Chapter 30 #2
Callan starts handing out shots to everyone around the table and shoots me a smirk. “Did it get you to proposition, Richard? Because that was the goal. I don’t need him all sluggish for this Cup run because he’s carrying around all this pent-up frustration.”
“Dude, do not worry about my frustrations,” Theo barks at him, and Callan shrugs.
“You two are so fucked,” he mutters.
I decline the shot and turn back to Theo. “He’s an idiot. One minute he’s grossed out by the idea we slept together, and now he’s concocting plans to make it happen again.”
“Do you want it to happen again? Still?”
He stares at me, uncertainty clear in his eyes, and I almost laugh. “Yes. But no pressure.”
He reaches up and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I don’t want it to be like before. This isn’t a situationship. It’s a relationship.”
“I want that too. When you’re ready.”
“I—”
“Why does she think you’re… You know?” Callan asks, cutting off whatever Theo was going to say. His eyes are wide with panic. “We need you on D, buddy. I need you.”
“I’m fine.” He looks at me and then at his arm and slowly shrugs out of his jacket. “I got a tattoo.”
“What?” I blink and stare at the gauze circling his arm.
“I was going to show you later. At my place.”
“What is it?” Landon asks.
Theo hesitates, but then he reaches up and slowly peels back the bandage. “It’s been long enough, or close to it.”
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It’s my drawing.
The one he asked me for yesterday. When he asked me to draw something that reminds me of us, I drew a snowflake.
I made it pretty detailed, with an almost tribal design, and even added some shading in the back, which he’s painted with a watercolor splatter in shades of blue.
The snowflake itself is exactly as I designed it.
I picked it because it reminded me of the snowstorm we spent together that started it all.
I signed the design with my initials, and he even got those inked on his bicep.
It covers most of the scar from the operation to repair his arm.
“Cool design,” Grady says.
“Lola drew it,” Theo says. I can feel his gaze, but I can’t bring myself to stop staring at his tattoo… of my drawing.
“Holy shit, I’ve been inked onto your arm,” I whisper in awe. This is the coolest thing ever.
“Yeah. You’re also branded into my heart,” he whispers back. “So this is no big deal.”
I finally look at him. “How am I not supposed to sleep with you after that?”
“I was kind of hoping you would. I mean, that’s what girlfriends do, right?” He winks at me.
I grin and grab my coat and purse from the chair. “Sorry. We’re outta here.”
“Finally!” Callan calls after us, but we don’t stop to acknowledge him.
As soon as the door closes on Theo’s loft, we’re tearing each other’s clothes off, fused at the mouth.
It doesn’t take long until we’re naked on his bed.
I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close, reveling in the feel of his warm skin and hard muscles against me.
His lips move from my mouth to my neck, and I press the back of my head into the plush pillow and let my eyes fall shut.
“Are you sure?” I can’t help but ask as his lips and fingers trail their way down my body. “Because, full disclosure, I will break if you change your mind again tomorrow.”
“I want you. I want you to be mine,” he says, and there’s a confidence in his voice that grounds me and makes my worry evaporate. He pauses to kiss my hipbone. “Also, my birthday is July twenty-fourth.”
“Okay…” I say as he kisses my other hipbone.
“I sent you pancakes for your birthday, but this…” He pauses and licks me slowly from the bottom of my slit to my clit. “This is what I want for breakfast on my birthday. Placing my order now.”
And then he lowers his head and goes to work.
I moan, overwhelmed by the sweet sensations his tongue is causing.
He doesn’t let me come, so I shove him back on the bed and suck his cock until he’s about to come, and then I move away.
We’re playful and happy, but the teasing pushes us both past our limits, and when he finally slips on the condom, flips me onto all fours, and slides into me, we don’t last long. Our orgasms hit hard.
“That’s got to be a ten,” he mumbles as he drops the condom into the wastebasket by the nightstand.
“An eleven,” I confess, and he fist pumps lazily into the air. The tattoo catches in the light from the kitchen. I stare at it. “You’ve got a piece of me on you forever.”
His eyes flutter open, and he looks at me, his dark eyes unblinking and the smile on his face confident. “I want all of you forever, Lola.”
His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me into his chest. Everything stills at the very same time, everything feels… wild. And free. I’m disoriented in the best possible way. “I’m sorry I had to figure out some stuff first. I’m sorry I couldn’t sweep you off your feet the way you deserve.”
“We found a way to be with each other in spite of all the bullshit, and that’s all that matters.” I kiss his collarbone. “I wanted you whatever way I could get you.”
A few minutes later, when I think he might be asleep, he whispers, “I’m going to win the Cup, and I want you in my jersey and in my arms when I do.”
“What if it doesn’t happen this year?”
“Then just like with sober sex, I won’t stop until I get there.” He squeezes me tight. “I think I’ve proven that I get what I want in the end.”
“Guess I have to buy a Richard jersey then.”
And for the first time in my life, hockey becomes my dream too. Because there is nowhere I’d rather be than in his arms, on the ice, and everywhere else.