Page 28 of Blueline Baby

“He’s obsessed.” Lorelei laughs, watching the ice. “And if it makes you feel any better, you’re allowed to look terrified. It’s the real ones who look terrified in here their first time. The ones who don't belong never do.”

Down on the ice, Jack does something fast and physical that has the whole section up and cheering. As he skates past our side of the glass, he glances up in our direction.

He doesn’t blow me a kiss this time. He taps his chest once, right over his heart, and goes back to the game.

Beside me, Lorelei makes a small sound.

“Oh,” she says softly. “Honey. You’re in trouble.”

The rest of the game passes in a loud, chaotic blur of adrenaline. They win. The final horn blasts, the arena goes completely wild, and I follow Lorelei down through a maze of concrete tunnels to the post-game area outside the locker room which is a madhouse—families waiting, reporters milling around, people shouting over each other. I stand near a cinderblock wall, nervously tugging at the long sleeves of the oversized jersey, feeling wildly out of place again now that the game is actually over.

Then he finds me.

He’s fresh out of the shower, wearing a dark suit with his tie already loosened. When he sees me against the wall, he stops for a second, like his brain briefly forgot how to tell his legs to walk.

Then he crosses the crowded hallway. He doesn't say hi. He doesn’t care who’s around, or who is watching, or if there are cameras. He pulls me to him and kisses me, right there in front of everyone. One hand is hot on my cheek, and his other hand presses against my lower back, holding me against him.

When he finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed against mine, blocking out the entire rest of the chaotic arena.

“Come home with me tonight.”

15

JACK

GOD, LOOK AT YOU

I’ve had girls over after games plenty of times.

I want that officially on the record, because you would absolutely not know it from how I’m behaving. I get her into my apartment, and then I completely lose the ability to be a functioning human being.

“Do you want something to drink?” I hear myself say. “I’ve got water. I’ve got, uh…water. Water and I think a blue Gatorade.”

“I’m okay.”

“Okay.” I stand there. “Music? I could put on music. What do you even listen to? I don’t think I know that, which is crazy. I should probably know what kind of music you like, right?”

“Jack.”

“—and it’s cold in here, I can turn the heat up. I’ve got a hoodie somewhere, or—” A thought hits me and I grab it like a life raft. “Do you want a massage? I give great massages. I can help you relax. Not that I think you need to relax, but if you’re tense or something.”

She crosses the room, puts her hands flat on my chest, and looks up at me.

“Jack.” Her voice is soft. “I just want you.”

The words literally almost bring me to my knees.

I pull her toward me. She goes up onto her toes, reaching for my face. I lower my mouth to hers. There’s no game in it. No clever line. Just her, me, and the fact that I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want her right now.

“Come here,” I say against her mouth. I take her hand and lead her back toward my room.

I can see her nervousness physically return the moment the bedroom door shuts, so I don’t rush. I kiss her slowly. I let my hands run down her arms, to her waist, across her ass and down her thighs until I lift her. Her legs wrap around my waist. I walk us backward to the bed before setting her gently down so she’s kneeling in the center of it.

I reach for the hem of the jersey, peeling it up and over her head. The sight that greets me makes my mouth go completely dry.

Delicate, sheer black lace lingerie that barely covers her. The realization hits me like a freight train. She planned this. Under my jersey, through the entire noisy, chaotic game, she had this on the whole time. Knowing exactly what it would do to me.

“God, look at you.” It comes out like I’ve been hit. “You’ve had that on all night?”