Delayed Penalty (16 page)

I hoped that eventually we would. The memories I did have of anything sexual with Josh, my high school boyfriend, didn't come close to what I wanted Evan to do to me. It was like this hockey player had taken over my mind and jumbled it with dirty thoughts. I wasn't sure if Evan was attracted to me that way, but his body language told me another story. His kisses added the words and his touches added page numbers.

My heart gave me a kick, reminding me that I was in his bed. He obviously wanted me close to him.

Before I came to Chicago, I had one boyfriend growing up, Josh, and we never had sex, but we did everything else imaginable during those three years. Then one day we had decided it was time. We were on the Oregon coast at his parents' house the day my family was killed. Josh and I, having been together for years, were going to do it that weekend. It was actually a big deal, too. We'd been planning it for a few weeks, giddy first time lovers wanting to show their love.

Then I had gotten the phone call about my family the day we were at the beach, and it just never happened. After they died Josh and I grew apart. His sister was on that plane with my brother and my family. Neither one of us handled it the way we should have. Instead of something bringing us closer together so we could be there for each other, Josh pushed me away.

In the fall, he left for college in California, and I never heard from him again. I had just graduated that spring and stayed home after they died. I tried to move, but ended up leaving that November when my parents' house was foreclosed on. After paying for the funerals for three people, and various bills that came along with that, I didn't have enough money to pay what was left on their mortgage.

I had no money and no place to live. That was when I ended up in Chicago at Ballet Chicago looking for work. I had always loved to dance, ballet mostly, so it was the perfect gig for me to not only dance but earn some money and make a life for myself.

Then my life was turned upside down again. My mom always told me to make the best of the situation you were handed. Well, I was handed a really shitty situation and then shit on again. Now I was looking for less shit and maybe some water to wash away the other shit.

Evan was the water.

Game 63 – Edmonton Oilers

Wednesday, March 5, 2010

I got a text from him first thing the next morning before his morning skate. They were back in Chicago and set to play the Edmonton Oilers, a team he wasn't sure how they'd fair against. I distracted him by telling him that his sheets smelled like me now.

So you're still in my bed?

I had to laugh. He couldn't let it go.

Nope. In your shower.

There was no reply for a good forty-five minutes.

Eventually, I did get a response but he avoided the topic of the shower and his bed after that. I only gathered it was because he had a game that night and was trying to stay focused.

He continued to send me texts the rest of the day. Apparently, Leo had caught on to his texting and sent me a picture of Evan scowling, his arm stretched out like he was trying to get his phone back. It was adorable.

Leo got my number out of the phone and started with his own text messages, all thoroughly amusing because they were pictures of Evan with captions. In one of them he was hunched over on the plane reading a message on his phone.

Leo's caption read:
Look at him all happy. He has no idea what's going on. Stupid fuck is clueless.

I couldn't wait to meet Leo. He seemed really cool and was already giving me loads of information about hockey and terms to use. The next text was:
Your boy had a nice pole drag in the third period and stuffed the puck in the net to win it for us. I love him. Seriously, I think I'm in love with him.

Leo was a crack up. I had no idea what pole drag meant. I assumed it was a trick or something.

Evan ended up calling me before the game when they were in the locker room, laughter and loud catcalls rang throughout the room as the boys teased Evan about calling me. He didn't seem to mind at all and played along.

I never felt pressured around him. I felt comfortable, like I had known him my entire life. He seemed to know exactly what to say before I even knew I needed to hear it. His whole family was like that.

We were just sitting down to watch the game when Evan's grandmother came in. I only knew it was his grandmother because his dad told me. "Watch out for Granny B," he warned, giving me a soft smile. "The lady is off her fucking rocker."

I had to bite back a laugh by covering my mouth as his dad watched this feeble old woman scoot across the room to sit in the rocking chair near the window, her foamy Chicago Blackhawks finger in her hand and wearing her Masen #5 jersey. Before she sat down, she looked at me. "It's a great day for a ball game!"

Sam looked at me. "See what I mean?"

Again, I had to bite back a laugh.

It was nice seeing his family all gathered around the television watching him. Even a few of their neighbors came over.

Evan was more aggressive this game than he was the last. He was in a fight within the first two minutes of the game and then sat the rest of the first period in the penalty box all because one of the Oilers players checked Leo into the boards pretty hard.

"Evan is powerful, both physically and emotionally. You'll never meet another guy like him. He has a huge heart, always has." Judy laughed, explaining Evan's actions as to why he was defending Leo. "I always tell him he's that way because I had him on Valentine's Day."

I gave Judy a smile. "My brother was born on Valentine's Day, too. They were the same age."

She gave me a tender smile of her own, as if to apologize for bringing it up. "I'm sorry, dear."

"Don't be."

"You gotta make those catches!" Granny B yelled at the television, tossing her foamy finger.

Granny B was Judy's mom, and she lived in their basement. She was…interesting, to say the least. I understood completely why she was living with them because if not for them, someone would have had that woman committed to a mental hospital. She was entertaining.

Evan sent me a text that night after the game. They lost to the Oilers, but his mood seemed upbeat, all things considered. He said he had a game Friday night and wanted to know if I wanted to come to it. That meant I would be leaving first thing in the morning to get back to Chicago in time to see the game. I wasn't flying. I wasn't sure I ever would. When I had left Oregon, I just got on a bus and went with it. Chicago was where I decided to stay. My reason for staying? The dance studio was there, but also because the Chicago Cubs were Andrew's favorite baseball team.

I sent Evan a text telling him I would love to see a home game, so he agreed to come get me in the morning and drive me back to Chicago. When he left me here a few days ago, he had left his car at the airport, so that made traveling a little easier.

Lying there in his bed again that night, I thought about asking Evan if I could stay with him at his apartment. I liked it here, but it felt weird. I missed Evan.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do now that I was out of the hospital. I didn't have to worry about all those medical bills because Evan graciously took care of them, but honestly, I kind of felt like I was his charity case.

I knew I wouldn't be able to be on my own just yet; just the thought of being alone right now gave me anxiety.

Going back to the dance studio wasn't what I wanted either.

What was my problem?

Honestly, I kind of missed Evan and being around him. I had no idea where things were going with him, but the sparks were there, and the warmth of his friendship was something I craved. It left me very confused.

Face off – This is the method of starting play. This is the dropping of the puck by the official between the sticks of two opposing players standing one stick length apart with stick blades flat on the ice. It's used to begin each period or to resume play when it has stopped for other reasons.

Before I was coherent that morning, I was hard, thoughts of Ami and those starry blue eyes, pink skin, freckled nose, and those adorably pouty lips filling my head.
Fuck
.

I had no idea what time it was and didn't really care. She was in my thoughts. Turning to the side, I peeked one eye open to see that the sun was rising over the city. Closing my eyelids tighter, I thought about how I teased Ami and the little sounds she made.

My heart beat faster. My hand went to my dick while my mind spun with want and heat and memories of her.

I thought about the first time I kissed her and the little moan she let out, like she'd been waiting on that fucking kiss her entire life, and I'm hard, so fucking hard. Aching, I closed my eyes tighter, thinking about starry blue and soft skin. I thought about what it would be like, what she would feel like clinging to me the first time. I think about her being mine.

I groaned and gripped hard, wanting her so fucking bad. I wanted her right here, right now, in this bed. Tightening my grip, I moved with intent…but…it was no use because once I saw those images, others flashed in my head, and I was reminded that I couldn't. I couldn't have her this way.

My stomach clenched, burned through the need to finish, but it vanished. I blinked, the memories gone.

Every morning was like that. I wanted her and those thoughts wouldn't leave, but it wasn't right.

Just thinking about why those thoughts weren't right, well, that led to me wanting to find the guy and beat the shit out of him because I couldn't have this perfect girl...because of him. I wanted to give the guy everything she went through.

The part that got me was her seeming so unfazed by it all, as though it didn't really happen. To be fair, in her mind it didn't happen. She remembered nothing.

Then I would get ahead of myself and think if she didn't remember, well then it would be okay to fall for her, right?

After practice Thursday morning, Leo and I were packing our skates and sticks. Without looking up, I turned slightly toward him. "Someone got pretty rough with Callie the other night," I told him, my voice barely above a whisper.

I hadn't told anyone, but Callie had come over to my place with a swollen right eye the other night when we got back from New York. She wanted to watch a movie. She never did say what happened, but after Ami, it didn't sit well with me.

Leo stopped for a moment, and without looking, he nodded and then we went back to what we were doing.

Though we knew Callie got around, there was an agreement between us: we looked out for her. Leo, Remy, and I, even Travis, we protected that girl and didn't appreciate someone getting rough when she didn't ask for it.

I knew Callie could take care of herself, too, but I felt Leo needed to know. He would never admit it, but Callie was the one girl he couldn't get his mind off of lately. They'd had a drunk encounter, maybe more than one, and she moved on. I think if Leo had his way, she'd still be in his bed.

I flew home to Pittsburgh that afternoon to see Ami with plans of bringing her back to Chicago.

Flying into the city, the skyline caught my eye. When I thought about Pittsburgh, I thought about my childhood, and when I thought about my childhood, street hockey, frozen hands, and red cheeks came to mind.

I thought about how I fell in love with the sport.

It was an image I had of my dad and his buddies and my best friends growing up, all great memories.

The streets of this city were a training ground. We weren't thinking we would ever make it to the NHL. We dreamed of it, yeah, but we never thought it would really happen. Now when I drove down my childhood street, I was reminded of what it meant to me that I had the opportunity to become what I had.

Only now, it meant a little more because I had a lot to be thankful for. Take Andrew for example. He had the same upbringing as me, experienced the same single-minded athlete mentality, but just as he was about to see that dream come true, he was killed.