Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three (38 page)

BOOK: Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three
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46
Emily’s Quest

I
was working
on a research project for Betty that had stretched into the early Friday evening. But I was ready to pull an all-nighter to get this done. Phil had Saturday off, and we had talked about doing a really long hike, maybe the Lions or Panorama Ridge. I was looking forward to that.

I had a bunch of binders spread out on the table in the small boardroom, when there was a knock on the half-open door.

Anders stuck his head in. “Hey, Kelly. I ran into this lady at the front desk. She was looking for you.”

I got up. “Thanks, I’ll go and see—”

Then Emily Campbell pushed the door wide open. “Hi Kelly. I hope you don’t mind that I came right in.” She turned to thank Anders, and then closed the door behind her.

Sheeit. I had no idea why Emily wanted to see me, but it wasn’t going to be a love-fest. From what Phil had said, she still wanted to date him when I had come along. Luckily there was a boardroom window so that anyone in the bullpen could see us. I was pretty sure that I could take Emily, but she struck me more as the armed and dangerous type. Maybe she had borrowed Exhibit A from her latest murder trial.

“How are you?” she began politely. She was wearing a navy suit and white blouse. Her clothes looked corporate and intimidating.

“I’m good. How are you?” I pushed a stack of papers aside and straightened out my shirt. My clothes looked corporate and wrinkled.

“Fine. I’m sure you’re surprised to see me, so I’ll get right to the point.” She leaned back in her chair and linked her fingers together. It was a masterful pause. “I saw Phil the other day. We ran into each other on the street.”

“Really?” Phil hadn’t mentioned this to me, but why would he?

“Kelly, if you saw a diamond lying on the sidewalk, what would you do?”

Was this some kind of trick? I closed one eye. “Pick it up?”

“Exactly!” she said. I felt bizarrely proud, like a dog that had accidentally performed a trick. Emily continued, “No one would ever walk by and leave something so valuable lying there, would they?”

I shook my head, but luckily I had no tail to wag.

“Then why on earth are you not dating Phil?”

“Phil and I see each other all the time—we’re friends.”

“Friends. I assume you’re holding him off because you’re still ‘heart-broken….’” She made air quotes here. “…from your big break-up with James Frechette.”

“Look, Emily, I don’t see how my relationships are your business.”

“It’s a matter of algebra, or perhaps logic. A loves B. But B loves C. Now the question is, who does C love? Does she love some stupid jock who obviously wasn’t good enough, or is she smart enough to see the diamond in front of her?”

I waited. Her voice had lost its confident tone and now had an undertone of real emotion.

Emily’s eyes were glistening. “I thought when he got back with you he’d be happy, but he’s not. I could see that the moment I laid eyes on him. And because I still love him, I’m putting myself out. I figured I could talk some sense into the person who can make him happy. What excuse do you have for neglecting Phil?”

“I, uh, I don’t know.” While I initially felt like booting Emily’s expensively-clad ass out of the boardroom, now I was struck by the fact that she cared so much for Phil that she came to see me—someone she probably despised—to plead his case.

And she was right. He had been nothing but patient and understanding. In return, I had given him my company but not the rest of myself. I still spent way too much time moping and remembering.

“Well, I’ve dealt with a fair number of abuse victims—” Emily began.

“What? I am not an abuse victim.” Holy crap, it was one thing to be a little wary after breaking up with someone and another to be typed as a victim.

She held up a hand. “I am not saying that you are. I only wanted to say that people react to a bad situation in different ways. Some people see it as a lesson, and move on to better things. Other people keep perpetuating the problem. It’s wrong to take the blame for what happened and keep on punishing yourself.”

“I’m not punishing myself. You know, Emily, we hardly know each other.”

“I realize that. But life is short—I see everyday how crappy things randomly happen to good people.
Carpe diem
.”

She paused and watched my reaction. I understood exactly what she meant. She decided that more arguments would be overkill, then got up and left without another word. As she walked away, I noticed that two of the guys in the bullpen were watching her. Emily was an attractive, confident woman. Phil would have been better off with her.

I tried to keep working, but my mind was racing. Emily was right about the way I’d been treating Phil. We’d reached a point where he was afraid to push me because I was acting like a victim. Nobody was happy. I wasn’t happy, and I was holding Phil back from being happy. We’d been dating and fooling around a little, but we hadn’t had sex yet. Phil had made a few overtures, but I felt like Jimmy had left this body shadow on me. I was worried that when I had sex I’d be reminded of him again. What if I called out the wrong name at the crucial moment? Maybe it would be better if I could have sex with someone unimportant and figure out if I was okay, and then have sex with Phil.

However, even the most understanding of guys would not be into that. There was only one honourable thing to do. I had to set Phil free. Who knew when I was going to be a whole person again? It was taking far too long.

I managed to get my project done and left it on Betty’s desk. When I got home, Gino greeted me hungrily, so I fed him, and then collapsed on the couch. I was feeling too emotionally drained to make my own meal.

A knock on the door startled me. I opened it, and Phil was standing there. It had started raining, and his black jacket was slightly splattered.

“Come in,” I said, opening up the door.

“I was driving by on the way home from work, and I saw your light was on.” He gave me a tired smile. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Um, not yet. But it’s good you came by anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” He shed his coat and walked over to the fridge. He’d been stocking it with beer himself, since I kept forgetting. Another girlfriend fail. He popped the cap and stretched out on the couch. “I had a crap day. It’s nice to end it with you.”

What would be really cheering would be ending the day in bed with a real girlfriend. Really, everything was pointing to us breaking up, if you can call it breaking up when you weren’t really going out in the first place. I went over to sit beside him, and he stretched his arm out and pulled me closer.

“Seriously, seeing you is the best thing that’s happened to me since six this morning.” He smiled, and I saw the shadows under his eyes. Why wasn’t I the one who noticed how tired and unhappy he was?

He took a pull of his beer, and I watched the muscles in his neck flexing. Phil made everything he did attractive. And then the cat jumped up between us. Phil scratched Gino’s head with the bottom of the beer bottle, which was adorable. Phil was the perfect guy in so many ways, and he deserved to be appreciated fully.

“I don’t think it’s fair for me to keep seeing you,” I blurted.

“What are you talking about?”

“Our relationship is on hold. I can’t go forward, and I’m holding you back.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you moved on? It’s been months now.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s time. But I haven’t yet, so that’s why I think you’re the one who should move on.”

Phil put down his beer and shifted to face me. There wasn’t room for Gino, so he jumped off in a huff. Phil clasped my hands in his warm ones. “Kel, I told you—I want to be with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes. If that means waiting, so be it. What we have is fine for now.”

“But you’re not happy—”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?”

If I said that Emily told me so, I’d sound like a five-year old. But it was true; he didn’t laugh as much or seem as relaxed as usual. And his face looked so drawn. “Are you happy?” I countered.

“I’m not unhappy. Of course I’d be a lot happier if we were going out for real.” Yeah, like with sex and everything. We were doing a kind of Victorian dating.

“But I don’t know when that’ll be. I don’t want you waiting around for me.”

He released my hands, and his posture stiffened. His face had a wary expression. “Is that what this is all about? It’s really me that you don’t want.”

“No! Phil, it’s not that. It’s me, not you.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve used that line myself. Fine, Kel. If you want to be free, I can’t force you go out with me. I tried to give you all the time and space you wanted, but whatever. Once more, I guess I’m your second choice, but this time you’d rather be alone.”

“It’s not like that,” I said miserably, but he was already heading for the door. What else could I say? I couldn’t be a real girlfriend because I was so screwed up.

“Bye.” He put on his jacket and looked back at me. His hazel eyes met mine, and while his mouth was a straight line. I could read something else there—some kind of conflict. His expression was the exactly same as when he’d broken up with me—almost a year ago. A realization hit me. Phil had told me he didn’t care anymore, but his face had said the opposite:
I still love you, Kelly. Stop me. Tell me I’m wrong and you care too.

I looked up, but Phil was already gone.

What if I’d known that a year ago? Would I have still gone to Chicago? And how did I feel now?

Shit, I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Was I insane? Phil was everything to me right now. Sure, I loved my new job, but every other good thing was due to him. He had taken me hiking and biking, danced with me at crazy indie concerts, and found every decent ethnic restaurant within my budget. He was the one who listened to me enthuse about work and understood when I was down. I’d been taking him for granted—as usual.

I ran outside. It was pouring rain now. Phil’s SUV was pulling away, and I called out, but of course he couldn’t hear me. I booted it over and slammed my hand on the side door. Startled, Phil braked and peered at me. He lowered the window.

“What is it?”

“I was wrong. I do want to go out with you—only you. I’ll be better, I promise.”

He frowned. “Okay. Let me park again, and I’ll come back inside.”

I waited on the sidewalk. I realized my feet were bare, I was getting soaked, and my crabby landlady was peeping at us through the blinds. Phil walked around the car.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded vigourously. “Totally.”

“Let’s not stand out here then.”

Mrs. Cameron was watching us the whole time. “Does she always do that?” Phil asked as we walked back.

“I don’t know. You’re the only guy who comes here. She doesn’t spy on my girlfriends. Maybe she likes you.” My landlady looked like a pudding with eyes.

He smiled. “See, Kelly, I have options.”

He sat down on the couch, and this time I scooted up right next to him.

“Are you sure of what you want?” He didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked more puzzled than anything.

“Yes. As soon as you left, it was like everything good went out of the room—and my life.”

He looked at me in wonder. “Really? Because that’s exactly how I felt when you left.”

“Phil, you’ve been so patient. I think I need to push my limits.” I had made sex into this big deal because it was entwined with everything that had gone wrong with Jimmy. But sex should be a natural part of a relationship.

“That doesn’t sound right. I don’t want to force things. What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“Honestly, it’s too easy to hang out with you. We could go on like this for ages, because everything is so nice. But we both need more—the highs and lows that come with an actual relationship. And, uh, sex.” My voice broke on the last word.

He rolled his eyes. “That sounds like the voice of a mature, decided woman.”

I pouted. “It’s easier for me to show you than talk about it.”

A familiar shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “Then show me.” He stretched out his arms and leaned back on the couch. He looked pretty hot, with his hair slightly long and pushed back from his face, his shirt sleeves rolled up over his tanned forearms, and his confident demeanour.

I climbed onto his lap and plastered myself against him. I kissed the side of his face, his throat, his jawline, and then up to his mouth. He put one hand in my hair and tilted my face towards his. He kissed me hard, with his mouth open and his whole focus on me. This wasn’t like the sweet kisses we’d been having, this was a kiss full of yearning and need. As I kissed him back I felt a wonderful jolt of desire rocketing through me. I was back to normal! All I needed to do was try.

We kept kissing until I felt like my entire apartment was steaming up. I came up for air and noticed that my wet t-shirt had left a damp mark on his shirt.

“Sorry,” I muttered, unbuttoning his shirt. I pulled it open, looked at his smooth chest and smiled.

“It’s not healthy to sit around in wet clothes,” Phil said. He pulled off my t-shirt and then my yoga pants. I realized I had on my work underwear, which was a nude bra and black granny panties. Hardly an outfit made for seduction.

Phil’s eyes widened. “God, you’re so beautiful, Kel.”

Those words were so comforting to me. It was stupid, but knowing I looked good to him as I was—wet hair, hardly any makeup, and nothing fancy on—was wonderful.

I pulled his shirt off. Phil’s body was lean and muscular, and I ran my hands over his firm abs. His hands were busy too, running down my back and cupping my ass. I unzipped his pants and opened them up. The prominent bulge in his boxer briefs made me feel a little breathless with anticipation. I moved down and breathed hot on him, then kissed his cock through the fabric.

“Oh fuck,” Phil groaned. He unsnapped my bra, pulled me back onto his lap, and took one nipple in his mouth and sucking it to a hard point. Then he worked on the other. I was already so turned on, and I couldn’t even remember why I’d hesitated.

“You know the best thing about my apartment?” I asked, as I pulled his boxer briefs down to his thighs.

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