Page 54 of Punchline
That exhaustion came through loud and clear in the slur of his words: “I don’t think I’m going to be much company tonight. The whole evening is catching up with me.”
“Then let’s call it a night.” I slid my hands down his back. “I have to be up early for practice tomorrow anyway.”
“You don’t mind?”
I couldn’t help laughing as I lifted my chin for another kiss. “Uh, did you miss the part where you made me come twice? I’m not as tired as you are, but I’m not far behind.”
He offered a soft smile and kissed me lightly. Then we got out of the shower, dried off, and got ready for bed. Unsurprisingly, Jake was out cold within seconds of us climbing under the covers.
Out cold, with his head on my chest and his arm draped over me. His whole body was still and relaxed, a far cry from how wound up he’d been on the mat and… well, he hadn’t exactly been a passive participant after we’d come back to his place, let’s put it that way.
But now he was still, snoring softly and still holding me against him. I was ready to pass out myself, but I couldn’t drift off. Not quite yet.
What if thiswasthe real deal? What if I’dhadlucked into meeting the guy who’d end up meeting my family and becoming that permanent fixture who came to holidays and weddings and funerals? I’d tried to imagine previous boyfriends like that, and I could never quite bring it into focus.
Jake, though—I could see him in that role. Hugging my grandma. Bantering with my brothers and me. Being adorably intimidated the first time he met mydad.
Staring up at his bedroom ceiling, I carded my fingers through Jake’s hair. Yeah. I could see that future with him. He fit. He was someone I wanted to be with, and not just while we were in that “fuck at every opportunity” phase of a relationship.
Is it too much to hope he wants that too?
Frost elbowed me on the bench as the top line set up for the opening faceoff. “You’re gonna fight him again tonight, aren’t you?”
“Who?” I asked.
Frost and Keps both shot me looks that said, “don’t bullshit us, dickbag.”
I scowled and faced the ice again, watching Marek’s line battle for the puck in the neutral zone. Max Vincent was out there, jostling with one of our defensemen, and yeah, my teammates had me dead to rights. I was still salty after Vincent had made me look like a jackass all those games ago. And then of course he’d spent warmups tonight giving me smarmy little smirks that, yes, had gotten under my skin.
Keps laughed and bumped his shoulder against mine. “Do it.”
I turned to him. “What?”
“What?” He shrugged, and as we both faced the action again, he added, “He’s a punk who’s always taking cheap shots and making dirty hits. Someone needs to knock him down a peg.”
“Especially after that bullshit against the Orcas the other night,” Olson muttered, all joking gone from his tone.
“Wait, what? What did he do?”
“Boarded a rookie and took him out for the rest of the season,” Olson said dryly. “Son of a bitch needs to lose a tooth for that.”
I nodded grimly, tracking the fucker in question as he headed back to his bench after his shift. Right then, he looked my way, and he blew me a kiss. My hackles were instantly up.
Keps bumped my shoulder again. “Do it, Berns.”
“You’ve been learning to fight, haven’t you?” Olson asked. “Put it to good use. Fuck that fucker up.”
I laughed, but I couldn’t lie—I was tempted. I’d never gone out onto the ice intending to fight. Some guys did that, especially the old-school enforcers, but it wasn’t my style. My fights were always spur of the moment after someone pissed me off.
Tonight might have to be an exception.
As I skated out for my shift, I glanced up at the crowd, instantly zeroing in on Jake, who was of course sitting with Carson. He smiled and waved, and warmth rushed through me. Admittedly, that momentary connection with him cooled some of my desire to throw down with Vincent.
Some of it.
Because one stoppage later, Vincent came out onto the ice for a faceoff in our defensive zone. He gave me a little smirk as he glided past me, and all that aggravation flared hot again.
I told myself to cool it, though. We weren’t even halfway through the first period, and I didn’t need to tilt the ice in the wrong direction by taking a five-minute major. Or a ten-minute misconduct, since a fight would be completely unprovoked at this point.
