Adrian: An Ironfield Forge Hockey Romance

by Frost, Sosie

  She made for a beautiful, comfortable vision in my bed.

  I liked it.

  And the guilt would ruin me.

  It was late. I was tired. She’d spent most of the night cleaning up after men who belonged in either a hockey rink or a barn yard.

  And she was fertile.

  I owed her a night of passionate, romantic love making. But nothing about tonight had been what I’d intended.

  I wasn’t used to breaking promises to my best friend.

  “How much longer do you think you’ll be…” I didn’t dare speak the word. The towel had already shamed me, tenting from the sight of her sprawled over my bed.

  Clover answered with a flick of her eyebrow. “Fertile?”

  I hardened even more. Fuck me. Clover’s glance lingered over my waist, but she was kind enough not to comment.

  “I took the ovulation test today,” she said. “I’m…good to go.”

  Damn my luck. “Right now?”

  She patted the bed. “Drop the towel, lover boy.”

  Shit.

  This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go.

  Any part of it.

  “Stop it,” she said. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re going to ruin this by being noble.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “If you white knight this instead of getting me pregnant? Yes.”

  “I don’t want…” I gestured over the bed. She played her part well, twisting her legs and inviting me onto the blankets. “To treat you the way I did before.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I promised you I’d control myself tonight.”

  “Stop putting so much pressure on this.” She stretched out with a giggle. “I don’t need the whole enchilada. I’m good with a couple chips and some salsa.”

  “Maybe I’m not.”

  She smoothed the wrinkles from the pillowcase. “Our night together doesn’t have to be something planned out and extravagant. We can…enjoy the moment. Isn’t that what you want?”

  Yes.

  And no.

  I couldn’t have this conversation with a raging erection and no pants. I grabbed a pair of sweats, but it didn’t do any good. Only revealed my vulgar thoughts for her to see.

  “I want it to be special because it’s you, Clover.”

  “I’m not picky.”

  “Well…I am.” And I wasn’t ashamed of it. “Maybe that’s why we’re so good together. I won’t let you settle for something half-assed.”

  “To be clear, I don’t want tonight to be any ass.”

  I ignored her—mostly because that particular thought would’ve ended me right then and there.

  “If we’re going to do this, we should do it right,” I said.

  Clover sighed, biting her lower lip. “You keep talking like that—about wanting things to be perfect and how last time wasn’t right. I can’t help but think…”

  I didn’t like her hesitation. “What?”

  “Was our last night together that…bad?”

  How the fuck was I supposed to explain this to my best friend.

  A woman so forbidden to me that lusting after her made me a terrible, dirty bastard.

  “That night was the best sex I’ve ever had,” I said.

  Her eyes widened—painfully innocent. “You’re not just saying that?”

  I gestured low, toward my inappropriate bulge. “I’ve learned it’s best to not lie about that region of my body.”

  “I’m surprised to hear that.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “You’ve always had your pick of the ladies.”

  “So?”

  “And I’m the best? The virgin? The most inexperienced of all your…conquests?”

  Inexperienced? Sure. She didn’t understand her own desires, but she knew me, and I’d always been the man who understood her best. That was an intimacy I’d never felt with any other woman.

  “You were the most insatiable, hottest, tightest, wildest fuck of my life,” I said.

  She squirmed, almost unsure if she should be embarrassed or proud. I liked that about her. Humility blended with unabashed curiosity.

  Clover nibbled on her lip. “That’s all the foreplay I need. Hop on.”

  “I’m serious. I couldn’t get enough of you last time.” I debated on shutting up. Instead, I went for it. “I think I needed that night more than you did.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Had to prove to myself that I could still…” No need to talk about the injury. She understood. “It was a confidence booster. A good one.”

  “I’m just surprised I’m the one doing the boosting.”

  “You and be both.”

  She smiled, and the brightness nearly seduced me with her perfection. “I mean…why didn’t you have anyone else before now? There’s gotta be dozens of girls out there waiting for you. But you don’t date. Why?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because that’s what normal men do, Adrian. They find a woman. Settle down. Start a family.”

  “Thought I was already doing that.”

  “And you have no regrets that you’re doing it with me?”

  That didn’t make any sense. “Instead of with who?”

  “Anyone else.”

  I sat on the bed, risking revealing a little too much about me and a hell of a lot more skin.

  “I don’t date, Clover,” I said. “I have two important things in my life. First and foremost is you. Second is the team. The game takes up all my time and energy and you steal whatever patience remains.”

  She warned me with a wagging finger. I took her hand and captured her tight.

  “Then I got hurt…” I cleared my throat. “And that sort of injury made taking a woman home complicated.”

  “But you’re healthy now.”

  Yeah, but just as uncomfortable for a different reason.

  Clover leaned in close, her dark skin a lovely contrast to my white sheets. Her toned legs folded beneath her, and the shorts rode up, up, up, cupping her ass in a perfectly modest tease.

  The woman had no idea how beautiful she was—and I had no idea if I was the right man to tell her that truth.

  “I’m healed now, sure. But I never found a woman worth my time.”

  She shifted, and her spicy vanilla scent clouded my every thought.

  “Have you looked?” she asked.

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “But you never found anyone you liked?”

  “No.”

  “What was so wrong with them?”

  That was easy. “They didn’t measure up to my ideal woman.”

  “Oh?” This entertained her. She leaned close, scrunching her nose with a playful giggle. “And what sort of girl attracts the attention of the professional hockey league’s most eligible bachelor?”

  “You should know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m waiting for one like you.”

  Clover quieted. “Oh.”

  “Can’t seem to find anyone as beautiful as you. As exciting as you. As frustrating as you. As compassionate as you…”

  “Sweet talker.”

  I broke into a smile. “You make dating difficult. Hard to find anyone good when I compare every unlucky lady to you.”

  She forced a laugh. “You know how I love to annoy you.”

  “There’s not a woman alive who could annoy me more.”

  She invited me closer, reaching for my hand. Such a simple gesture that never used to mean anything. But now?

  Her fingers squeezed mine with soft comfort. A little secret shared just between us.

  “Do you remember what you said to me after your surgery?” she asked.

  I’d tried to block most of the gory details.

  I took a guess. “No, I’m not going to show you my sutures.”

  “After that.”

  “Yes, I still have two.”

  “After that.”

  “Let me slee
p or I’ll call security.”

  Clover arched an eyebrow. “I’m being serious.”

  “So am I. I don’t remember a fucking thing. They doped me up so I wouldn’t remember.”

  She surrendered with a resigned sigh. “Fair enough. But you said some really sweet things to me that night.”

  “You’re already my life insurance beneficiary, so I’m not sure what else I might’ve promised you.”

  Clover kicked at the blanket just to avoid my gaze. “It wasn’t a promise. You were just…”

  Now I was worried. The drug cocktail had been the good kind—all dizzy and no hangover. That meant I might’ve said or agreed to anything.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You were sweet.”

  “Gonna tell me what I said?”

  Clover’s eyebrows wagged with glee. “Why? Afraid you confessed your undying love to me and begged for a baby?”

  Christ. At least she was joking. “These things happen.”

  “You were sweet.” Her shrug hid a thousand secrets, but I doubted she’d reveal any. “Just made me realize how I almost lost you.”

  “The puck cracked my eggs, but they put Humpty Dumpty back together.”

  “Good. Because, right now, that’s a part of you I really don’t want to lose.”

  “My balls are blue, not broken.”

  “Not for long, if you let me have my way with you.”

  I snickered. “You’re the one woman who wouldn’t show me any mercy.”

  “Only because I know what you’re capable of.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Her expression stilled. “Everything. You’re an amazing man, Adrian Alaric. I just never imagined these amazing things we’ve done together.”

  “You never imagined it?”

  She looked good squirming in my jersey. “Don’t put me in any awkward positions.”

  “I’ve already put you in plenty of awkward positions.”

  A pillow launched for my head. I dodged it with a grin that hid none of my intentions. Wasn’t sure it was even worth hiding them anymore. Not when I craved a brush of her skin, the heat of her kiss, or the pleasure of her body.

  But I could only blame so much of my desires on pure attraction.

  Even after we’d spent that night tangled in my sheets, indulging ourselves until we were sweaty and satiated…

  I needed more.

  And that craving was something new. Something complicated.

  Clover met my gaze with a solemn curiosity.

  “Do you think we can stay best friends if we’re having sex?” she asked.

  Shit. Complicated question. Dangerous question.

  My feet turned heavy, laden with concrete and reluctance. Still, I closed the distance between us.

  “We have to,” I said.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Yes, it is.” I reached for her, brushing her hair behind her ear. The softness delighted me. She delighted me. “Doesn’t matter if we have sex every goddamned night. I’m not letting you go.”

  “You’re willing to make that sacrifice?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Because I need you.”

  This amused her. “For what?”

  “For everything. For myself. For my sanity.”

  “And here I thought I was the pest who dragged you out of bed and across the country too many times to count?”

  “Oh, you are.” And I had kept a count. The number hovered around twenty, depending if I regretted losing our hotel reservation during Mardi Gras when we’d wandered the French Quarter for two days with no sleep and only a dozen beignets to keep us fueled. “But you’re the only one who can help me get through this fucking mess with the Forge.”

  Clover edged closer. “This team’s disfunction isn’t your fault.”

  “I know.”

  “Or your responsibility.”

  I took issue with that. “Of course it is. I’m the captain. These guys are supposed to respect me, to follow my example. How the fuck am I supposed to do that now?”

  She was a woman of action, always egging me to jump headfirst from the precipice just to see the problem from another angle.

  “Nothing’s changed. You work hard. You earn their trust.” She paused. “You could be honest with them.”

  “Telling the team that the Forge expects them to make a spectacle of the franchise won’t fix this problem.” I frowned. “Nothing will…not until the men get coordinated. They’ve gotta resolve their conflicts with each other and keep their issues of the ice.”

  “It’s like that with all teams,” she said. “But they’re all professionals. They’ll put in the work.”

  I wished I had her optimism. “I’ve been around the league long enough to know when something is wrong. We’ve got so many damned playmakers on this team, but each one’s got an ego bigger than the last. I can’t unite men who don’t want to play as a unit. And I can’t make a winning team if the management wants us to eat each other alive.”

  “But you can be a great captain. They’ll recognize the man you are, and they’ll play for you, not just with you.”

  The woman was too damned good for me. Did Clover even realize what she meant to me? She was my flashlight in a power outage, and the jumper cables in my trunk. Wasn’t sure what I did to have such a woman wearing my jersey and snuggled in my bed, but I’d sure as hell do all I could to keep her there.

  “Maybe one day they’ll trust me the way you do.” I relaxed onto the bed, wishing I could knock my head against something harder than the pillow. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

  She batted me with her pillow. “That’s a lie.”

  “You’re the one who pushed me into the junior leagues. Let me copy your homework so I could do more practices and late-night games. Never got upset when I had to do drills and private lessons instead of seeing a movie or going to the mall.”

  “Well, you let me tag along.”

  “You hate hockey.”

  Clover got a little too defensive with her squeal. “I’ve never admitted that. The arenas are just…cold. That’s all. And…smelly.”

  “But you still came to all the games you could. And you stuck around after to entertain me. Kept me grounded after spending so many hours on the ice.”

  “Well, I am more than happy to take credit for how a great of a man you turned out to be.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Gives me hope.”

  “Hope for what?”

  “That if we have a boy…he can take after you.”

  A boy.

  The room spun.

  Jesus.

  I hadn’t thought of anything beyond making the baby. Not a gender. Not any names. Not the expectations.

  My only goal had been to get the deed done.

  …And not to worry that our first attempt had failed.

  Clover tilted her head. “Uh-oh. You’ve gone tense again.”

  “If I choke on my tongue, roll me over.”

  “It’s just sex.”

  I swallowed. “It’s not though. It’s more than that. It’s a chance to prove…”

  I stopped talking, but Clover never tolerated silences.

  “Prove what?”

  I wasn’t going to say it. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to it.

  The fear was unfounded. Ridiculous.

  If Clover wanted a baby, I’d give her a baby.

  “Prove that I’m not as hockey obsessed as you think I am,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. Just wasn’t what I meant to say.

  She gestured over the room. The house was big. Plenty of extra bedroom and spaces to fill, walls for pictures.

  Too bad I had no decorations.

  Other guys had photos of friends and family. Childhood mementoes. Family heirlooms.

  Maybe I could frame some jerseys. Grab an official game photo and blow it up. But beyond that? I didn’t have much else. Only a beautiful girl in my bed, offering me everything I never thought I wanted.
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  “Are you finally looking for something beyond the rink?” she asked.

  No. But she expected it of me. “Didn’t know I needed anything else.”

  “Not even a baby?”

  “It’s a major decision. Are you sure you’re ready for one?”

  No hesitation. Just a sweet smile.

  “I’m ready,” she said. “Ready to settle down and experience a part of life that I’ve ignored so far. Does that scare you?”

  “A baby doesn’t scare me.”

  “What does?”

  Unreturned calls to my urologist’s office.

  Scheduled tests. Return visits. Conversations.

  Doctor Stone made it seem like it’d be no big deal, just something routine.

  But I was smarter than that.

  And that’s why I’d refused to make the call.

  Nothing was wrong with me. I’d recovered fully. I’d prove it by giving Clover a baby.

  And it would happen tonight.

  Because if it didn’t…if I couldn’t be the one to give her that gift…

  She’d look elsewhere for the family she desperately wanted.

  It would destroy me.

  Destroy us.

  “The only thing that scares me is disappointing you.” Honest enough. “That’s why I wanted to make tonight perfect. So you’d realize that I’m not some sex-crazed beast determined to pin you down and ravage you all night. You’re giving me a precious gift…and because of it, I’ll take care of you. Always. No matter what.”

  Clover shifted closer, lifting onto her knees so she could pull me into her embrace. Our foreheads touched.

  “You don’t need to convince me to sleep with you, Adrian Alaric.” Her kiss was a gentle caress that broke me with tenderness. “The only man I want in my bed, in my arms, inside me…is you.”

  14

  Clover

  I should never have told him the truth.

  But my confession still swirled with a thousand other tangled emotions.

  I longed to reveal them all, but what sane woman would risk ruining the best night of her life by telling her best friend what he really meant to her?

  Adrian wrapped me in his embrace, and I surrendered against the hardened muscle and heat of his chest. We fell onto the bed. The monster of a man—so much bigger and stronger than I—carefully rested his body over mine.

  Despite the unharnessed desire crippling our thoughts and stealing our words, his kiss wasn’t rushed, and I no longer fought my raging desire to offer him everything.