Delayed Penalty (35 page)

Celly – A celebration when a goal is scored.

On the surface, Evan wanted to have a good time and be the twenty-one-year-old kid that he was. When people really needed him, he was the most dependable guy. What I loved about Evan from the very beginning was that he wore his heart unabashedly on his sleeve. He didn't play games with my heart or my head.

He was gentle in ways you would have never expected a guy like him to be. When the darkness colored my mind, he was with me, bringing with him the light I needed.

His sense of humor, his kindness, his warmth, his courage, and his quiet confidence inspired me. There was only one side to Evan. Through his family and friends, I learned it was the same side he showed everyone. If he was mad, you knew it. If he was happy, you felt it and lived it, and if he loved you, he showed it and you believed it.

When you thought about it, our presence in the world was actually very small. It was our presence in the lives of others that made the world what it was. Every word we said, every gesture we made, every detail connected you to that presence you made whether you knew it or not.

When bad things happened, they happened. There was nothing you could do about it.

You tried to prepare and tell yourself you'd be okay, but the truth was you were never prepared. You had to keep in mind that there was an end to everything. There was a beginning, a middle, and eventually an end, whether you wanted there to be one or not. It was all about surviving it.

"What do hockey players do during the off-season?" I asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Leo, Remy, and Callie were over, all sitting around drinking beer and eating pizza.

Evan cleared his throat, obviously wanting to say something dirty, but he hesitated with his boys around, not wanting to embarrass me.

Instead, he nodded to his bedroom with a wink. As discretely as I could, I got up and walked down the hall to his room. He followed along with me, screams and whistles coming from the living room.

I wasn't sure how long it lasted, two, maybe three minutes, but I'd never felt as desired as I did when Evan clutched at me so desperately, gasping my name over and over again.

He held me there against the wall, both of us panting.

"What is it that they do?" I grinned with a mischievous smile.

"They have sex, Ami. Lots of sex." He chuckled, knowing I wouldn't let it go.

Evan was right. They had lots of sex. Lots. The other thing they did was enjoy some much needed time off. I wasn't working. Evan didn't want me to just yet, so instead we went on vacations. We spent a lot of time with his parents, and then finally, Evan asked if I wanted to go to Oregon for the weekend.

The truth was, I was scared to go back, but I knew eventually I'd need to. I hadn't been back to Lebanon since November. I used to think our small town, buried in the middle of nowhere, had everything I ever needed. It was a place where nothing happened and nothing would change. But things did change.

The hometown hero, that would put this small town on the map for making it big, died in a plane crash, just as his dreams were taking off.

Then I remembered that despite this, despite the tragedy that took my family, despite the brutal attack on me when I was trying to move on, the sun would still rise and set over this small town because it was here where I was born and raised. It was here where that hometown hero was raised, and it was here where I finally realized that just because you ran away from home didn't mean that all of you left.

As soon as I saw my old house, I felt my heart clench at memories I tried to keep hidden.

They were woven into everything I did.

I knew that eventually I needed to go back for closure. That happened late that summer when Evan wanted to come with me.

"So this is Lebanon, Oregon, eh?"

"Yes. Nothing but farms and a race track," I said, trailing off a little when I thought about what else was here. "And a baseball field."

"I'd like to see it, if you want me to."

"The baseball field?"

"Yes," he whispered with a low exhale. "If it gets me a little closer to knowing you, I want to see it."

"You already know me."

He shook his head, scrunching his nose from the cow shit smell that seemed to always settle here. "I know the Chicago you. I don't know the small-town girl who was born and raised in the town. I want to know her, too."

I wasn't sure what his reaction would be, but he surprised me.

I gave him a watery smile as my unsteady fingers wiped away the tears.

"Ami..." he breathed, his voice nearly silent. I stared at him, waiting for him to say something more. "They'll always be with you." His fingers touched my cheek, sweeping the tears away, and then trailed down my neck, over my collarbone to my chest where he tapped right below my locket with his index finger. "They'll be right here, always."

People have told me that my description of my family was bare and that my voice got a faraway tone to it. Maybe it did, I wasn't conscious of it; the memory burned hot and deep. I knew that. When I talked about them, the memory was a very vivid one, to me at least. It didn't feel faraway.

"When did you know you were in love with me?"

He nodded, staring down at our hands as his fingers laced with mine. "When I walked into that hospital room and you looked at me for the first time, I was done." He looked up at me then, and I knew exactly what he meant because when I saw him that night, I couldn't breathe having heard that voice before and seeing that face in my mind. "Then you smiled and wrecked me."

The warmth of his touch through my tank top served as a reminder that I wasn't alone. Never again, I was sure of that.

"The night I left for Chicago, this was the last place I went," I said, pointing to the ball field where I'd spent nearly every day with Andrew growing up. I looked up at the sky and felt it for the first time. They were watching over me. They brought me this all-heart boy to show me I still had someone to live for. I had enough heart for all three of them right here in Evan Masen.

"There's times when I feel a shiver, and suddenly I remember every detail about them. Then there's times where I can't remember what they look like, and it scares me to think someday their memory will be gone."

"It won't." He tapped my chest again and winked. "They're right there."

Evan was right. It wouldn't. They would forever be in my heart.

I took Evan around Lebanon and visited my grandmother, my only living family besides my aunts and uncles that I avoided. After my parents died they all wanted me to live with them, forced it actually, but it wasn't what I wanted. Legally speaking, my grandmother was my guardian until I turned eighteen. When I told her I needed to leave, she understood and never asked questions. It had to have been hard for her that I left, and she didn't know what happened to me, but she understood why.

Evan enjoyed her. They talked for a while. She was a huge San Jose fan and asked about the fight between Evan and Dave.

Calmly and better than I expected, Evan told our story to her. He told her about finding me and staying with me and falling in love with me. The entire time he was telling the story, I just stared at him, entranced in the voice, yes, but captivated by the heart he put into the detail of how he remembered everything.

Until then, I had never heard him talk in detail about how he found me, what he witnessed and why he stayed. Now, hearing him tell it, I don't think I could have possibly loved him more after knowing what he did for me.

When we got back from Oregon, we went back to Pittsburgh to spend some time with his family. After the trip back to my hometown, I realized that wasn't where my family was any longer. I promised to keep in touch with the ones I had, but it was here, at this table in the Quaker Steak and Lube in Pittsburgh, surrounded by hockey players and Evan's family. That was my family now.

It was the middle of summer, late July, and I really shouldn't have been wearing a jacket but I was, intending on teasing Evan. I was wearing shorts and had this long gray jacket on over that. It looked odd now that I thought about it, and Evan noticed.

"Take your coat off," he said, looking over the menu. "It's hot in here. Aren't you hot?"

"Nah, I'm cold." I grinned coyly, keeping my eyes on the menu.

"Why's that? What you got under there?" he asked suspiciously, playfully pulling at the collar of my coat.

I unbuttoned the first button and then smiled. "Nothing…" I wasn't lying, I had nothing but the jacket and shorts on. No bra.

"Keep that fucking coat on." He smirked and shook his head, shifting in his seat and then draping his arm over the back of my chair. "This is almost as bad as you sleeping in my childhood bed."

"Why, are you turned on, Mase?" I felt like I had just scored the winning goal in overtime from the look on his face

"Hell yes I'm turned on," he informed me as he wrapped his arms around me and stroked the outside of my jacket, bunching the material between his fingers. "We need to leave." He went from telling me to keep the coat on to trying to rip it off.

I was pretty sure I choked on my own tongue, but I kept my cool. "Nah, I'm hungry."

Evan groaned, his head falling forward to rest against the table as his family showed up.

Evan seemed very agitated because of what I had done, so I decided I was going to be brave and try what Callie had said. Public indecency.

"We only have a few minutes," I whispered. "There's a bathroom down the hall."

"And I only need a few seconds."

His kiss was intoxicating as ever, lips moving so softly over mine with just the slightest hint of tongue. I felt my head spinning in a way that made me feel breathless, dizzy, but also just right.

"That's all, huh?"

Laughing, he bent to kiss my cheek. "What can I say, you do things to me. Good things. Dirty things." He looked at his dad who'd just walked in. "We'll be right back."

"Yeah, sure." Sam said, rolling his eyes.

We found a bathroom down the hall in the restaurant. Evan turned and locked the door. The look in his eyes gave me no doubt that he was going to hold true to his promise. Or threat for that matter.

"Well look at that!" Evan quirked his brow and leaned forward, pushing me against the wall. "You weren't lying about nothing being under this coat."

"Nope."

The coat was removed quickly. It was another one of those times when my hockey player showed me about his sprinting speed and his endurance to get the job done in a penalty kill situation. He was on his game, and I could now understand Callie's remark about Evan making her scream in a matter of seconds.

His slow, even strokes grew slightly more forceful as I felt myself getting there. Broken moans and quiet sighs filled the bathroom stall as he hunched over me, releasing my hips to move his hands to the door of the stall, gaining the exact angle I needed.

His cheek pressed into my neck, and he buried his head in my skin with a moan as he released into me.

My legs dropped from around his waist, our limbs tangling together as he shifted, trying to get me back to a standing position without falling.

"Like I said, I only needed seconds."

I winked, righting my clothing. Just as I was about to leave, he stopped me. "I love you, Ami," he said seriously, his eyes imploring me to believe him. And I did.

"I love you, too," I said softly, then looking up into his eyes, clarified, "always have." I knew he understood what that meant because I loved him for so many reasons.

Evan, my all heart and soul knight in shining armor defenseman took me in, saved my life when I had no one left, and showed me a love I'd never in my life imagined feeling. A love that no matter what was thrown at it, it broke free.

There were times when my mind would lose just a fraction of my will to go on. Any self-pity and I would look at Evan and his ability to just be himself, and I would see why it was I needed him.

There was something insanely intimate with the way he watched me in that moment, a reminder I wasn't far from his thoughts and never would be.