Chapter Sixteen #2
“–And second of all, if I did knit my own sweaters, that’d be bad ass and you’d be begging me for one.”
“I’d be the one begging?”
“Mmhmm.”
“You’re stupid,” she says, but the way she says it feels like she’s saying you’re right, but I wouldn’t be the one begging, in a way that has nothing at all to do with sweaters.
Before I forget, I tap the button to turn the camera around and show her my hotel room from where I’m sitting in the bed.
Liam throws a pillow at my head when I point the camera at him and flips me off before removing one ear from his headphones and letting out an apathetic, “Hey Kenny.” I flip the camera back on me, then I prop my phone up against the screen of the laptop I have resting over my thighs.
“You ready?”
I connect my headphones, feeling weirdly protective over anything Kennedy says, wishing Liam wasn’t able to hear any part of our previous conversation, then hit start on my quiz.
We take our quizzes together, helping each other with the questions, flipping and reading through our notes out loud.
We both get a 100% meaning that next week’s midterm should be easy peasy.
It’ll be online too and if we take it together in a study room, I don’t think I could get less than an A on it.
From the screen, I watch her as she turns off all the lights in her apartment, double checks that the doors are locked, and hops into her bed under her covers. She leaves the bathroom light on, illuminating her apartment just enough that I can still see her face.
“I should probably let you get some sleep for your game tomorrow.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Good luck tomorrow,” she whispers.
“Will you be watching me play?”
Pink creeps over her cheeks, and she looks down, the low light casting shadows over the high points of her face, “Yeah, I’ll be watching you.”
“Good, and then I want,” I remember with visceral clarity that I am, in fact, not alone and sharing a room with Liam. I glance in his direction and then back to the screen. “Good,” I say, swallowing up what I was originally going to say about how I want to watch her come for me again.
We hang up and I head into the bathroom, closing the door behind me and turning on the shower so I can work my aching dick in semi-peace.
In the shower I stroke myself while thinking about Kennedy on top of me, how her hands felt wrapped around me, her soft moans, and her pert tits begging to be sucked and played with.
This time, though, I imagine her moving her hips over my cock instead of my fingers.
I think about how she’d work herself down my length, taking me slowly.
In my fantasy, she doesn’t even take my whole dick before I come, pleasure zipping up my spine with a quickness and releasing across the shower tile.
I spend the rest of the night and most of the next day thinking about her and us in various settings.
Some clothed, a lot not. She texts me a picture of her watching the live stream of the game during our warm ups and I feel…
light? Nervous? Whatever the feeling is, it makes me want to whip my jersey off and flex in the camera like the fucking neanderthal I become around her.
I know I’m going to play well before the game even starts. Sometimes I can just feel it.
We’re facing Colorado College and it's not that they’re bad, but they aren’t Bramwood that’s for sure. It’s almost mean how quickly I’m able to crowd their goalie, defense nowhere to be found. It’s not even fair how open CC has left their goalie. It’s practically a free shot.
I know it’s going in before I see it. I can feel it as I take my shot, the way the puck feels disconnecting with my stick, the angle and power. It all just feels right.
When the horn sounds, I turn, finding the camera I spotted earlier during warm-ups and blow a very obnoxious and over the top kiss.
I usually mess around when it comes to scoring goals, and while I’ve never blown the camera a kiss before, I don’t think anyone in my family will actually think anything of it.
Coach rotates me in and out several more times before I’m able to crowd their goalie again.
After my first goal, they started playing a different kind of defense.
But when I see my opening, I skate, pushing my body as hard and fast as I can, weaving around bodies.
My knee is screaming at me, but I don’t care, I feel it, It’s going in.
I’m already skating backwards, winking at the camera when I hear the sound of the goal horn.
I discreetly check my phone while in the locker room between second and third period. I have about a hundred missed text messages from our mega family group chat. I also have one missed text from Kennedy to me directly.
Kennedy: You're amazing
The time stamp on that one makes me think it was after I scored the first goal. A warmth spreads over my chest as I imagine her watching me, cheering for me. There’s no way we’re not going to win tonight’s game. As I’m looking down, another text comes in:
Kennedy: When do you get back tomorrow, I think we might need to do some celebrating.
An excitement moves through me, making me feel invincible. I click my phone shut and shove it back into my locker before Coach can see me checking it. But I know all I’m going to be thinking about for the rest of the game is what kind of celebrating we might be doing.
I start the thrid period on the ice, but I know almost immediately I’m done for the rest of the game. I feel slow and every second I’m standing upright, my knee is hurting worse. I don’t put up a fight when I get rotated out and never put back in.
Instead, I unbuckle my helmet and flex my leg forward and back, trying to keep it from getting too stiff to walk out of here without getting my ass chewed out.
Luckily, Logan scores a goal, and Coach seems to forget about anything except our winning.
After the game I let the team doctor take a look at my knee and retape and rewrap it for me. I’ve started using my old knee brace after games and practices again. It’s been helping, I think.
With my knee properly wrapped, I shove my phone in my pocket and limp out of the locker room.
, trying my best to walk normally. My knee, however, has different plans.
It isn’t doing well by the time I make it back to my hotel.
I pushed way too hard earlier today knowing Kennedy was watching.
With both hands behind me, I lean most of my weight on the elevator wall, trying to alleviate some of the throbbing happening.
In my room, I take three Tylenols and prop my leg up over a pillow with a heating pad wrapped around it.
It’s strange that Liam isn’t out celebrating tonight.
I know most of the team is planning on going out.
I don’t ask him though because I don’t want to have to explain to him that I’m not going out because the idea of standing for even one more minute might bring an actual tear to my eye.
So we both scroll on our phones with the TV on in the background.
Then, Liam’s phone rings and he mumbles something before bolting into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him. Weird.
I take advantage of him not being in the room with me, and video call Kennedy.
I tell her all about my game and she shows me the dress she’s going to wear to the gala next month.
It was hard to tell what exactly it looks like because she didn’t try it on, but I know she’ll look sexy.
We talk for another hour, during which I convince her to pick me up tomorrow from the bus so we can celebrate my win together at her place.
She agrees almost immediately, causing my cock to harden at just the thought of all the celebrating we could come up.
We talk for another ten minutes about her LSAT on Monday before Liam walks back in the room, and I fall asleep smiling.