Goal Line (Madison Howlers #4)

by Camellia Tate

  With a sigh, Annie glanced down at the mass of yarn in her lap. “I had to start over,” she explained. “It’s been so long since I last worked on it, I couldn’t remember where I was up to.” Her fingers rubbed across the soft stitches. She probably should have picked an easier pattern. The trouble was that Annie had started so many knitting projects that the easier patterns bored her.

  “But you don’t want to hear me complain about knitting,” Annie pointed out. She knew from past experience that men - or at least, Annie’s dad and brother - only had a limited amount of interest in what kind of knitting she was doing. Annie had taught herself. Mostly from YouTube videos. And she’d had one friend in high school who’d wanted a knitting buddy. “We can do something more exciting. Watch a film, something like that?”

  “Sure if that’s what you want.” Devon nodded, fingers tapping against Annie’s calf. “You’re wrong, though,” he said, making Annie frown. “About me not wanting to hear you complain about knitting,” he explained. Annie still wasn’t sure what he meant. Surely he didn’t want to actually hear about her knitting? It wasn’t... well, it wasn’t something Annie imagined a hockey player would care about.

  Devon seemed to sense her thoughts. He gave her a small nudge. “It’s something you’re interested in and I’m interested in you. I want to know what makes it interesting for you. When did you start knitting? Is it something they taught you at school?”

  “No,” Annie said, drawing the word out slowly. She was, she realized, giving Devon time to change his mind. She couldn’t think of anyone who’d wanted to know what made her interested in knitting. She was having a little trouble really believing it. But Devon wouldn’t lie to her. Annie trusted him. If he said he was interested, then he really must be. As strange as that seemed to her.

  Shifting slightly so she could study Devon’s expression, Annie thought about what to say. “I liked the idea of making things. I wanted to knit scarves for my dad and my brother, as gifts. I know I could just buy them, but - well, they can do that themselves. If my dad needs a scarf, he’ll buy a scarf. He doesn’t need me to do it.” Making a scarf had felt different. Something Annie could do that her dad wouldn’t do for himself. “So I tried to learn from YouTube videos, at first.”

  “Oh, really?” Devon sounded genuinely surprised. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t use YouTube for much, but I did watch a few videos when I had to bleed the boiler,” he told her and then frowned even more. “That is the most masculine sentence I’ve said in ages,” he decided. “Though, maybe it’s diminished by my admission that I had to watch a video?”

  The rhetorical question almost made Annie laugh. She didn’t really think Devon cared much for doing only things that were masculine. “Was it hard to learn? From a video?” Devon asked. “It wasn’t very hard to learn how to bleed a boiler, but knitting seems harder.”

  Picking up the beginnings of Magda’s scarf again, Annie knit a few stitches. “Bleeding a boiler sounds pretty complicated to me,” she pointed out. “I don’t even know what it means.” She assumed it had nothing to do with real blood. Annie had never lived alone. There had always been someone else to take care of the heating.

  “I didn’t get very far learning from videos,” she admitted. “But I had a friend in high school who could knit. She taught me the basics. There’s only really two kinds of stitches. Once I understood how to make those, the videos started to make a lot more sense.” Glancing down at the yarn between her fingers, Annie gave a small shrug. “I still get frustrated sometimes. I tried to make a blanket once. I just couldn’t work out how the instructions related to what I was actually doing.”

  Devon leaned in closer to see what Annie was doing. It kind of surprised her just how interested he acted. It didn’t seem feigned just for her sake either. “Bleeding a boiler just means letting excess water out so the pressure stabilizes,” Devon said. It took Annie a moment to realize that he was referring to her saying she didn’t know what it meant. She hadn’t actually expected him to explain it.

  There didn’t seem any point in saying as much. Annie did log away how Devon genuinely seemed to want her to understand what he was talking about. Even when it was about bleeding boilers.

  “Will you teach me how?” Devon asked, startling Annie from her thoughts. At first, she thought she must’ve misheard, at least until he repeated it. “To knit. Will you teach me?”

  Annie didn’t know what to say. Her thoughts tumbled, one over the other, each fighting to be first. Annie wasn’t the kind of person who would refuse to do something that someone asked of her, if it was something that was in her power to do. Especially someone that she cared about. So, of course, she would teach Devon, if he wanted her to.

  But why would he want to learn? And why would he want Annie to teach him? Annie had almost no finished knitting projects to her name. If Devon wanted to learn, there were people much better equipped.

  “Why?” she asked, genuinely clueless as to what Devon’s answer might be. “I know you want to be interested in what I do.” At least, Devon had said so. “That’s sweet, but it doesn’t mean you have to learn to knit. Wouldn’t you be bored?” She offered a small smile. “It’s not exciting like hockey,” she pointed out.

  “Nothing’s exciting like hockey,” Devon stated, so deadpan that Annie almost laughed. He gave her a look and then shrugged. “I mean, some things are almost exciting like hockey. But even sex isn’t as great.” The bluntness of that statement made her shake her head. Devon didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he carried on.

  “Knitting doesn’t have to be as exciting as hockey, or even sex, for me to want to learn it. It’s something I don’t know how to do and you enjoy it. I want to know what it’s like so I can... understand, I guess?” he offered. “I’m not going to knit a scarf or whatever, I just want to know how I could.”

  Slowly, Annie nodded. She could sort of understand where Devon was coming from. It was like Magda learning about hockey for her boyfriend, or teaching him the names of the different jumps and spins. Except…

  Frowning slightly, Annie agreed, “I do enjoy it. But that doesn’t mean there won’t be something else I enjoy next week. I don’t know if it’s worth you learning.” She felt a flush creep up her cheeks. They’d talked before about how Devon didn’t need Annie to commit to one thing the way he’d committed to hockey. She still wondered if it was worth him learning something that she might only do for a few weeks before she moved on.

  “I’ll teach you if you want,” she added. She didn’t want Devon to think she was refusing. Not when his wanting to learn at all made Annie feel so warm. “It’s not that difficult if you’ve got someone in person who can guide you through the movements.” She paused, halfway through leaning down to pull some more needles from her bag. “Do you want to learn now?”

  “Yeah, why not,” Devon nodded. He let go of her legs so she could move and find more yarn, too. With everything in hand, Annie resettled next to Devon, her side flush against his. It still felt a little surreal that Devon wanted to learn how to knit. But Annie wasn’t going to discourage it.

  The back of his hand brushed against hers and Annie looked up at Devon. He gave her a grin. It felt like warm liquid settling in her stomach. She could hardly resist pressing her lips against his briefly. “I’m happy to learn whatever you do next week, too,” he told her seriously once they broke apart from the kiss.

  Annie’s cheeks flushed at that. She felt almost guilty. The way she hopped from project to project was just so different from Devon’s focus on ice hockey. And yet, Devon didn’t seem to mind. It was lovely. But Annie thought it would take some getting used to.

  Actually teaching Devon how to knit was not quite as straightforward as Annie had expected. His hands were just so much bigger than hers! Trying to get his thick fingers to make delicate loops and knots was a challenge. Not to mention, getting distracted every time Devon leaned against her side, or every time he made her laugh.

  Finally
, after she’d fetched larger needles and yarn, Annie managed to get Devon cast on and ready to actually knit. “So that’s the basics,” Annie explained after they’d muddled through a row of knitted stitches. “If you did want to make a scarf, that would be enough. Well, as long as you were okay with it being quite a boring scarf.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready for a not-boring scarf yet,” Devon decided. Annie had to admit, watching him knit was definitely a memorable sight. It shouldn’t have surprised her to find that Devon focused on knitting as much as he focused on doing anything. Yet, it still did a little bit. Annie struggled to believe he genuinely wanted this, but it was hard to deny it. Not when she saw how hard Devon tried.

  He caught her looking. Annie blushed, feeling a little guilty for how much she doubted his true interest. “What?” Devon asked. “Are you secretly judging me because I’m terrible at knitting?” he joked. “I’m pretty good with my fingers, I can learn.” That was said with a smirk. If anything, his heated gaze made Annie’s blush intensify.

  She couldn’t deny that it was true. She remembered from the night before just how good Devon had been with his fingers. She wasn’t going to complain! “I’m not judging you,” she answered, shaking her head. “That would be shitty of me.” Especially as Annie barely ever finished anything. “I’m just - surprised.”

  Annie wasn’t sure how to explain it in a way that Devon would understand. “No one’s ever learned something just because I was interested in it before,” she said. “I don’t think anyone’s even learned about something just because I was interested.” Annie had definitely tried talking to Dev about her projects in the emails she’d written him. Seeing him in person, she’d realized how little of that information he’d actually retained.

  “It’s lovely,” Annie added. “Just… different.”

  “Oh.” Devon sounded genuinely surprised. It warmed Annie’s heart to think that he truly didn’t realize that there were people out there who might not care about things Annie was interested in. Devon had said he was interested in Annie and therefore in the things Annie was interested in, but... well, Annie hadn’t really realized he’d meant it.

  Yet, here they were, Annie teaching Devon how to knit. “You do that for me,” he pointed out. “I mean, you already knew hockey and cheese, but you’ve made special efforts.” And it was true, Annie had gone out of her way. But she hadn’t realized Devon knew that.

  Annie helped Devon transfer his needles from one hand to the other, carefully considering what she wanted to say. “I think that feels different to me because you’re so… committed to the things you love,” she explained. The blush stained her cheeks again. She couldn’t help thinking how much she wanted Devon to be committed to her. Maybe even to love her. One day. Annie’s feelings for him were definitely moving in that direction, even if she hadn’t yet put it into words.

  “Learning about ice hockey, or your process after matches, those things are always going to be important to you.” Annie gave a small shrug, not convinced she was making herself understood any better. “It means a lot to me that you don’t dismiss knitting because you know I’m going to be doing something else next week.”

  It really did mean a lot. That was the closest Annie could come to putting the fluttering feeling in her chest into words. “A lot of people would dismiss it,” she added, wanting Devon to know how much she appreciated him for being - well, for being him.

  She smiled brightly, running her hand over his muscled forearm. “You’re really great, is what I think I’m trying to say.”

  Devon laughed at that and then set the knitting needless to one side in favor of pulling Annie in closer against him. “You’re really great, too,” he told her so easily that Annie felt like she had no choice but to believe him. It felt good to know that, to feel so sure. She tilted her head back, seeking out Devon’s lips and pouring all of those emotions into the kiss. His lips were warm against hers and Annie licked her way into his mouth.

  Quickly the kiss went from sweet to hot. Annie turned her body more towards Devon’s, just as his hand came to brush over her side. When he pulled back, Devon’s breath was catching. “Want to come upstairs so I can show you just how great my fingers are?” he suggested.

  Wrapping her arms around Devon’s neck, Annie admired the breadth of his shoulders beneath her. Even after they’d been dating for weeks, she never got tired of seeing just how hot Devon was. Hot and sweet. Annie really did feel incredibly lucky to have bumped into him that day at the rink.

  “Only if you carry me,” she teased. When Devon lifted her up, as though she weighed nothing, Annie gave an excited shriek.

  The next morning, Annie got up far earlier. Maybe spending so much time at Devon’s was finally starting to rub off on her. Stretching out against Devon’s expensive sheets, Annie couldn’t find it within herself to mind.

  From the bathroom next door, she could hear the water raining down against the tiles. Smirking to herself, Annie quietly stood, dropping the shirt she’d been sleeping in onto a pile on the floor.

  She’d been planning to surprise Devon in the shower, but as she stepped into the bathroom, he was already towelling off. “I can see I’m going to have to get used to early mornings if I want to catch you all naked and wet,” she said, pouting her lips out slightly. “Do you want to get back in?”

  Devon seemed surprised by Annie’s presence. It wasn’t a surprise that lasted very long. She could see him thinking about her proposition. It did not take much time. “Yeah, yeah, I could definitely do that,” Devon nodded, reaching out to drag Annie in close, making her wet in the process. She fully believed he was capable of making her even wetter.

  After he’d kissed her, Devon reached to put the water back on. Annie noted how he turned it down a bit so it wouldn’t be as hot, before stepping in. His bare back looked so good, muscles flexing as the water washed over them. Annie’s gaze slid lower, admiring the curve of Devon’s hips before finally setting on his ass.

  It was fucking gorgeous. But Annie’s eyes were instantly drawn to the soulmark name there. Neatly sat against one of Devon’s buttocks there was the name ‘Antonia’.

  She’d known what Devon’s soulmark said - though not where it was. Annie couldn’t help but giggle. Reaching out, she brushed her finger softly across the letters of her own name. She’d dated men before whose soulmarks had been of her name but she’d never been close enough for either of them to let her see. It made her breath catch.

  Not just because Devon might be her soulmate. Annie liked that he trusted her enough to let her see such an intimate part of him. “You’re not wearing a sticker,” she observed. She knew Devon had before. She’d definitely checked out his bare ass and not noticed his soulmark.

  Glancing over his shoulder like he might be able to see his own ass, Devon shrugged. “I’m not,” he agreed. “It’s not like you don’t know what it says.” His argument was definitely valid. Annie had known it was her name he had on his skin. Actually seeing it there was... It felt different, special. And it made her wonder if it was truly her name.

  The way they got on was like nothing Annie had experienced before. Devon made her feel good, yeah, but he also made her feel special. In a way that no one else had before. She gave his ass a squeeze and Devon laughed.

  “Are you going to admire my ass all day or are you going to shower with me?”

  She grinned, running her hands up to Devon’s shoulders, brushing through his wet hair. “I can’t do both?” she teased. As she moved, Annie noticed the sticker on her wrist - the one that covered up her soulmark. While she pondered, Devon turned, hands full of soapsuds. It was such an everyday kind of moment that Annie felt her heart squeeze tight against her ribs. She could get used to this. She wanted to get used to this.

  “Do you want to see mine?” she offered, turning her hand so that Devon could see the sticker. He knew what hers said, too, of course. If it would fill him with the same warmth and excitement that Annie had felt
then she would love to give him that.

  Even though Annie felt like he probably should’ve predicted her question, Devon looked surprised. His soaped-up hand covered her wrist, his fingers warm against the sticker. She could see him thinking about it. Finally, Devon shook his head. “Not for the sake of seeing it,” he told her. “I know what it says and maybe... maybe we are a match, but... I’d like to see it when we decide that.”

  Annie felt like they were a match. But it was too early in the relationship to truly know that. As good as being with Devon felt, things could change. They even might change. Annie didn’t want that but she could appreciate being realistic. Some relationships burned bright and then burned out just as fast.

  “I like that idea,” Annie said, smiling softly up into Devon’s bright eyes. The thought of deciding they were destined to be together filled her with just as many butterflies as thinking about how they might already be a match. That Devon wanted to wait was sweet, in a way Annie was coming to expect from him. He really wasn’t like other guys. Either the ones Annie had been with or the ones she’d had as friends.

  Turning around, Annie let Devon’s hands trail soap down her back and sides. “I’ve already appreciated your ass, so feel free to check mine out,” she teased. She had no doubt that Devon would enjoy looking, even if there was no name for him to read.

  Devon laughed, his hand traveling down to Annie’s ass to give it a light smack. “You do have a very nice ass,” he hummed. Annie grinned. This was lovely. It was also hot, and Annie’s body was already responding to eagerly to what might come. But aside from that, it was nice. Being here like this with Devon, being so comfortable.

  Annie tiptoed to kiss Devon. He pulled her tighter against him, his hardness pressing into her thigh. Annie truly hoped that one day they’d reveal their soulmarks to each other because they thought they were soulmates. It would feel amazing to know, to do that. But first, she’d have to tell Devon the truth. Which she would. Soon.