Chapter Nineteen
HALSEY
“How does the ankle feel?” OC asks as he comes up to me in the training room.
“Good,” I answer while I wait for Grace to come over and wrap it.
“Think you can play more tonight?”
“I’m hoping for it. Up to this one.” I nod at Grace, who walks up with some pre-wrap in her hand.
OC smiles. “Hey, Grace. How are you?”
She glances over at him and gives him a curt smile. “Good.” She then turns to me and taps the edge of the table. “Scoot down.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll catch you later,” OC says. I watch him wait for Grace to say something, but she doesn’t.
Interesting.
When he’s out of sight, I say, “What was that about?”
“What was what about?” she asks.
“It seemed like there was some tension there.”
“No tension.” She smiles up at me but then gets back to work.
Okay, I’m not buying it. I tuck away the information for now, though, because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, especially when she holds the right to tell me to sit my ass on the bench tonight. And I don’t want to do that. I need to fucking play.
I have all of this pent-up adrenaline inside me that I need to take out on the ice.
And where is the adrenaline coming from? Blakely, that’s where.
Last night, when she came home from dinner, she took a while getting ready for bed, and when she finally came over to sleep with me, she was wearing pajama pants and a T-shirt. I told her it was unacceptable, stripped her out of it, and then proceeded to fuck her three times.
Each time, she asked for more.
In all of my life, I’ve never had sex like this.
Ever.
Point-blank, this is the most and best sex of my goddamn life.
And the thing about it is I can’t get enough of her. I can’t satiate this feeling I have inside every time I see her, and she’s the same way. We don’t talk . . . we just fuck.
I know that will come back and hurt me at some point because I have so much to say to her—so fucking much—but I feel like I’m on borrowed time. She’s still awkward. She’s still a flight risk. And I’m scared that with one wrong move, she’ll take off without warning.
So I’ll keep doing what I’m doing until she’s comfortable.
“So what do you think?” I ask Grace. “Think I can play more tonight?”
“I think so,” she says as she tears a piece of tape with her teeth and then lines it along my ankle. She looks me in the eyeand adds, “But if you reinjure this because you’re going too hard, I’m going to be very upset with you.”
I chuckle. “You and everyone else.”
“Then you know what’s at stake. Good.” She finishes taping and then sets her things to the side. “Be careful, but you should be good. If it hurts even remotely, you come off that ice. Understood?”
I nod. “Understood.”
