Page 17 of Puck Me Up

A few minutes later, the final buzzer sounded and Jeanine jumped up with a huff.

“Finally,” she said. “We gotta get home, it’s time for dinner, bath, and bed.” I stood up, too, hugging her and kissing Micah’s pink, round cheeks. He glared at me like I was the one who was making all that damn racket. I laughed and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. Jeanine waved bye with Micah’s meaty fist, and then they were gone. I watched her go, feeling anxious. Jeanine was a much better friend to me than I was to her. That was undeniable. She was the one always checking up on me, inviting me out for drinks, or tea since she was pregnant again, even though I turned her down nine times out of ten. She never took it personally. She credited Lola with saving her marriage, and with Lola out of the picture, she seemed to be channeling her gratitude into her friendship with me. I knew I needed to get better about being the one to call her, being the one to propose plans, but my life was uniquely insane at the moment. Between Thacker riding my ass at work, which hadn’t slowed down at all as we sped toward the holiday season, and Jamie and Rowan riding my ass in a much better way when I got home, my schedule felt too full to divert any more attention. I hadn’t had a single night off to go out to a bar or catch up with a friend.

Maybe I should be more uncomfortable with the way these relationships are taking over my life,I thought as I wound my way through the crowd toward the locker room. But the truth was, they made me happy. They fucked me well, Jamie even did my laundry, folded it, and put it away. He vacuumed my house and mopped the kitchen floor, scrubbed the stovetop. Changed our sheets when we got them dirty. Which was often.

And the way he fucked me, the way he let another man fuck me without a glimmer of jealousy… I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve him. It must have been a selfless deed in a past life because I’d been living for me in this one. And I still was. I enjoyed being worshiped by two beautiful men, given countless screaming, shaking orgasms while they supported my limp, shaking body through each one.

I leaned back against the wall outside the locker room, crossed my arms, and settled in to wait for Jamie. There was no telling how long the post-game debrief would take. Rowan took it very seriously. I imagined how he was probably tearing Kane Devereaux a new asshole at this very moment, berating him for punching his own teammate—his captain, no less. I wondered why such a shitty attitude was tolerated, why he still had a career if this was his behavior, but then I remembered the way he flew from one end of the ice to the other, the way he scooped the puck out from under the opposition and plowed it right into their goal. I hated to admit it, but in addition to Jamie and Rowan’s leadership, it seemed that Kane was a major reason the Hawks were playing so well this year.

Players trickled out of the locker room, two and three at a time. Lars grinned when he saw me and came over to wrap me up in one of his signature bear hugs. He was like a new man, fifteen years younger, after Lola’s massage treatments. And her love lessons probably didn’t hurt, either.

“Jamie should be out soon,” he assured me, and then he peeled off and headed out with a couple of other third-liners I knew by face but not by name. They nodded politely at me, and I waved back. Next came faces I didn’t recognize. They were new recruits that the owner had sent up here to get them broken in and used to the pace and intensity of professional hockey before he threw them into the deep end of the major league.

After what felt like an eternity, Jamie stepped out alone and flashed me a tired smile. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, kissed him deeply, and he kissed me back but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it quite as much as usual.

“You did an awesome job out there tonight,” I said, sliding my fingers up into the thick copper-colored hair that curled at the base of his neck. He scoffed, and I frowned. “You don’t think so?” He scowled. I wasn’t used to this kind of attitude from Jamie. He was usually obnoxiously upbeat.

“Kane Devereaux doesn’t think so.”

I made a face.

“And who gives a fuck whathethinks?”

Jamie shook his head. This was clearly one of those hockey bro things that I just didn’t get. I could accept that. I squeezed his biceps and then slid my hands down to grasp his, interlacing our fingers.

“Well,” I said in my best sultry voice. “Let’s get you home and into a bubble bath. I bet you’re all sore and tense.” His eyes sparked, and I recognized him again. Familiar, sweet, loving, hot-for-me Jamie was back.

Then the locker room door swung open again, and Kane stepped out with the lanky, rat-faced goalie and a couple of other recruits I didn’t recognize. Kane stopped when he saw us, his eyes sweeping down our bodies, taking in our embrace. Then his lip curled into a sneer.

“If you ever want to stop slumming with a minor-league lifer and come up to my level, you just let me know,” he said. Jamie’s hand curled into a fist around mine, hard enough that it hurt, and I had to pull away. I turned toward the new center, taking him in. His smirk was still firmly fixed in place.

“No, thanks,” I said in a facetiously sweet voice. “Judging by your misplaced rage, I can only assume that your dick is embarrassingly small.”

The smile slid off his face and the sneer returned as his dark eyes went black. He narrowed them at me, and then he spun on his heel and marched away toward the parking lot, leaving his henchmen to run after him.

When I turned back to Jamie, he was barely containing his laughter.

“I mean, is it just me, or is that guy giving major small dick energy?” I quipped. I was hoping that Kane’s jab about Jamie being a lifer hadn’t cut him too deeply. But he didn’t seem bothered. He’d chosen this path for himself, after all.

Before he could reply, the door swung open yet again and Rowan stepped out, looking distracted and pissed off. When he saw us, his shoulders visibly relaxed, and he even managed a tight-lipped smile.

“You hungry?” I asked quietly. I knew better than to openly embrace him here. Then again, after the way he’d spent most of the game staring at me instead of his players, people were probably already starting to talk.

“Famished,” he said, and he sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about that little prick. Rata is in love with him for some reason. And sure, he’s a good skater. He’s a powerful center. But he is also the most insufferable twat I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I think you’re underselling how truly shitty that guy is,” Jamie muttered as we turned together and walked toward the parking lot, following a well-worn path through the crunchy, dirty old snow. The Ice Hawks won the game, but you wouldn’t be able to guess it from the way my two companions were hanging their heads and dragging their feet.

23.

Rowan

I smiled as I watched the woman I loved wipe ketchup off her boyfriend’s cheek. I knew I was in deep, deeper than I wanted to be. Deeper than I’d ever wanted to be. But I didn’t care.

Normally group activities weren’t really my thing—I could be a bit possessive.

I was drawn to Hope, and not just because she was gorgeous and funny and sweet. There was something else, a more primal need that informed my actions now. From the very first time I’d smelled her, tasted her, and gotten to touch her, I knew I was forever changed. Maybe Hope was just that amazing, or maybe that’s what happens when you meet The One. I wasn’t going to let myself get bogged down in the specifics of how someone else’s girlfriend could be The One for me. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that I was as likely to get chewed up and spit out as I was to get a happy ending here. I didn’t even know what a happy ending would look like in this situation.

Maybe what we had now was all we could ever have.

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