Page 64 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

And Molly. Damn, things are good with Molly. Once she said she loved me, she slid right into being the world’s best girlfriend. She doesn’t even try to cover herself when I strip her naked these days. Plus, she’s been going to all my home games, sitting in the WAG section and sending me flirty waves that I swear make me skate faster.

“Molly!” I holler, letting myself into her house with the key she gave me. Matthew’s going home with his dad after school today to start his week with him. That means I have plans to get Molly naked and keep her that way until I have to leave for practice.

“Back here!” she calls back.

I follow the direction of her voice, gripping the doorway of her bedroom when I see her in a short, silky emerald green nightie with lace cutouts that give enticing glimpses of her milky smooth skin. She’s laid out on the bed, her knee cocked up and one hand behind her head. Her auburn hair is spread out on the pillow. But it’s her confident smile that takes my breath away.

“Have I been a good boy?” I can barely breathe.

Molly lets out a hearty laugh, then controls herself, giving me a throaty answer in the mom voice I love so much. “Such a good boy. Why don’t you come over here and let me show you how good?”

My phone rings in my back pocket, but I can’t take my eyes off Molly. I take it out and throw it on the nightstand without looking at it. Molly lifts her arms in the air, and I take a flying leap to land on the bed, careful not to squash her. She squeals as I pounce on her, quick to get my lips on every available inch of skin.

“Mmm, baby. You smell so good,” I murmur, taking my time to kiss every inch of her.

My phone rings again and Molly’s head turns toward it. “Ignore it,” I tell her, then push her knee to the side to see matching panties under this lingerie. “Yes,” I whisper, celebrating with myself. If I didn’t mind taking my hands off Molly, I’d high five myself for what I’m about to enjoy.

The phone rings a third time and with an irritated moan, I lean over her to snatch it up and silence it. Except I see that it’s my dad calling me. I must pause or grimace or something because Molly pushes up on her elbows.

“You need to take that?”

Dad never calls me. Except when we lose a game. Then he calls and tells me all the ways in which we fucked up and deserved the loss. “Um, maybe. It’s my dad.”

Molly pushes the phone toward me. “Take it!”

Fuck. I grab her hands and bring them to my lips, kissing her fingers before hitting accept and putting the phone to my ear. “Dad?”

“Bobby! ‘Bout time you answered. Your mom’s in the hospital.”

I’m frozen, absorbing his words as if through a tunnel stuffed with cotton balls. I feel Molly shift, pressing her ear to mine to hear what he’s saying. He keeps talking, but I can’t make out the words. Fear, the kind that grabs your gut in a vice and won’t let you take a full breath, is running the show. I’ve felt this way a time or two out on the ice, but I was always able to breathe my way through it. Not this time. Not with Mom.

Molly nudges me. She mouths the word “okay” and I say it back.

Dad finally penetrates the fog, probably because his voice breaks in the middle of his sentence. “Just get here quick, okay, son?”

I say okay again and hang up, still holding the phone in the air. Molly is up on her knees, her hands cupping my face.

“Bobby? Honey, can you hear me?”

“Wha . . .?”

Molly slams her lips to mine, her tongue delving into mouth and stealing what breath I have left. She leans her warm sweet body into mine. My hands find her hips and suddenly the heat of her seeps into me. My shoulders drop and my hands slide around to her ass, cupping her.

She pulls away just enough to stare into my eyes. “You with me?”

“I’m with you, baby.”

“Okay.” Her thumbs stroke my cheeks, so sweet and comforting I want to curl up into her. “We need to get you to Georgia, honey.”

She tries to pull her hands away from my face, but I hold them there. “Come with me.” It’s not a question. I need her there with me. I need her by my side in my hometown more than ever. I’ll beg if I have to.

Molly’s eyes go wide and then she nods. “Okay. I just need to call Coco and pack a bag.”

“You’ll come?” When she nods again, I kiss her, hard. “Thank you.”

I travel a lot for my job, but I’ve never taken a better plane ride than this one. We were able to snag last minute seats inthe very back row of the airplane by the bathrooms. The baby in front of me must be related to Mei because she’s been screaming almost the whole flight. Molly’s held my hand the whole time, her thumb stroking back and forth like a metronome of comfort.

Molly remembered to call Richie, who said he was working a shift and couldn’t leave until tomorrow. I didn’t want to wait that long, so we took off for the airport immediately. Molly informed me that Dad said something about a heart attack on the phone. That must have been the part I didn’t hear. When I went to Google heart attack survival rates in women, Molly confiscated my phone. Instead, she’s been coaxing out every single memory I have of my mom.

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