Take The Shot (Philadelphia Bulldogs #1)

by Danica Flynn

  She was shaking her head at me slowly. “No. No way!”

  “Why else would he want to stay married to you? And loyal to you?” I asked her, but she was still shaking her head. “TJ said he doesn’t even look at other women when they go out anymore.”

  Her eyes darted back and forth as if she was thinking about this a little too hard. “No, I don’t believe you.”

  “Yeah, girl!”

  “But…” she trailed off and sat up on my couch. I sat up from my position on my floor and stared her down. “Ohhhh!! How are we both so dense when it comes to these hockey boys?”

  I shrugged, but had to turn away when my phone buzzed across the table. Noah’s name came across the screen, but Fi jumped at it and answered it for me. Oh no, this was not good.

  “Uh huh,” she said into the phone. “Hey, is my husband with you?” she was quiet for a minute while she listened to Noah saying something on the other line.

  Then she handed the phone to me. I heard the laughter in Noah’s voice. “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” I said back. “We need to talk.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I gathered that, but maybe we can do it when you’re not completely hammered?”

  “Okay. When do you get home?” I asked quietly. God, even though I was drunk as a skunk, I had missed his voice. I missed him so much, and I had been so foolish for just up and ending it over text. I didn’t even let him respond before I blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know, Lovey,” he said quietly. “We’re on the way back, but we have an afternoon game tomorrow.”

  “Oh.”

  He sighed on the other line. “I don’t think you and Fiona should hang out together, you two seem to get up to bad things together.”

  “Noah…” I cried.

  He sighed again, and that just made my tears fall more, because I really fucked up with this amazing man.

  “Lovey, we’ll talk about this later, I promise.”

  I woke up the next morning with my head pounding and my mouth felt like the Sahara desert. I slowly opened my eyes and I felt like I was still spinning even though I was lying down in my bed. I tried to move, but there was a large forearm wrapped around my waist. I blinked for a second, that was a familiar muscular arm. I shifted around in my bed and squinted at my alarm clock, it was 3 AM.

  What the fuck?

  I managed to slide out of the bed, and downed the entire glass of water that was sitting on the bedside table next to me. My head was still pounding when I padded into my bathroom. I honestly didn’t remember anything after talking to Noah on the phone.

  I glanced back into my bedroom and saw his sleeping form in my bed. His six-foot-two frame was stretched out across the length of the bed. He was shirtless and I watched for a moment the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. I shut the bathroom door behind me and splashed water on my face. I felt like complete and utter death and I thought I might vomit. I was never drinking with Fi ever again. She might be slightly worse than Rox, and I didn’t think that was possible. I brushed my teeth, but still felt like hot garbage, so I decided to hop in the shower. I didn’t even wash my hair, I just wanted to feel the water on my hot skin. I haven’t felt this hungover since—oh the last anniversary of my husband’s death. I guess I was predictable.

  I wrapped a towel around my body when I got out, trying to squeeze all the water out of my long hair. It was too late, or rather too early to try to blow dry it, but the damp feeling of my hair actually made me feel good. The shower maybe helped by a percentage, but I still felt like complete and utter shit. I tip-toed back into my bedroom and changed into a different pair of pajamas, trying to be as quiet as possible, so I didn’t wake up Noah.

  I still couldn’t remember why he was here. Did we talk last night? I was still really thirsty, so I went into my kitchen to get another glass of water, and ended up drinking two glasses right at the sink. I needed sleep, but now I had so many questions that I wanted answers to. I didn’t want to wake Noah though because he had a game today. What the fuck was he doing here? Did we have sex last night? No, Noah was very good on the consent thing and if I was blackout drunk he wouldn’t have done anything like that.

  I filled up another glass of water and returned to my bed. I slid into it, hoping not to wake Noah, but he turned over and his strong arms gripped my waist. “What time is it?” he murmured all cute and sleepily. God, I loved this man so much, and I just wanted to tell him and fix the mess I had created.

  “Late…or early, go back to sleep,” I whispered.

  “Why’s your hair wet?” he asked, his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck.

  If I didn’t feel like absolute death I would have been pulling him on top of me now, or getting down on my knees to show him just how sorry I was.

  “Go back to sleep,” I ordered and I shifted onto my side to stop the spins.

  He pulled me close to his chest. I had really missed this, just being with him and having him hold me. He stroked my hair, and I felt like I came undone. “Noah…”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know, Lovey. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Did we…” I trailed off and let the question hang in the air.

  He seemed to get what I was asking. He laughed. “Oh, you definitely wanted to, but you were very drunk when I came over here.”

  I cringed. “I’m sorry. I would like to blame Fi for bringing over that bottle of whiskey, but—”

  “I know,” he cut me off. He knew what yesterday was, and I wasn’t sure if that made it hurt more. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Let’s just get some sleep before I have to wake up for morning skate.”

  “I feel like absolute garbage,” I admitted.

  He laughed again, his breath tickling the back of my neck. “You were very drunk last night.”

  I groaned.

  He stroked my hair some more, and it relaxed me so much that I found myself falling back into the black hole of hungover sleep. I was out so hard, that I didn’t even hear when he left.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  NOAH

  I laced up my skates and had my earbuds in at my cubby, when Riley tapped his stick against my shin guards. I took out the earbuds and looked up at him expectantly. He smirked at me and shook his head. “Our women are quite the pair, huh?” he asked.

  I shook my head with a laugh. “I don’t think they’re allowed to hang out.”

  He started taping up his stick for like the fifteenth time today. Like most guys, Riley had weird pre-game rituals and one of his was taping his stick up way too many times. “Yeah, we both know that won’t stop those two strong-willed women.”

  “True,” I agreed.

  I was really hoping to fix things with Dinah, and I wasn’t about to do that last night when she was hammered. I had figured out why she wanted to call it quits, but I also wanted to call her out on being such a coward. Last night wasn’t the time to get into it with her, especially when I knew she was blackout drunk and wouldn’t remember anything. Like how she didn’t remember that she told me she loved me last night. I knew the saying, “Drunk words are sober thoughts,” but I wanted to hear it from her when she actually remembered it. Right now I had to focus on this game, and afterward I would figure this thing out with the woman I loved.

  The crowd was getting loud, the music pumping loud in the arena. It was go time! TJ and I did our pre-game hand shake before stepping out of the dressing room and onto the ice. I glided across on my skates with ease, feeling the excitement of the crowd on home ice filling me with the desire to help bring home the win. I wasn’t on the starting line today, so I took my place on the bench in between TJ and Hallsy. We fist-bumped each other with our gloves and hunkered down to get into the zone.

  I watched from the bench as our captain took the starting face-off, and then lost the puck. I chewed on my mouth guard in anticipation. We were officially out of the playoffs, so in the grand scheme of thing
s this game didn’t matter, but I still wanted to bring it my all. It was hard not to doubt yourself when you were on the ice in front of cheering fans or had to listen to the media constantly criticize you. It could be draining, but at the same time there was nothing better than being out there on the ice with your stick in hand chasing after the puck.

  I hopped over the bench during the change up, sliding across the ice to get into position on the face-off in our opponent’s zone. Riley iced the puck to get it away from the other team, but now we had to win the face-off and get possession of the puck. It was still scoreless, and we had a lot of hockey still to play, so I was optimistic when I put my stick on the ice and focused on the play. Of course the other team got the puck and tried to one-time it into our net, but Metzy had those silky hands and caught it in his glove. I wished we had called up Metzy earlier, I could only imagine what our goaltending would have been like if we had him all season.

  I took the face-off and won, stick-handling the puck down the ice and passing it to TJ once I got past the blue line. He took it to the corner, but got slammed into the boards, allowing the other team to scrap for the puck while we had it in their zone. I skated over to the center of the zone lining myself up for the open pass, but it never came. We turned it over again, and we were hustling down back into our own zone to get the puck back. I nearly threw my stick in frustration when the other team got the first goal in.

  I skated back to the bench for the change up in between the stoppage of play and took my seat on the bench. My chest was heaving, and I felt the adrenaline pumping. I didn’t doubt my playing, I mean I knew there was always room for improvement, but it just wasn’t our year. This game didn’t even matter, but I still wanted to give it my all.

  We tried to bring the game back, but after sixty minutes of play and a five minute overtime, The New York Gladiators beat us 4-3. It was such a close game, but it didn’t matter. We were already out of the playoffs. I just wanted to hop on the bike to cool down, hit the showers and get the fuck out of there, but of course since I had a goal and assist in the game, I had to talk to the media. I knew it was important, but I also was just so frustrated with how this season was ending for us.

  “Now that you’re out of the playoffs, what do you do going into these last games of the season?” one of them asked me, pointing their phone into my face.

  I ran a hand through my sweaty hair in frustration. “I think right now we just need to focus on our playing, taking every game at a time. Just focus on doing what we do best.”

  “Thanks, Kennedy,” they told me, and I was finally free. I pretty much raced out of there to get my cool down on the bike. TJ was getting off the bike when I got there.

  “I’ll meet you at home?” he asked.

  I shrugged and hopped onto the bike, my legs starting to spin in circles on it. “Not sure yet.”

  He cocked his head at me. “You square everything away with D last night?”

  I shook my head. “She was blackout drunk, so no. Gonna try to talk to her tonight.”

  He clapped me on the back. “Good luck, man!”

  Then he was out of there to take his shower and head out. A couple of the boys were going to grab drinks after, but my mind was running on the woman that lived next door to me. All I wanted to do was get through my post-game stuff I always did and then finally have a chance to fix this awkwardness between us. It was all I could think about while spinning on the bike and when I was in the shower. My brain was hooked on what I could do to keep Dinah, and how much of a miserable fucker I had been without her.

  I changed back into my suit, straightened my tie, and smoothed back my long hair. It was getting a little too long, and I probably needed to cut it again soon, but Dinah was kind of into it. A tingle went down my spine just thinking about how good it felt when she threaded her small hand into it, or pulled on it when I had her tangled up in her sheets. I felt a tightness in my pants just thinking about it, and tried to push the thoughts out of my head. I could think about that later, right now I needed to be thinking about my heart and what I wanted to say to her.

  I was a mess of tangled thoughts driving back to my condo. I had driven home on autopilot and ended up sitting in my car in the parking garage for a bit before working up the nerve to go upstairs. I looked at my phone and saw a string of texts. I hadn’t looked at my phone since I left for the arena.

  DINAH: I feel like death.

  DINAH: But maybe you should come over after your game?

  DINAH: I think we need to talk about everything, now that I’m sober.

  Good, she wanted to talk, but it still made me feel a little nervous. I started typing back to her.

  ME: Is now good?

  I saw the three dots typing.

  DINAH: Yes.

  I finally got out of my car and took the elevator up to our floor. I knocked on the door to her condo. She slowly opened the door. Her eyes lit up when she saw it was me leaning against the door.

  “You want something to drink?” she asked.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You want a drink after last night?”

  She laughed. “You know, hair of the dog and all that shit, right?”

  I laughed. “Sure. Beer me woman!”

  She laughed but went into the kitchen to get me a beer anyway. I settled down on her couch and thanked her when she handed it to me. I cracked it open and drank a little bit.

  “So…” she began.

  “I’m sorry if I put pressure on you by telling you I loved you. I knew it was too soon for you.”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t that. It was watching you take that hit.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but she held up a hand to silence me.

  “I felt everything about Jason’s death come tumbling back onto me. I felt helpless, and I didn’t want to go through that again.”

  I took another gulp of my beer. “I’m sorry, I’ve kind of been in love with you for a while, but I knew it wasn’t the same for you.”

  She put a hand on my arm. “I just got really scared when you took that hit. When you didn’t get up…” she trailed off and squeezed her eyes shut at the thought.

  “You’re a hockey fan, you know what the game’s like.”

  She nodded. “I know, I know. I was being irrational.”

  “I know it must have been really hard to lose Jason, he was a good man.”

  “I didn’t think I would ever find love again,” she admitted.

  She turned away from me and wouldn’t look at me. I put my beer on the coffee table and pulled her toward me, my hand lifted her chin up, making her look me in the eye. “What are you saying?”

  Her eyes were shiny like she was about to cry. Aw, fuck, I’ve dried her tears a lot in the past couple years, but I never wanted to be the reason for it. I never wanted to make her cry.

  “I was going to tell you I loved you that night, but then you got hit and I was just thinking about how I couldn’t go through losing you too,” she finally choked out.

  “So you just decided to break up with me instead?”

  “I’m sorry,” she cried, and I felt like an asshole at the tears welling up in her eyes.

  I drummed my fingers on my leg. “You really hurt me when you broke up with me like that.”

  “Noah, I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

  I frowned at the tears falling down her face. Fuck, I hated when women cried, but I really hated when this particular one cried. I pulled her small frame close to me, my arm around her back and her head on my chest. I stroked her hair. “It’s okay,” I soothed.

  She looked up at me and wiped her eyes. “Do you forgive me?”

  “Of course, Lovey.”

  “Do you still love me?” she asked. “Even after I hurt you?”

  I looked down at her and pulled her face up to meet my lips. I put every ounce of feeling into the kiss. I sighed in content when her hands slid into my hair and she opened her mouth to me so our tongues could battle. Her kisses tasted lik
e all my dreams come true. I loved feeling her tongue against mine and hearing the soft murmur of her moans. God, I loved this tiny fierce woman so much.

  I pushed her back against the couch and was hovering over her without having broken the kiss. She pulled away to catch her breath. Her smile reached all the way to her eyes and she was laughing. “I forgot how much I missed your kisses.”

  I leaned down and kissed her neck, smiling against her soft skin when she whimpered beneath me. “Mmmhmm, me too,” I whispered into her ear.

  My hands traveled all over her body as we hungrily kissed each other senseless. I had missed her, not just because of the physical attraction, but just being with her and talking with her. When I got that break-up text from her I was heartbroken.

  I pulled back to look at her and she smiled up at me. “Are we back together now?” I asked.

  “You still want me?” she asked.

  “Of course. Dinah, I love you.”

  “But I hurt you,” she argued. “Why would you still want to be with me?”

  I pulled her hand onto my chest so she felt my heart beat. “You might have broken my heart, but you can mend it too. Feel how it beats when I’m with you?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re my heart, my home, and my love.”

  “Noah, I’m so sorry. You’re such a good man, it’s one of the reasons I love you, but I don’t deserve you.”

  I smiled her. “You love me, eh?”

  She nodded her head. “I love you so much, and I know I was stupid. I was scared of losing you like I lost Jason. I was trying to protect my heart.”

  “Promise me something?”

  “Anything.”

  “You tell me if you get scared again, okay? And talk to me about it before ghosting me?”

  She didn’t say anything instead she just kissed me fiercely. I loved the way she gripped my shirt and pushed my suit jacket off of me. I shimmied out of it and threw it over the back of the couch. I groaned, I was so hard it kind of hurt. She yanked my tie off and started working on the buttons of my shirt, pulling it out from beneath my dress pants. She unzipped my pants and reached inside, her small hand finding my cock and pulling that out too.