Page 103 of The Import Slot
“Do you only want me for my ass?” I say, half joking.
“Nope. I want you for here,” he puts a hand on my chest where my heart is. “And here.” He taps on my temple. “You’re something else. You know that, right?”
“That’s a shame because I only want you for your body.” I crack a smile, and he grins.
“Not my hilarious sense of humour?” he asks.
“Do I need to make a list?” I joke, but I would. “Anyway, about my ass. I’ve been doing a bit of research.” I say, spinning around on the barstool.
“Yeah?” he says as I kiss his jaw, putting my arms around him, the muscles in his back hard and defined under my fingers.
“Yeah, I’ve got a plan, soon, babe, soon,” I whisper in his ear.
“Tell me more,” he demands.
“Just wait. You’ll love it.” And I know he will. I need to go shopping, I remind myself. I push him away playfully and he groans.
“Let’s go,” I say, getting to my feet.
We reach the front door and his phone rings.
“It’s early for your dad!” I say, glancing at the screen.
His dad is eight hours behind.
“I know. He’s been trying to reach me,” he says.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Is everything okay?”
“Well, he called me about you.”
He fills me in on their conversation and how his dad threw his mom into the conversation as a guilt trip.
“Thing is, I know my mom. I know she’d want both Liam and me to be happy. She knew hockey made us happy, so that’s why she put so much effort in.”
Ryan doesn’t talk about his mother much, but I know how much she meant to him. He told me he was so grateful she got to see him get drafted; she passed away just before Liam’s rookie year, and he’s surprised either of them managed to function and keep their game up.
“You know what I think?” he says finally. “He’s probably thinking that anything we focus on that’s not hockey is a direct disrespect to my mother.” He quickly adds, “She would have loved you,” after seeing my expression. “You’re exactly what I needed before I even knew it myself. I’m not one to believe in these things, but I think I came here to understand that there is more to life than hockey.”
I give him a weak smile, not sure of what to say.
“Let’s go. We’ve got 8km to do today.”
Pfft, 8km for him is a walk in the park.
We head out, and I’m thinking about his dad now. I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard so much about him. I’m not even sure that I want to meet him.
“Hey, you know I never want you to have to choose between me and hockey, right?”
“Why would I have to choose though?”
“I’m just saying,” I reaffirm.
Ryan
JohnnyandIarethe first ones here to prepare for the game tonight.
“I’m going to ask for my number,” I tell Johnny as he tapes his stick.
