Chapter 37
Ash
I’m distracted the next day when I get on the plane to Florida for so many reasons, not the least of which is that it will be my first time playing my old team. They know me, and more importantly, they know my weaknesses. To say I’m worried is an understatement.
More than that, I’m worried about Gray. I slept at her place last night after she called me, panicked, to say her shade was open again and that she thought she was being followed at the grocery store.
The grocery store was definitely my guy. He called to tell me Gray spotted him and that he’d needed to break off surveillance, so I had him switch places with the woman watching Drew.
I still have someone watching Gray’s house when she isn’t home as well, and that guy swore he didn’t see anyone around her property, so the shade is still a mystery. I suggested to Gray, and half to myself, that maybe the shade was broken now and that it keeps creeping up on its own.
She seemed to buy that explanation about as much as I myself did, and I searched the house casually for more notes or ‘gifts’ while I was there. Whoever broke in before didn’t leave any more rose petals anywhere, though.
Gray regaled me last night with the story of how she attempted to catch someone tailing her home from the grocery store by watching for cars behind her, then getting off and back on the highway.
A small part of me was amused by her 007 efforts, but a larger part felt guilty at contributing to her anxiety and paranoia.
When I get back from this road trip, I need to tell her about the security team I have following her. It’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to, since I expect her to be angry, and she’ll inevitably want to know why I had the team following her in the first place.
The whole situation makes me mad. Mad there’s some sicko out there stalking my woman and scaring her.
Mad I have to get on this plane and travel halfway around the country when I should be taking care of her.
Mad that having to worry about Gray is distracting me from a game I love so I can’t play my best.
I work myself into a frenzy as I head down the aisle of the plane, all the tension I relieved by having morning sex with Gray now gone.
We went to bed last night without doing anything, but I woke this morning to her stroking my cock.
She apologized when I asked what she was doing, and she said something about getting my consent first next time.
I told her she always had my consent to grab my cock, and I let her stroke me a little longer until I couldn’t stand it.
Then I pulled her over and let her ride me until we both came hard.
The memory almost calms me until I jerk to a halt in the middle of the aisle and look down to find Kingston’s hand once again wrapped around my forearm. He opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t give him the chance.
“I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Kingston,” I say, yanking my arm out of his grip. “Keep your fucking comments to yourself.”
I start to head down the aisle again but stop and look back at him. His mouth hangs open, and I’m sure no one has dared to talk to him like that in the recent past.
“And another thing,” I say, “Celena isn’t interested in you, so just back off and leave her the fuck alone.”
I turn and stalk down the aisle, only vaguely aware the plane has gone dead-silent as everyone has stopped what they’re doing. They’re waiting to see what Kingston will do, but I don’t give a shit. I shove my carryon into the overhead compartment and thump into the window seat.
Kelsier makes it to the row about half a minute later and waits for me to look up at him.
“You okay there, Gunny?” he asks, wary amusement on his face.
“Not one God damn word,” I tell him.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Not a word,” he says. “I mean, Kingston will probably beat the shit out of you later, but at least for now you have him too shocked to do anything.”
I look up over the seats and see the top of Kingston’s head several rows ahead of me, the band for his headphones in place over his black hair. He won’t confront me now, but Kelsier’s right. I’m probably in for it after our game.
Kelsier stows his bag and sits down next to me. He starts to put his seatbelt on but then frowns and inhales deeply through his nose. “Do you smell like…lavender?”
I sniff my shoulder, and Gray’s scent fills my head. Lavender is a soothing scent to begin with, but instinctively I know the sudden calming effect I feel has more to do with Gray herself than aromatherapy.
“It’s Gray’s bodywash,” I say. “I spent last night at her place and forgot to bring my own stuff to shower, so I had to use hers.”
He sighs. “I might have to find a new seatmate until this thing between the two of you blows over.”
I resist the urge to glare at him. Just the suggestion that things with Gray might end someday has my bad mood returning.
“So what’s got you all riled up today?” Kelsier asks. “Nervous about playing Tampa Bay?”
We were supposed to play them back in December, but a freak blizzard canceled the game, and the makeup day was tacked on to the end of the season. The delay only kicked up my anxiety, though. It was as if the universe was telling me I wasn’t ready to face them yet.
I shrug. “A little,” I lie. “I’m more worried about Gray.”
“Uh oh,” he says. “Things going south between you two already?”
I wave a dismissive hand. “Nothing like that. Some shit went down at her place a little while ago, and…I may have done something unwise to try and fix it.”
He narrows his eyes. “How unwise?”
I’m not sure why I never told Kelsier any of this.
I told Cedric about the break-in just in case it became a PR thing, but the press never got wind of the police presence at Gray’s that night.
As for Kelsier, I guess I knew he’d have something to say about my decision to have Gray secretly watched, so I kept it to myself for the time being.
I sigh and tell him everything now, how someone broke into Gray’s house and left rose petals on her bed, and how she doesn’t know that and still thinks her mother was the only one there that day.
I confess to hiring the private security, and I explain about Gray seeing the guy yesterday, then coming home to find her shade open again.
When I’m done, Kelsier stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. He’s not wrong, but…
“Someone was in her house?” he asks. “And you didn’t tell her?”
“Kels, you should have seen how freaked out she was just by the window and the wine,” I tell him. “She would’ve lost her shit if she’d seen her bed covered in rose petals. I nearly lost my own shit when I saw it.”
“Yeah, that’s creepy as fuck,” he admits, “but you better hope she never finds out or you’re in deep trouble. Women don’t appreciate things being kept from them, even when you’re trying to protect them.”
“I hope the security guys catch this sick fuck soon,” I say.
“And she doesn’t know about the security either?”
I shake my head.
“You are so fucked if she finds out.”
“I’m planning to tell her when I get back,” I say. “About the security at least. I want to avoid telling her about the rose petals.”
He shakes his head. “I hope the last sex you had was good, because I don’t think you’re getting any more for a while.”
His words bring up the memory of Gray’s full breasts bobbing up and down as she bounced on my cock this morning, and I groan.
Once a night with her is never enough, and the nights I don’t get to have her at all are hell.
The thought of her denying me sex indefinitely or even breaking up with me over this sends a chill through me.
“Yeah, well, that’s a problem for Future Me,” I tell him.
He angles his head. “I’m really surprised Future You hasn’t kicked the shit out of Past You yet.”
I shrug. “Future Me is usually too busy cleaning up Past Me’s fuck ups to have time for that.
It’s a careful balance. As long as Past Me doesn’t do anything to get Future Me arrested or fuck up his hockey career, it’s generally a live-and-let-live situation.
” Then I add, “Plus Past Me and Future Me are never in the same place at the same time.”
Kelsier shakes his head. “As long as you know what the hell you’re doing, carry on, man.”
That’s the problem. I knew exactly what I was doing until I met Gray. Now I don’t know which way is up.
Ash
It’s a funny thing about anger. It’s not always a bad emotion.
I took a course on Human Emotion as an elective back in college when I was working on my Kinesiology degree, and I learned that when a person gets angry, the body releases adrenaline, which is part of its fight-or-flight response.
The adrenaline helps prepare the body for physical action, to key it up – either to fight or to run.
Certain systems kick into gear to increase heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing, as well as to tense muscles in preparation for movement.
In small doses, then, anger can be a good thing in sports. I learned that for some athletes, anger gives them hyper-focus, and they’re able to channel their physical responses into a heightened ability to play.
The issue is that there’s a threshold at which too much anger becomes a liability. Pushing your heart rate, blood pressure, or breathing too high can lead to shakiness or dizziness. If that happens, fine motor control and mental focus break down, and athletic performance can suffer.
When guys chirp at me, that’s what happens. Apparently my shame-induced anger sends my body straight past the stage of useful anger and right into the ‘Jesus Christ, does he even know how to play hockey?’ stage.
Interestingly, the anger I’ve been storing up for my old team and for Gray’s stalker seems to be just the right amount to keep my adrenaline levels at ‘can of whoop-ass’ stage.