“It’s nice to meet you, too.”
If she’s surprised about finding a woman in my condo, she doesn’t show it. “Well, I should get busy whipping up dinner for three.”
“Dinner’s already on the way, Mom, and there’s plenty.”
I inwardly groan. Not that I don’t appreciate my mother or mind her being here, I was looking forward to spending time with Elise. Oh well. Dinner for three, it is.
“You two sit and talk. When the food arrives, I’ll set everything out and let you know when it’s ready.”
Once we’re gathered at the table eating, my mother is critiquing each dish like a judge on one of those cooking shows, amusing us with her detailed reviews. She’s always enjoyedcooking, so I’m not surprised when she reveals that she recently enrolled in culinary school—a dream she put on hold for many years because I was always her number one priority.
“Mom, I’m so proud of you. You’ll do great, and I’m glad you’re finally taking time to do something for yourself.”
Later, after we tell my mother goodnight, I turn to Elise. “Would you mind helping me with something? The Blades are putting together a youth program fundraiser, and rather than giving a donation, I thought I’d offer up some things from my own collection.”
She follows me to the spare bedroom which I use as an office and storage space. I open the closet door and begin sliding out boxes. Elise doesn’t hesitate to offer a hand.
“Should you be moving these? Let me get them.”
Soon, we’re both sitting on the floor surrounded by boxes. “I have no idea what’s in some of these. My mother saved everything from the time I was a kid, and when she downsized and moved to the States, she shipped them all to me.”
“They do appear to be numbered, so perhaps we start with the first one.”
She points out the side of one of the boxes that’s labeled in black markerJax Hockey #1.
I open box number one, removing several scrapbooks and what I’m fairly sure is my first pair of hockey skates.
“Those are adorable,” Elise exclaims.
She scoots closer to me so we can both see the pages of the first scrapbook. Each album is marked with dates and my age.
As I thumb through page after page of memories, I reflect on the tangible evidence of my life that’s been totally dedicated to hockey. It’s my entire identity. Instead of finding childhood drawings or school records, everything in these boxes centers around the sport, including the souvenir of a hospital braceletand a photo of me proudly sporting a cast on my arm at age nine due to a hockey injury.
The emotions build as I reflect on all of the memories, good and bad. Elise listens without judgment, leaning into me, and resting her head on my upper bicep.
Before I know it, several hours have passed and we’ve set aside a pile of game jerseys that I can sign, as well as a number of souvenir pucks for the auction. The childhood keepsakes are tucked back into the boxes.
I stand and offer a hand to Elise to help her up. Likely compensating for my injury, she bounces up with some force, and I wrap my arms around her to keep her from falling. She looks up at me, and I’m hit with a wave of desire. The desire builds rapidly to a need. The need to strengthen our bond, to further explore and deepen the intimacy we’ve steadily established over time.
Our lips move closer until they’re touching, the warmth of her mouth and the slight tingle of wine and pasta still on her tongue as we leisurely taste each other through kisses. At some point, I walk us backward to lean on the wall, relieving some of the pressure of standing for both of us. Of their own volition, my lips move away from her mouth, finding the crook of her neck. As I nibble softly, I inhale the sweetest scent that is uniquely hers. Fresh. Sea salt. Air and sunshine.
She sighs, as if surrendering. Even though it’s a subtle sound, it jolts me back to reality. When she realizes the loss of my lips, her eyes open, searching mine.
“Princess. I want you so badly. I feel such a connection with you and I want to explore it. Navigate it with you. See what it means. Where it goes. I would love to take you to my bed right now, but I don’t want to screw things up just to satisfy a physical need, I want to do things right. When we’re both ready.”
I cup the side of her face, marveling at the softness of her skin and the endless depths of her eyes. Eloquent words escape me as my mind goes blank. Although my body is screaming for relief, my heart says wait. It’s self-preservation. We’ve both got futures to figure out. Once Elise decides what her future holds, if it doesn’t include me, I know my body will recover, but I’m not sure my heart will.
CHAPTER 10
Elise – Winning
Iwake up in a sweat, my heart racing, my legs tangled in the sheets. I reach beside me for Jax, but he’s not here. The marathon session of lovemaking was only a dream. A fantastically hot dream. I’m so physically attracted to him, but it’s probably for the best that we haven’t slept together. His friendship means more to me than having sex. And honestly, there’s a little voice inside telling me that I might lose myself again if I surrender to him completely. I need to guard my heart carefully, as well as my body and soul. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep fantasizing about those lips and that beard going down on me, but a girl can take care of that herself.
Meanwhile, Jax and I have fallen into a comfortable pattern of sharing meals and conversations, further strengthening our emotional bond. And we’re having so much fun acting like rabid hockey fans at the games! I now know the words to every chant, cheer, and insult yelled out during games and have a full wardrobe of team attire. The atmosphere in West Palm iselectric as the Blades have secured a playoff position, despite Jax’s absence from the ice. I know it’s bittersweet for him to be watching from the sidelines, and I’m committed to being there for him, listening when he needs to talk.
For now, it’s time to get up and start fueling myself with caffeine, as it’s going to be a long day of preparation and a big night. Not only is there hockey, tonight is also the debut of my final piece at the arena. It’s much more involved than the tunnel project for the players. This installation is an immersive experience, where all visitors to the arena can walk through a glacier-like corridor with living plants visible within ice walls, symbolizing resilience and adaptation. If it shows well, it could become a permanent display. I’m especially nervous because the media will be here, not to report out on hockey, but to publicizemywork. It’s a good thing I’m not handling any tools today. I don’t think my hands have stopped shaking since Shay told me earlier that one of the top international art publications with a connection to the Ottawa fellowship will be there, and they’ll most likely want an interview.
My phone buzzes on the bedside table and I pick it up to see a text from Jax.
