CHAPTER
NINE
OLIVE
Wakingup with Charlie in her arms was not where Olive expected last night to lead, but she was not disappointed that it had ended that way. They’d ended up showering together again, lazily kissing before collapsing into bed. With Charlie’s game the next day, Olive did not want to test out any more of their sexual compatibility, and Charlie was more than happy to turn in early to get her rest. It was a little awkward when Charlie thanked Olive for the experience, but Olive joked that it was her duty as a Canadian to make sure that their athletes were well-prepared and rested for the game. Elbows Up, and all that.
Now in the morning light, Olive couldn’t resist studying Charlie’s resting face. She had a natural beauty to her, and it was almost hard to believe she was a professional athlete and not a model. Olive was sure the two overlapped occasionally, but she was almost tempted to suggest that to her as a potential career. Olive had a feeling Charlie wouldn’t see it that way, but she loved her muscles. There was nothing sexier than someone who could support you, literally and physically, and Olive was more than happy to make Charlie see that in the future.
“Morning,” Olive said, and kissed Charlie’s cheek. She didn’t want to wake her up, but Charlie had mentioned needing to be up early. Based on the light creeping in, it was almost time for the alarm Charlie had set to go off, but Olive wanted to spend some more time with her before she had to go.
Charlie rubbed her eyes open. “Good morning.”
She stood up and stretched, the robe only showing Olive bits and pieces of the gorgeous skin she knew was underneath. Olive was being a patriot by letting her leave her bed, and it was one of the most patriotic things she had done in recent history. She wondered if she could get the Prime Minister to write her a letter? Olive was chuckling about this to herself when Charlie turned back to her.
“You okay there?”
“Yes, just joking to myself.”
Charlie shook her head and walked to the bathroom. Olive sighed and stood up, looking around the room. They had cleaned up after their sexcapades yesterday, so there really was nothing to distract herself with there. Olive picked up her phone from where it was charging on the nightstand, but with the time difference, Bronwyn was not yet up to keep her company. Olive knew she’d want an update about what happened last night, but she did not want to give it to her yet.
“What are you going to do today?” Charlie had exited the bathroom now, watching her.
“Not sure yet,” Olive admitted.
“Do you want to watch a hockey game?”
“Like… your hockey game?”
Charlie nodded.
“Sure, that would be nice.”
Charlie smiled in a way that Olive had rarely seen on her, and Olive nearly melted. If all she had to do was go watch a boring sport to see that smile, Olive would happily be bored for the rest of her vacation.
“What do I wear?” Olive asked, suddenly concerned that she had nothing suitable.
“Whatever you want,” Charlie said, so helpfully.
Olive shook her head, the panic setting in a little bit. “I’m serious. I’ve never been to a hockey game.”
Charlie furrowed her brows and walked closer to Olive, taking her hands in hers. “What are you so worried about? It’s okay, you’ll look nice no matter what. Just find something red.”
“I don’t have anything red.”
Olive knew that it was stupid to be worrying about this, but she couldn’t help it. She always showed up to every event in the perfect costume, the exact right attire, and speech. She didn’t even know the hockey lingo, and now she would show up in completely the wrong colours. This was going to be a disaster.
“I don’t remember that to be the case,” Charlie joked, clearly referring to the lingerie Olive had worn earlier for her, but Olive only frowned deeper. “You know there’s no dress code to supporting me, right?”
Olive closed her eyes and tried to process what Charlie was saying. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Charlie shook her head. “If it’s important to you, I’ll make sure the next time you see one of my games, you’re wearing one of my jerseys.”
“Next time? Do they even make jerseys for the Olympics?”
Charlie swallowed and blushed. “They do but I meant… in Toronto. I’ll get you one of my Succubi jerseys.”
“I keep forgetting your team mascot is so unique. Seems accurate, though,” Olive said. The shift in conversation, though not less stressful, was much more interesting to her now.
