Man Candy, page 15
“You could quit,” Theo tossed out there.
“Quit my job?” I asked. “How am I going to pay my bills?”
I didn’t have a James fortune or a contract with a professional hockey team. Sure, I wanted to become successful enough with my writing to quit, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen anytime soon, no matter how fast I typed.
Bridget gave me a soft smile and nodded. She understood, even though she was living in this big fancy house now. Mav would take care of her financially, no question. She wanted to work, to make her mark. She was still waiting to hear about the long-term sub job at the high school. She wanted to work no matter how many zeroes she’d have in her bank account once she and Mav married.
Because they were going to. I knew it. They knew it. Scout probably even knew it.
Mallory frowned. “Well, that sucks. But please tell me you’re having one hell of a fling with Dex and his hockey stick. That he’s scored. Again and again. Maybe he’s been rough, and you’ve allowed him into your penalty bo–”
“Okay then,” Theo said, hopping to his feet. “Hamburger, anyone?”
30
DEX
* * *
The time difference between Finland and Montana was a bitch. When I arrived, Lindy was asleep. In my bed. I didn’t text because I didn’t want to wake her. I went right to the rink where the exhibition game was going to happen and I connected with my team. We had hours of practice before media time.
Lined up outside the boards were news outlets from all over the world, ready to interview players. It was like a receiving line at a wedding, but we were hockey players in our home team’s uniforms and skates.
Sports Now was first.
“How’s the off season going?” the guy asked. He was American and had on jeans and a t-shirt with his company’s logo on it. It reminded me of Mav in the coffee shop shirt.
“It’s great to be here with so many talented players,” I said.
“Back in June, you were keeping that right hook warmed up for the ice.”
“You mean the incident that’s spread across social media.” I was being clear on what he was talking about.
“That’s right.”
“I made my statement after it happened, and I stand by it.” I wasn’t giving him anything new. I protected a woman, and she didn’t need to be dragged back into the spotlight over something so minor as a douchebag’s broken nose. If I wasn’t Dex James, the incident would have been nothing more than a little action for the bar’s bouncers instead of making sports news.
“You must be feeling pretty lucky your girlfriend–the one we’ve all seen you with in Montana, of all places–doesn’t mind you’re an enforcer off the ice.”
Enforcers were usually fourth line and took care of any opposing team players who wanted to fuck with a first or even second line guy like me, or the goalie. They were the ones who had the on-ice fights. I never got into them because no one wanted risking me getting hurt by a sucker punch or a broken hand. My job was to score, not fight. But off ice?
The guy’s question was a double middle finger to me. He was calling out my personal life and the bullshit spin the media put on the bar fight.
I bristled, but I was being filmed. Every nuance of my demeanor, my tone, my words, were going to be scrutinized. He was trying to stir up shit because there was nothing else on me. He knew it.
I did interviews all the time during the season. There was a Silvermines PR person who worked with all the players on how to talk to the press and I used everything I’d learned over the years. Stay calm, stay positive, be brief, don’t rant, tell the truth. I grinned and pointed at myself. “My woman, lucky? Hell, I’m the lucky one. It’s better than the draft, being a first-round pick by someone as perfect as she is.”
31
LINDY
* * *
I spent all day Saturday writing. I even put on my noise canceling headphones to block out the world. While Dex’s neighbors didn’t have any tall trees, I wasn’t taking any chances with any kind of distraction. I hadn’t gotten as far as I wanted in my story this week, and I needed to get through as much as I could. Since Dex now knew what I was up to, I’d been waiting for him to somehow read my draft. But other than him mentioning it once in bed, he hadn’t pushed.
With Dex away, I got into the zone and wrote, although my muse was with me and telling me all the naughty things to add. I didn’t even go to the grocery store with my list, just ate leftover pizza from the other night. On Sunday, Lucy joined me in a writing sprint on the video chat after she dropped off her daughter at a birthday party.
“Top of the hour. Share,” she said, her face in a little window in the bottom corner of my laptop. We wrote in thirty-minute intervals, then took a break.
I sat back, rubbed my eyes. “Chapter fourteen,” I told her. “I’m getting a snack.”
Climbing from the chair, I stretched and went to the counter and grabbed a banana from the bunch in a bowl.
“Holy shit, Lind. That’s… wow. So good. I’m loving this story. And it’s hot as hell.”
I dropped into the seat. Her praise meant so much because our author-friend rule had always been to be brutally honest. There were so many chapters and scenes we’d tweaked or cut entirely because of each other’s advice.
“Thanks,” I said, peeling the banana. “It’s been quick to write. I’ll definitely be able to finish for the editor in time and I don’t have to panic about the pre-order.”
“You’ve definitely gotten the words in since last week, but I can’t believe all that’s happened. I mean, right after we talked that tree fell on your house!”
While we hadn’t video chatted or written together since last Saturday, we emailed and I told her about the house.
“Yeah, God. It’s crazy. Mav–that’s Bridget’s boyfriend–has pretty much taken over getting everything fixed.”
“He seems like a really great guy. But I don’t want to hear about him. I want to hear about his brother. I told you he was your muse. The guy who put that smile on your face and inspiration to write the sexiest sex scene in the West.” She fanned herself and laughed.
“He’s… inspirational,” I said, choosing my words carefully.
“Tell me his dick’s bigger than that banana.”
I glanced at the just peeled fruit, waved it in front of the camera.
“It is.”
“And you’ve gotten your face that close to it.”
I grinned. “I have.”
“Then get off the computer and go get that big banana.”
“That big banana is in Finland.” I took a bite of the one in my hand. Definitely smaller in my mouth than Dex’s.
That thought made me feel happy, excited and aroused all at once. I was having a fling with a fun, hot man. I knew what his dick felt like in my mouth. And that made me hot. And lonely.
“For an exhibition hockey game,” I added, because clearly Lucy didn’t follow hockey any more than I did. I glanced at the clock on my screen. “Which is tonight. Or soon since they’re ahead nine hours.” Yeah, I checked the time difference.
“Oh. Then get off the phone and go watch your man in action.”
“He’s my fling, not my man,” I clarified, making sure she knew it couldn’t get serious. I was making sure I knew it wasn’t getting serious. Although I was sitting in his house, my bathroom products mixed in with his. Our laundry was piled together in the hamper.
“Riiiiiiight.”
A knock on the door had me looking up. Bridget and Mallory came in, arms loaded down with reusable grocery bags. Mallory, as usual, was dressed in cute shorts with a striped shirt. Her hair was half up-half down and she had on makeup. Bridget was in cut-off jean shorts, a white tank top, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. I went shopping more with Mallory when the girls were young than Bridget.
“We brought snacks for the hockey game,” Bridget announced.
“Gotta watch Sexy Dexy in action,” Mallory added.
God, that nickname was awful. But he was sexy.
I glanced at Lucy on the screen. “Mallory and Bridget are here to do that. Gotta go.”
Lucy waved at me, and I slammed the lid shut on my laptop. I popped the last piece of banana in my mouth as they put the bags on the kitchen counter.
“Chips and salsa. Hummus. Spicy barbecue chips,” Mallory listed as she pulled things out.
“Guac?” I asked.
Bridget pulled two avocados from her bag. “Happening.”
“I’ve never watched a game knowing a player before. This is so exciting,” Mallory said.
“Where are the guys?” I asked, pulling flavored seltzers from the fridge. Mav wasn’t usually far from Bridget these days.
In the week I’d been living with Dex–no, living in Dex’s house–I learned he was a partial health nut. Of course he exercised. He didn’t need to be on a pro hockey team for me to know that. I only had to get him naked and touch every inch of that hard, muscled body.
He didn’t like gratuitous sugar–his words–in things like soda and his idea of a snack was fruit.
So I’d compromise on that and have guac and seltzer with my spicy chips. Avocado was a fruit.
“Went for a hike,” Mallory said. “They’ve seen Dex play before.”
“Have you talked to him since he left?” Bridget asked.
I shook my head. “Just a few texts but not back and forth. He said they’re on a crazy schedule.”
“Did you watch his interview?” Bridget asked.
“No. Why?”
“He didn’t tell you about it?” She glanced at Mallory, just like when they were little and had a shared secret.
“Out with it.” I curled my fingers in a gimme gesture.
Mallory pulled out her phone and did some swiping. “Here.” She thrust it at me.
It was a sports website and I clicked on the video. A sportscaster was asking Dex a question. He was in his Silvermines uniform, helmet on his head, hockey stick in hand. He was sweaty and flushed. From playing hockey, not sex with me. Although I’d seen that sweaty and flushed look before when he was naked.
You must be feeling pretty lucky your girlfriend–the one we’ve all seen you with in Montana of all places–doesn’t mind you’re an enforcer off the ice.
I sucked in a breath and flicked my gaze at the girls.
Her, lucky? Hell, I’m the lucky one. It’s better than the draft, being a first-round pick by someone as perfect as she is.
Ohmygod. Oh. My. God.
“You sure it’s a fling?” Bridget whispered when I handed the phone back to Mallory.
I didn’t answer, just went over his words again and again as I grabbed some of the snacks and settled on the couch. I busied myself by pulling up the game on a satellite sports channel while the girls finished making the guac and set the spread on the coffee table.
The game started after a bunch of fancy pregame stuff including national anthems.
“God, he’s hot,” Mallory said at least seventeen times through the first and second periods.
In my mind, I said it every time Dex was on the ice. I didn’t know skating was sexy, but the way he moved was effortless. Like at the kids’ practices, but with intensity. He shoved a guy into the boards, then he got taken out, but popped right back up. Even watching him guzzle from a water bottle on the bench was hot.
He was in his element playing hockey. Especially when he scored the third time which was something called a hat trick, per the announcer.
“Please tell me you offered him some kind of sex motivation to score three goals,” Mallory urged, staring at the TV and watching Dex skate down the boards and getting gloved high fives from his teammates for the latest goal.
“What?” I asked on a laugh.
“Does he get a BJ for every goal?” Mallory asked. “For the hat trick, does he get anal?”
Bridget was taking a sip of her drink and spit it all over Mallory.
“I don’t want to know about Lindy and anal, okay?” Bridget said, glancing at her BFF.
“Please, you totally gave up that hole for Mav.”
I stared at Mallory wide eyed. While I knew Bridget wasn’t a virgin, it was hard for me to separate the little girl I raised with the woman who might be having anal sex.
“You need to get laid instead of thinking about Lindy’s sex life,” Bridget told her.
Mallory nodded. “I do. I sooooo do. I’m waiting for Theo, obviously. If he can perform surgery on a brain or spleen or something, imagine what those hands can do with a g-spot.”
Bridget looked at me. I looked at Bridget. We laughed. And laughed.
“What? I’m not wrong,” Mallory added.
I didn’t think she was. But Theo seemed to be a tough nut to crack, but if anyone could do it, it’d be her.
When I was wiping my eyes with a napkin, Mallory piped up again. “Just because he’s away doesn’t mean you can’t do sexy times. I bet you haven’t had phone sex. Or video chat sex.”
“She’s been in his bed, so why does she need to phone it in?” Bridget asked, taking another sip of her drink.
“He’s in Finland.” Mallory turned to face me. “I’m not getting any, Lindy. It’s clear since I’m all up in your sex life. So please, please have video chat sex with that man later. He’s earned it.”
She was right. The idea was hot. And would be amazing in my book. I wasn’t telling either of them I was game. I shrugged, playing it cool.
“I’m so impressed with you, Lindy Beckett,” Mallory gushed.
“Why?” I scooped some guac onto a chip.
“Bagging a professional hockey player. He’s gorgeous. Nice. Talented. And he’s soooo into you. Plus, he has a magical dick,” Mallory added.
“I didn’t say that Aspen did,” I clarified while crunching on the chip. “But it’s true.”
He sooooo did.
32
DEX
* * *
I dropped onto the edge of my bed with a heavy sigh as I tugged on my tie to loosen it.
The organizers had us players busy non-stop. We weren’t in the country as tourists. Even game day, we were up early and at the rink practicing. After, there was another media gauntlet. I knew most of the other players from games, some even from the Silvermines but were traded. We were all here to give the fans a good time and the competitive level of the game was lower, we played hard.
By the time it was all over, and I finally got to my hotel room, I was exhausted.
Lindy and I had texted, but never connecting. When I was on the ice, she was sleeping. When I was sleeping, she was up. It sucked.
I knew being away from her was going to be tough, but for some reason I felt it this trip. While playing hockey was my life, for the first time I felt like I left something behind. That I was being pulled.
It was going to be worse during the regular season, but there was no option. Every player who had a spouse or significant other were separated for stretches. It was part of the game, but the main reason Lindy didn’t want to get serious.
She was in my house. In my bed. But that was as far as it went. She wanted permanent, forever, the picket fence and kids in Hunter Valley. I respected her decision and she had been honest about it from the start. But I felt like we were doomed and being so far away, I couldn’t do anything to sway her. In fact, it was only proving her point. Even in the few months I had off, I still had commitments to the team and my contract.
I couldn’t break my deal with the Silvermines even if I wanted to. I’d never even considered the possibility, until now. I felt like I was being forced to choose between hockey and Lindy. The legalese of my contract and Lindy herself said I couldn’t have both.
Lindy wasn’t going to leave Montana. Hell, I didn’t think she’d ever leave her house.
When my cell chimed, I nabbed it. My heart raced as if I got a breakaway with the puck.
* * *
Sugar: Great game!
* * *
I smiled. No, fuck, I all out grinned. My brothers watched some of my games. Not all, because there were eighty-two in a season. Plus, exhibition games like the one I just played. And playoffs. They didn’t stay CEOs or become doctors by sitting around watching hockey all the time. But Lindy? It felt different, this satisfaction, knowing she’d watched.
* * *
Me: Thanks. It was fun.
* * *
I wasn’t banged up and bruised like a regular season game. This one didn’t count toward a team’s record since it was just for fun. While it was for the league and advertisers to make money, the players got to do what we all loved. Play. No pressure. There were less hits. No fights.
* * *
Sugar: Did I wake you?
Me: I’m amped from the game.
* * *
And her texts.
* * *
Sugar: I have something for you for when you get home. A present for your hat trick.
* * *
Now I was intrigued.
* * *
Me: What is it?
* * *
There was no response right away and just when I was ready to type back some question marks, a photo appeared.
“Holy fuck.”
I was instantly hard. It was a selfie of Lindy kneeling on our bed in a turquoise nightie. It had sexy little cutouts that hinted at her bare skin, including the bottom curves of her breasts. I pressed my hand against my dick to calm it down.
* * *
Me: Now. I want my present now.
Sugar: You’re not here.
* * *
