is on the bench while the fourth line plays a bruising game. My eyes immediately seek him out, the gold C on his jersey making it easy. Matching the one on my chest.
He gave me his jersey. A real, official, game-worn jersey from the Winter Classic two seasons ago. Not a fan replica. My inner sports nut is dying.
The other wives and partners have welcomed me with open arms. They’ve always let me hang out with them, but it’s different now. I’m one of them. We’re all wearing our man’s name and number, and I finally fit in—at least on paper.
I still can’t believe Aidan and I are officially together, a couple, a unit, and not simply two singular people revolving around each other like planets orbiting but never colliding.
Before our first attempt at a setup at the gala, I knew him vaguely as Hailey’s brother. Then he became captain, and I became aware of him, but I never had the opportunity to know him. And then he turned into Wish.
Now he’s Aidan. My boyfriend. How the hell did that happen?
Hailey sits beside me, clutching the armrest as Ryan and his D-partner Sinclair take the ice.
She gets so into the game, leaning forward when something exciting happens, tilting to the side when they pass, sitting back with bated breath when they take a shot on goal.
She’s so expressive, it’s almost as much fun to watch her as the game itself.
Farther down the row, Bex and Vanessa huddle together, giggling quietly.
Audrey, Rachel, Mel Easton, and Riley Gonzales are all child-free for the night, all their kids having a sleepover with the nannies.
Bex already informed me, in no uncertain terms, that Aidan and I will be joining the guys at the bar.
“I know your dude is kind of a recluse,” she said, “but tonight we need to celebrate you two getting together.”
I’d rolled my eyes, but I was secretly glad for their easy acceptance. Even if it means I now have the monumental feat of convincing Aidan to go out.
Usually, when my friends go down to greet their men after the game, I slip out and head home. Tonight, I get to go with them. The security badge Aidan gave me grants me access to the behind-the-scenes areas leading to the family lounge, where we wait while the players shower and change.
Nick is the first one through the door. His entire face lights up when he sees Bex, and her heart eyes stare back at him.
Gonzo is next through, beelining for his wife and pulling her into his arms. He tilts her back, kissing her like an old Hollywood movie. A few of the women swoon, and I grin to myself.
Sven and Easton, Aidan’s linemates, walk in together, conversing quietly. They split apart as they reach Vanessa and Mel.
Jake and Seb laugh while jostling each other. Seb gets his goaltender partner into a headlock, giving him a noogie.
“Sebastian,” Audrey barks, and he immediately releases his teammate.
“Baby,” Seb whines. “You can’t use that voice in public. You know what it does to me.”
Jake shoves him away. “Do that far away from me.”
A few other players stalk into the room, greeting their partners in increasingly dramatic fashion.
And then all the air in the room seems to evaporate. All my attention narrows in on the man walking over the threshold, the beautiful redhead in a tailored blue suit.
Aidan’s face is ruddy and flushed, his hair wet from his shower. He’s talking to Ryan, but the second our eyes lock, he stops in his tracks.
His jaw drops. Heat floods his eyes.
And then he stalks across the room to me. His hand lifts to grasp my neck, curling around to cup my nape. He pulls me toward him, and I sway against his big, strong body.
The tip of his nose brushes against mine, a brief hello, before he kisses me. His kiss sears my very soul, ruining me for all eternity.
I am dead. Deceased. Floating away on a cloud of bliss.
His teammates erupt into cheers and whistles, and even though my face heats, I can’t be ashamed of this. Of us.
“Missed you,” he murmurs, before he kisses me again.
When we separate, he takes me by the hand. In a fog, I let him lead me to his car. I’m vaguely aware of Ryan and Hailey following us, their conversation inaudible.
It hits me, as the four of us drive to the bar, that this is it. His sister and her soon-to-be husband are going to be part of my life, whether I like it or not. It’s a good thing I like them; it’s a good thing we’re already friends.
Having breakfast with them this morning was comfortable. They made me feel like I was part of their group from the very beginning. Even though Wish and I are new, they accepted me with arms wide open.
How much of that has to do with wanting Aidan to find someone, versus me specifically, I’m not sure. I don’t think it matters. They approve of us together; that’s what’s important.
At the bar, Aidan rounds the car to open my door, and he takes my hand again, like he can’t bear to be apart from me. I feel exactly the same.
I’ve been here a few times with Bex and Nick, and we always hang out in the VIP section at the back.
It’s a low-key vibe, comfortable and casual.
There’s a section for dancing, and I’ve dragged Bex and Vanessa out onto the dance floor before, but most of the time, the group chills and hangs out in a place where they don’t have to be gawked at and gossiped about.
Most of the team has come out. All of my friends, plus the other couples I don’t know well. And, of course, the single guys too: Sinclair, Jenkins, Schwartz, Reynolds, and others I can’t recognize without their jerseys on.
When the waitress comes by, I order an amaretto sour, and Aidan gets a sparkling water with a splash of cranberry.
“Does it bother you if I drink?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t drink during the season, really. It impacts my performance too much.”
My face heats. “You have nothing to worry about in that regard.”
We still haven’t managed penetrative sex—haven’t even tried it since that first time—but I have absolutely no complaints on the bedroom front.
He chuckles, the sound rumbly and warm. “Not that kind of performance.”
“I mean on the ice.” I poke him in the ribs, and he twitches, then wraps his arm more securely around me. “You’re leading the team in points, aren’t you?”
Sure, the team isn’t doing so well as a whole, but he’s a superstar.
He simply happens to be a superstar on a mediocre team.
It’s tough to sit back and watch as the team I’ve loved and supported for the last twenty-five years takes a tumble in the standings year after year after year, but holy fuck, it’s got to turn around sometime. Right?
I think it’s even more frustrating that, occasionally, we do see flashes of brilliance, a short winning streak and well-played third-period hockey, and then it’s snuffed all too quickly.
The team can’t sustain its success, and even from watching from a distance, I can tell it’s almost entirely mental.
It’s not the coaching staff. It’s not the camaraderie.
They are physically capable. They just can’t put it all together.
Relatable. I’m a hot mess express most of the time too.
“I think so,” he mutters.
The bashful flush that floods his face makes me giddy, and I can’t resist kissing his pink cheek.
“You are, and you know it.” I curl into the warmth of his embrace, indulging in his easy affection. “Just accept it. You’re the best.”
Behind me, some of the guys are laughing.
“Yeah, he is,” Gonzo cheers. “Mr. Goal Scorer over here.”
Aidan’s blush deepens. “Fuck off.”
I grin at him. “Me too? You want me to fuck off?” I start to rise from my seat, and he tugs me back onto the chair.
“You be quiet.” He kisses me, short and quick, then lowers his voice. “The praise makes me uncomfortable.”
“We’ll have to fix that.”
“There’s nothing to fix.”
I thread my hand through his hair. “I like praising you. I want to make you feel good.”
He leans into my touch. “You do make me feel good,” he murmurs. “It’s just hard to hear.”
“Better get used to it.”
He hooks his ankle around the leg of my chair, pulling me closer. “I look forward to it.”
The simple press of his lips to mine lights me up inside like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Sudden. Intense. Awe-inspiring.
And when his smile kisses mine, I can taste his happiness. The lightness inside me meets the contentment radiating off him.
“All right, all right, that’s enough,” Hailey says with a grin. “I don’t need to see that.”
“Close your eyes, then,” her brother retorts. But he eases back, slinging his arm around my shoulder and curling me into his side.
“You’re happy, Cap?” Sinclair asks.
“Yeah,” Aidan says without hesitation. “I am.” He kisses my temple.
Most of the time, he heads straight home after his game, and we play for hours. It’s a rare occasion for him to go out with the guys, and even more unusual for him to go out at home. At his core, he’s an introvert. A homebody.
I like being at home, yes, but I also love to be around people.
It’s a bit of a relief that we don’t have to lock ourselves up in his house, that we are able to socialize as a couple with other people.
I know there will be plenty of games where he wants to head straight home, but as long as he can make the effort when it really counts, the rest of it isn’t important.
His teammates are fun to be around; I enjoy spending time with the wives and partners, and they seem to like me. It helps that I’ve already been hanging out with most of them at book club for years.
As the night goes on, Aidan grows quiet as the conversation swirls around us. He’s holding himself back more and more. His body is coiled tight with tension, a muscle twitches in his jaw, and his eyes are unfocused, like he’s standing in the middle of a maelstrom and letting it pass him by.
I want to drag him into the conversation, to make him feel like part of the crowd, but he doesn’t seem to want that, and I don’t want to push him. For whatever reason, he’s not comfortable with this. Whether it’s his teammates or their partners or the crowd or me, he’s not his usual self.
He says he’s fine, but I can see it on his face; he’s not having a good time, which is all I wanted for him. Tomorrow night, we’ll stay in and game. Spend some quality time together without all these people crowding us. Maybe that will cheer him up a little.
After a few hours, Hailey yawns, and I’m ready to head home myself. There’s no question of where I’ll be sleeping tonight. I haven’t been home for much more than a shower and change since our date, and until he kicks me out, I have no intention of returning to my empty, depressing house.
Aidan drives the four of us home, and as the elevator reaches the tenth floor, we say good night to Hailey and Ryan. My boyfriend’s hand tightens on mine as the doors slide shut, and then we’re finally, finally alone.
“You doing okay?” he asks as we take the short ride up two more floors. “Not backing out?”
“Not anytime soon.”
He scowls. “You say that now…”
Before I can wonder what that means, we reach his floor, and he tugs me out of the elevator.
Inside his apartment, we toe off our shoes and hang up our coats before heading for his bedroom. Aidan strips off his suit jacket, laying it on the dresser.
“We should talk.”
My heart skitters to a stop. “What’s wrong?”