Chapter 19 #2
“Shutthefrontdoor,” Alexis squeaks in a high pitch tone, “you speak German?!”
“Moscow is in Russia,” I politely correct prior to slowly nodding, “and nebol'shoye kolichestvo.”
“Eeeeekkkk!” the brunette chirps in tandem with flying to the edge of her seat. “What does that mean?!”
“A little bit,” the other half of my soul translates.
“Since when do you speak Russian?!” Lionel grunts in an impressed fashion.
“Um…” Gilly nervously nibbles on her bottom lip.
“You said Cap’s wife,” Béchir suddenly begins, our collective gazes, “like a ship’s captain? Or a pilot?” His brow pulls together in befuddlement. “I thought Aly said you worked in the business of athletics.”
“Too tall to be a pilot,” Ciara casually announces. “Dated plenty. I’d know.”
There’s no time to process her commentary courtesy of Lionel further injecting, “Kira said the same thing; however, she never mentioned any details.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice my Slayer visibly tense.
Ah.
They don’t know.
But do they not know because she’s embarrassed for them to know?
Is she embarrassed of me?
Ashamed that I don’t have a PHD in history or a masters in urban agriculture – although I think if I were to go back and hit the books again, I would be interested in the sustainability initiatives of growing coffee beans in vertical farming.
I mean…I’ve never gotten the impresh she was ashamed of me before.
Why should I now?
And since she’s not humiliated that her best friend – her brother – coaches, I can’t imagine she’d feel that way about her boyfriend – future husband – being one of the best players in the league.
I’m damn sure not.
It’s my truth.
I live it.
My groove.
I move to it.
That’s what matters.
Just like teeth are hers.
We can appreciate and respect one another’s jams without judgment.
Which…is what I thought we had established from the very first note.
Did she not give them more deets because she was worried that if she told them “too much”, they’d soc’ stalk before I could properly be introduced?
Is that what all this is about?
She just wanted to be the one to give my intro?
My prelude?
Unsure of exactly how long ago I hit the pause button is what leads me to clearing my throat to aid in continuing what I’m picking up is about to be an uncomfortable conversation. “I’mma professional athlete.”
“Explains the physiqueeeee,” Ciara coos not so quietly to Alexis who instantly nods in agreement.
“Ohshit!” Lionel excitedly exclaims. “You’re not one of her patients, are you? Tell us that’s not how you met. That’d be some real unethical shit.”
“Like dating a student,” sasses his wife without hesitation.
“She wasn’t technically my student,” he murmurs in return. “She was just a student. And at a completely different college.”
“He is a patient now because it’s insane for anyone not to have had reliable dental care in years,” Gilly clumsily attempts to answer, “but he wasn’t a patient then…
even though him and his brother got that way super shortly after…
except that I still provide care to his brother and have passed standard care for Thayne over to a colleague to avoid conflicts of interest in the office. ”
“You have a brother?” Alexis quickly investigates. “Does he play sports too?”
I do my best to keep my tone neutral, “He’s sixteen.”
“Ugh,” she gags at the same time she leans back closer to her date, “never mind…”
“What do you play?” Lionel resumes his interrogation.
The tiny tightening of my hand Gilly delivers is taken like a wordless cheer of encouragement to continue. “Hockey.”
“Should’ve known,” Béchir lightly chuckles. “She was raised in the rink. Blanc never lets anyone forget that shit.”
“Major or minor?” Allerick questions next.
“Major.”
“Team?” Buchanan throws out.
“Dalvegan Dragons.”
“That’s why you look so familiar!” Ciara states, damn near flying out of her seat a second time. “You’re the goalie!”
It’s impossible not to bashfully grin. “I am.”
“Ohmygod!” her and Alexis shriek in tandem. “We love you!”
“You two make me need another glass,” playfully announces Aly prior to standing up. “Maybe something stronger?” She tosses a look in Kira’s direction. “Wilcox?”
“Aged bottle’s in Béchir’s study bar,” Kira casually informs much to her husband’s dismay.
“Does your brother know?” Lionel swiftly scrutinizes, question aimed directly at Gilly. “What’s he got to say about the situation?”
“Yeah,” Béchir backs, “I can’t imagine he’s a huge fan of his employee-”
“Player,” Gilly meekly corrects.
“-sleeping with his sister.” His large hands fold contemplatively together in front of him. “I know I wouldn’t be.”
“Me either,” echoes Buchanan.
“Nope,” Allerick adds.
“Is there any of that pink Moscato left?” my girlfriend verbally wonders, voice noticeably cracking. “Maybe um…some white?”
“I can check for ya, Gillybean,” I volunteer and prepare to stand only for her to beat me to it. “You know I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine,” she rushes to insist before bolting out of the space. “I’ve got it.”
You know as much as I love my Slayer’s ass, I don’t particularly love when it’s rushing away from me like I saved the puck and now she’s on an unanticipated breakaway.
Sound doesn’t manage to escape Lionel’s mouth courtesy of Kira suggesting, “You might wanna help her with the bottle, Groff. She’s not great with corks.”
I graciously nod in appreciation of the segue prior to politely offering my hands up in dismal, “Y’all please excuse me.”
No more than two steps out of proposed earshot, I hear a heavy huff of disapproval from the host who I’m sure isn’t loving the turn the event has taken.
But like…it ain’t my fault.
I didn’t do anything wrong.
I’ve been polite.
I’ve been gentlemanly.
Attentive.
Maybe a little overly attentive when Buchanan’s eyes were lingering a little too long on my Slayer’s legs in her cowgirl boots, but I mean it’s hard to blame him for that one.
Between the boho, sleeveless, cream-colored dress she’s sporting and those leather treats, there’s a reason we didn’t make it into the house right away.
Pretty sure if it weren’t for the fact we had to drop Bronny at Sergio’s for the night, we might not have made it out of our house at all.
The thought to check on him nearly slows my stride – something great happened to him at school that he didn’t get to finish telling me about ‘cause my agent called about a sponsorship opportunity – however, the sight of Gilly growing increasingly flustered while fighting with the wine opener has me staying focused on the period at hand.
This stretch now.
Reviewing missed footage later.
Once I arrive at her side in the Mediterranean style open kitchen, I simply linger in silence, thumbs hooked in my suit pants pockets, anxious for something to cling onto.
I’d choose her – hell, I’d always choose her – yet now doesn’t seem right.
She feels like she needs space.
And space is something I may not like but definitely can provide.
Her bottle battle continues for a couple minutes more with the noises decreasing in increments and increasing in intensity before I cautiously ask, “Want some help?”
Gilly’s mouth lowers to answer only to release a hiccup instead.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with wantin’ help even when you’re pissed at me, Gillybean,” I quietly retort prior to transferring the object into my possession.
“But truth be told, Idono why you’re pissed at me.
” Putting the glass item on the granite island countertop occurs next.
“I don’t even know what the penalty could’ve possibly been. ”
“They didn’t need to know that you play hockey,” she hisses in a hushed tone I barely hear around my successful uncorking.
“What was I supposed to do?” I toss the opener to the side and maintain the quieter established volume. “Lie?”
“Just…think!” Gilly unhappily plants her open palm on the counter.
“Think before you act! Think before you just say whatever comes to mind, Thayne! How you answer has real fucking consequences. Especially here! Béchir literally works out at the same gym as my brother. Lionel and Kira’s daughter have music classes on the same day, in the same building as my nephew meaning they could run into Mari-”
“Who knows!”
“Yes, she knows, but she doesn’t like that my brother still doesn’t know, and if she finds out we told more people, she’s definitely gonna be extra mad at me, which is not an ideal environment to be stuck in for the holidays!”
“She ain’t the only one who doesn’t like that he doesn’t know, Gillian!”
Her eyes widen in what I imagine is shock at hearing her full name.
“And to completely clear the fuckin’ ice?
” Displeasure gets pucks deep in my tone.
“I’m tired of feelin’ like we’re stuck in some new age version of ‘Secret Lovers’!
I’m tired of not bein’ able to bring you up in conversations with the boys ‘cause Coach or Ewers might fuckin’ hear!
I’m tired of not even bein’ able to look at you too long in a crowded room ‘cause you’re afraid someone might be watchin’ and out us before you can!
” Taking a breath is what I should do but don’t.
“I’m tired of pretendin’ like you’re actually gonna magically find ‘Time’ – like you’re fuckin’ Pink Floyd – for us to get this done when we both know no matter what happens, it’s never gonna be ‘right’!
And I’m tired of feelin’ like we’re not right, all because you’re more worried about what mic drop your big brother might do rather than the beautiful tuneskies we make when we’re together. ”
Unmistakable tears begin to gather along the rims of her eyelids alongside a whimpered, “Jukes, I-”
“Should we move onto a new game?” Aly loudly questions upon entering the room. “Maybe one where less memory is required?”
“Yes please!” agrees Alexis from the other area.
“You two good with that?” Aly inquires during her approach. “Good with giving other people a chance to win?”
The smile on my face appears smooth in spite of being forced. “I’mma team player, so whatever y’all wanna do, I promise to give it my best.”
“Ohhhh,” tipsily cooing precedes her lightly wagging her whiskey holding glass at me, “you really are sweeter than those slutty brownies.”
“Ya know what? I wouldn’t mind grabbin’ another one of those right now.
” Dropping my attention back to my girlfriend who is doing her best to hold it together is followed by me politely stating, “Why don’t I pour you a glass, grab me a brownie, and meet you in our seats after you use the restroom, Gillian?
” Her watery eyes offering me gratitude tightens the knots already lingering in my stomach.
“Like I said. I’mma team player.” Retrieving an empty, nearby piece of drinkware aids in me focusing my gaze as well as my unwavering irritation elsewhere. “Always prepared to put others first.”