It’s been a week since the wedding, and I’ve not seen Cara nearly as much as I want to. We’ve both been busy as hell at work, though I’ve managed to sneak into her office a couple of times on her lunch break, catching her drooling over red-bottomed heels on her phone or, more often, working while she eats. The way she lights up when I bring her a coffee or a sweet treat always makes my day, though, even if that’s the only time I get to spend with her.
Now, though, I’m having withdrawals from my girl.
Star and Crown restaurant, tonight, 8pm,I text her as I change in the locker rooms before practice.
“What’s got you grinning like a Cheshire cat?” Jay asks, his shoulder nudging mine before he puts his mouth guard in.
I roll my eyes at him, putting my own mouth guard in to avoid answering. All I want to do is tell everyone how amazing Cara is and how much I’m falling for her, but we haven’t discussed how to navigate our relationship alongside work, and I don’t want to upset her by bragging about her before she’s ready for me to.She’s only just started working here, and the last thing I want is to risk her position before we’ve figured everything out.
But it’s damn hard to hide it from the guys, especially when Hugh catches me eye fucking her when she comes in to take videos for content. I nearly catch a puck to the skull because I’m so distracted by her, which makes all the other guys laugh and start ragging on me.
Thank God training is so intense that it forces me into the zone, making time pass relatively quickly, and when I’m sweaty and panting at the end of it, I can’t help but remember all the ways Cara and I were sweaty and panting last weekend.
And now I have to try and hide the fact that my cock’s hard.
Thankfully, the showers are individual stalls, and I manage to calm myself down long enough to clean up and get dressed again, though my thoughts never stray from Cara for longer than a few seconds.
I can’t resist checking my phone as I head out to get ready at my apartment, and thank God there’s a reply from Cara agreeing to our dinner plans. Though she clearly can’t resist teasing me, even over text, because her reply includes:
As long as you save room for dessert *winky face*
Just like that, I’m hard again, and I groan as I slide into my truck and head for home, the minutes between now and when I get to see her again suddenly feel far too long.
Finally, it’s time for our date, and I feel like a teenager going on his first date all over again.
Excitement floods my body as I pull up at the restaurant, once again early. Cara is truly making me a changed man, because I’venever been early to anything except when I’m meeting her. My mother will be so pleased, I think with a chuckle.
I’m making my way to the host stand, bag with gifts in hand, when I see her. Cara looksediblein a tight black shimmery dress and heels. Her makeup is done just enough to highlight her beauty, with a red lip that I can’t help but imagine messing up.That mouth would look so good around my cock.
“You look…” I trail off as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close, not having enough words to describe how fucking stunning she is.
Cara looks up at me, but doesn't smile. "Mind if we grab a drink first before dinner?"
'Sure, why not?" We head to the bar.
"I'll grab that table over there," Cara says, "and just a Spritz cocktail, please."Sure," I stand for a second, a little taken aback by her brusque, business-like attitude. Definitely, something does not seem entirely hunky dory. I grab the drinks and join her. We sit for a moment. "Um, busy day, princess?"
She sighs, drums her fingers on her glass, her eyes staring down at the table. "Jake," she starts, "who is Melody?"
I suck in air as if from an aqualung at one hundred meters, and grab for my drink. "Cara. Oh, well, since you mention her name, I suppose you already know the answer to your own question."
"You are aware of my role with the BlueHawks, right? So, you must know that everyone will be talking to me, right? Media, teammates, fans, sponsors, wives, and girlfriends. Christ, even fucking admin and tech support. So when I start receiving messages all fucking day long telling me about your so-calledlong-time girlfriend, and according to some, your future wife, Melody, it is reasonable for me to go investigating, right?" She sucks her top lip in and cocks her head to one side, flashing her eyes up toward me. "Like, go investigate the actual source and the subject."
Now I am in that classic situation where what the fuck do I do? Smile, joke, tell her I can explain, look at her, look away, touch her, look bored, tap my foot. So, I take a sip of my drink and play dead. Just exist in front of her. Defocus. The subtle art of being present and not present in the same millisecond. The epitome of calm. The zen of timing my moment to speak.
"Cara," I begin.
"I'm going to the washroom," she says, grabs her bag, and storms away. That went well. So much for the zen of timing my moment.
Cara finally returns after calming herself and giving me enough time to stew in my discomfort. Sufficient time to come up with my own explanation, my own honest explanation, or to have built a wonderfully convincing, dishonest story. She sits, adjusts, and fixes her gaze on mine, ready to scour my every twitch and expression while she analyses each word I am about to utter. "Melody was my girlfriend." I stop, pick up my drink, and sip. That's it, over and out.
Cara sits wide-eyed, expectant. "And, that's it?"
"Yup."
"So the plane tickets to Paris are?—"
"No longer necessary."
