43. Lavinia
FORTY-THREE
LAVINIA
It’s been two days of nothing but sex and my body is sore in places I don’t remember it could be sore. We’re insatiable for each other. It’s like we’re releasing all the sexual frustration we carried.
Before Roman leaves for practice today, he presses me against the front door and kisses me thoroughly. Then he tells me to be ready when he gets home because we have plans. I take the time to feed the kitties and shower.
While I’m drinking my coffee, I call Jules.
Salem and Buffy are lying in front of me on the coffee table and I lean over, petting their bellies.
Sabrina is still a little iffy of me and watches me distrustfully most of the time.
The only person she allows to pet her is Roman. Not even Kita is allowed near her.
“Please tell me you’ve been thoroughly railed over the last two days,” she answers. I haven’t been home in two days, so I haven’t had the chance to update her.
“Oh my God! Is that how you answer the phone now?”
“It is when I assume you’re calling me to share the good news,” Jules says.
I blush from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet.
“To answer your question, yes I did.”
Jules’s cry of excitement makes me laugh.
“I’m so happy you finally found yourself a man who knows where everything on a woman’s body is.”
“Oh, trust me, Roman’s become very familiar with my body in the last two days.”
I fall back on the couch, thoroughly exhausted. My mind is whirring with energy, but my body is going to need at least two days to recover from all the sex so I can have even more sex in my future.
“Sometimes I wonder if I’m going to be enough for him.”
In many ways, Roman has a very exciting life.
I’m good with people and I like to socialize but at the end of the day, I’m just a girl who wants to spend time with my best friend and cuddle up with a good book.
Roman’s my opposite in that regard. Sure, he doesn’t socialize but he still had a more adventurous life than me.
What if once the novelty wears off, he realizes that he wants something else?
“Babe, if he thinks that then he’s not good enough for you, anyway,” Jules says. “Though, from what I know of him, he’s nothing like the Douchebag Collective. He’s never once wanted to tear you down so he can build himself up.”
She’s not wrong. Roman’s very different from my exes. But I’ve been burned before, many times. I have this habit of opening myself up to people only for them to slam the door in my face. And I’m afraid if Roman does that, I won’t be able to move on this time.
Once Jules and I hang up, I have nothing to do, and I don’t want to read right now. All my content is already uploaded for the next week. And while I have some files to edit, I don’t want to stare at myself.
I decide to explore Roman’s apartment.
All the days and nights that I’ve spent here, I’ve only been in two rooms. His room and the media room. But I know he mentioned there’s a guest room and there’s another room that I haven’t seen because the door is always closed.
I don’t want to invade his privacy. Then again, if he didn’t want me going into the room, he would have told me to not go into the room. I check the guest room first and find that it’s decorated with all the warmth of a hotel room.
After I’ve examined it, my curiosity gets the better of me and I open the door to the other room. I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe Fifty Shades level of a red room? But it’s not this.
The room is stuffed full of boxes. For a neat freak like Roman, I figured he’d have sorted everything out when he moved into the apartment instead of having a room full of boxes that he still hasn’t gotten to.
To be fair, the boxes are neatly organized.
I’m about to close the door because there’s nothing interesting in here when something catches my eye. I walk further into the room to confirm. It's a black tote container and the label on the outside has my name.
I blink at it in surprise and jump when I hear a noise behind me. I turn around and see that Salem has followed me into the room. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I bend down to pick him up.
“Do you know why there’s a box with my name on it?” I ask him. “Any idea what your dad is up to?”
He licks his mouth and the look on his face clearly says that he’s a cat, he has no idea what’s going on. My curiosity has brought me into the room, but I’m not going to violate Roman’s privacy by opening the box. Which has my name on it.
Who has a container in their house with someone else’s name on it? My husband has a lot to explain.
I don’t get a chance to ask him because as soon as he comes home from practice, he tells me to get ready because we’re going to be late. He doesn’t tell me what we’re going to be late for.
I swap my sweats for a pair of leggings and a sweater, pulling on my ankle boots. Roman is in joggers and a Titans hoodie, so I assume we’re not going on a fancy date. I find that I’m correct when we pull up in front of the community center.
“What are we doing here?” I ask him.
He turns to me with a sly look on his face. “Do you want to play hockey with me, Lavinia?”
My mouth drops open in surprise. “Seriously?”
He shrugs, an almost shy smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m sure you miss it and I think we’ll have fun. I haven’t played hockey with you since we were kids.”
I remember what he told me—I’m the reason he started playing hockey. It’s such a huge statement, I’m still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it. Both that I inspired him and that he willingly admitted it.
Women in sports is still a niche area, and I’ve rarely met people who admit to watching female sports and that we’re as good as the men.
“Baby, if you want to lose to me, you only need to ask,” I tease.
“I play for a team that won the Stanley Cup last year,” Roman says.
I push open the door and exit the car. “We’ll see who’s the better player after I wipe the floor with you.”
Roman exits the car and pulls out two duffel bags from the trunk. I notice that one of them is mine. I point at it. “Did you go to my apartment and get that?”
“I did. Please tell Jules I’m not up to anything nefarious.”
I’m impressed that he went to that much trouble to plan this date.
It’s not about getting my gear in advance.
It’s that he went to Jules to do it. Whatever she may say to me, there’s no way she’s going to let him know that she’s impressed by him.
If anything, she’s going to make things harder for him on purpose.
Putting on my gear fills me with nostalgia. I’m happy where I am now, but there was a time when I thought I wouldn’t be here. It’s so hard to move on from something that’s taken so much of your time, energy, and mental space.
Some part of it has to do with Roman. He’s always told me the truth, whether I wanted to hear it or not.
And Jules is right. Roman’s always trying to build me up, not knock me down.
Having that from someone other than my family, people who’ll love me no matter what, has helped me understand my own potential.
I pull my hair into a braid and walk out of the change room to see Roman already on the ice. I step onto the ice for the first time in two years, and God the feeling is unmatchable. It’s like gliding through the clouds.
“This might’ve been a mistake,” Roman says, his eyes raking over my body. “You look way too hot in your jersey for me to concentrate on hockey.”
I scoff, tossing my braid over my shoulder. “If you think that’s going to distract me, you don’t know what kind of player I am.” My eyes fall to the tripod and camera he’s set up at the edge of the rink.
“I figured you can use this for content, if you want,” Roman explains. “I know a lot of your followers will love to see you playing again, even if it’s here.”
Worry flickers to life inside me. I haven’t played in front of any kind of audience since before my injury.
“What if I’m not good anymore?” I ask.
Roman’s face softens and he drops his stick. Skating over to me, he cups his hands around my face, making sure I’m looking right at him. I love it when he does that, like he’s forcing me to see the sincerity in his eyes and telling me he’ll never lie to me.
“You are the best hockey player I know, and I’ve played on a lot of teams. A little injury isn’t going to change that. I only wanted to give you the option of posting because I know how much you miss playing. I’m not going to let you fail, Lavinia.”
Oh. So, this is what it feels like to have a partner who wants to lift you up. This warm, fuzzy glow of safety that if I fall, he’ll catch me.
“Okay.” I nod. “Let’s play.”
Roman grins, kissing me quickly before skating back to pick up his stick. He drops the puck onto the ice, and we get into the face off position. I’ve spent the last two years watching him play. I know exactly what he’s going to do before he does it.
As soon as he drops the puck, I’m ready with my stick. I’m chasing it down to the goal before he even realizes what’s happened. But he catches on quickly and he’s beside me, swiping the puck out from under me.
I manage to wrestle it away from him and score a goal. Raising both arms up in the air, I turn to face him.
“If you need some tips on how to play hockey, I’m more than willing to give them,” I mock. How did I think I was going to fail at this? It’s like muscle memory.
Roman laughs, shaking his head. “You got lucky. Let’s see if you get the next one.”
“That’s a clever excuse men always use when they’re losing. Why don’t you think of something original while I score my next goal?”
I have to say this, he’s not here to let me win. A fact I appreciate. I have the puck again and I’m streaking down the ice when he corners me against the boards, his body pressing into me.
“Seeing you play hockey makes me so hard,” he whispers in my ear, before he places a searing kiss on my neck.