Foreplayer

by Kate Meader

  Neither did she. Cal had once talked about how we keep the pain inside so others don’t get hurt. But deep down we know the truth: we do it to protect ourselves.

  It seemed so obvious. “He was worried you’d choose Tommy.”

  “As if I would have done that. Cal is my friend. There is no contest.”

  But Cal had just enough self-doubt to not want to test that. Bethany said he was a percentages guy, a player who calculated the odds before he took his shot. Finding out that Tommy was her target must have been such a shock. His enemy with the woman who he …

  Did that same self-doubt extend to her? No, she couldn’t allow herself to hope like that. She put Cal out of her head and tried to focus on reality.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “Oh, no.”

  She pinched his arm. “I want to live here for a while, maybe the foreseeable future. Would you be okay with that?”

  Vadim looked like he was mulling it over.

  “Vad!”

  He tweaked her ponytail. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”

  “Yes. It’s getting boring at this point.”

  “Then I will tell you again. You have my blood and marrow and spirit, so I take some responsibility for your best attributes.”

  “Of course.”

  He grinned. “But mostly, I marvel at what a wonderful person you have become. Do not let anyone dim your fire, pchyolka. Do not accept second best for anything.”

  Pchyolka. Little bee, a term of endearment he used when they had first met. Her heart liquefied in her chest. Vadim might be the most dramatic person she knew, but he was rarely sentimental.

  Memories assailed her. A sterile room, the stink of disinfectant, another lifetime.

  Her mother walked into her hospital room, looking more troubled than usual. “Mia, this is Vadim—”

  “Petrov. I know.” Drawing on strength she didn’t know she had, Mia pushed herself upright in the bed. She couldn’t believe her mother had managed to persuade Vadim Petrov, one of her favorite hockey players, to visit her. “I love how you play. I want to play exactly like you.”

  Vadim Petrov’s lips twitched. But then his Arctic-blue eyes flashed with a deep emotion Mia would never have expected from a stranger.

  Her mother stepped forward and took her hand. “Vadim is here because …” She shot a worried look at him, but Vadim wasn’t paying attention to her. He was staring at Mia as if he had seen a ghost.

  “Mia, I am your brother.”

  She must be as high as a giraffe’s ass from the drug cocktail the docs had her on. She could have sworn that Vadim Petrov, power forward with the Quebec Royals, one of her idols, had said he was her brother like some twisted parody of Darth Vader giving Luke a coronary. He must mean in spirit, supporting her while she fought this horrible life-sapping disease. Some kind of Make-a-Wish thing.

  “Uh, I appreciate that,” she said.

  Back in the present, she looked into the eyes of that same man and marveled at how her life had turned out.

  “I have the best brother, the best sisters-in-law, the best doggo … second-best has never come into it.” By staying in Chicago she would likely see Cal on the regular and risk a delay of her healing. But she had been brave before. She hoped that eventually they could return to the foundation that had strengthened each day since Levi Hunt’s wedding: their friendship.

  “Yet, you thought that pizdoon, Tommy, would be a good option.”

  “I thought anyone who wasn’t a dill-hole hockey player would be a good option. I was trying to come up with the opposite.”

  “You were looking for a champion, and while I am here and will always be that for you, you have someone else on your side.” He waited a theatrical beat, and said, “Cal.”

  How was she supposed to get over him if Vadim kept bringing him up? “You said he was a man-ho.”

  “I said he likes women. This is not the same thing. But mostly, I believe he needs someone who is in his corner. I have not been a good friend to him.”

  Cal had been in her corner from the beginning. A man who snuck out of his hotel to drive two hours to see a women’s hockey practice game when he should be preparing for his next outing on pro ice was pretty special. A man who made you mac and cheese, let you control the Netflix queue, and gave hell to the person who hurt you—perhaps this was a man trying to tell her something.

  “He bought me tampons.”

  Her brother frowned. “How sweet.”

  It was. “You know he still talks to Bethany? They share custody of their dog.”

  “That thing is still alive?” Not clear if he meant Cal’s ex or the puppy.

  She wondered if Cal had discussed her in depth with her brother. About to enquire further, she was distracted by her phone buzzing.

  Her brother took that as his cue to stand and stretch. “I will start dinner. Pizza okay?”

  “Pizza would be great.”

  She checked her phone, to find a message from Tara. Did you sort things out with Cal?

  Nothing to sort out. We’re just friends.

  Sure you are. I really thought he’d go for it, but I’m beyond knowing what men think anymore. Or maybe he hasn’t seen it.

  What the hell was she talking about? Before she had a chance to respond, another message came in.

  From Cal. Her heart soared.

  It’s official. ITD.

  A couple of seconds later: That means I’m the Dick.

  She looked over her shoulder through the large picture window. Vadim and Isobel were in the kitchen, kissing in between chopping veggies for the pizza. Out on the patio, Gordie Howe was sniffing at the edge of the fire pit, but had enough sense not to get too close.

  Another message came in from Cal, this one with a link. She clicked it, and was taken into … oh! The “Am I the Dick” forum. She read avidly, trying to absorb every word as quickly as possible.

  Original_SkaterBro

  Update to this post.

  AITA for letting my past hurt ruin the best thing to ever happen to me?

  You’re not gonna believe this update, guys. Turns out Tia, the bouquet catcher, is totally into me. Sure, I kind of knew because I’m good with the ladies, so usually it would only be a matter of time. Long story short, we were thrown together for a “work project” and I tried to resist because there’s a bunch of complications I can’t get into here. But we ended up really connecting.

  So far, so good, right? Except here’s where I might be the dick. Basically I tapped into my usual MO and came up with a strategy that pushed her away. Yeah, yeah, I know. I have some baggage with a capital B and I’ve been hauling it around, expecting I can make it go away by just, uh, ignoring it. (I’m a guy, it’s what I do.) Well, Tia called me on my BS, asked me straight out to tell her how I feel, and bailed in disgust when I didn’t fess up.

  Part of the reason I didn’t spill was because she’s got her heart set on someone else and to be honest, I don’t know if she still feels that way about him. I wasn’t her end game, I was just the one she was with right now.

  What I didn’t tell her is that I’m completely and utterly in love. Tia is the bravest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Nothing keeps her down for long, she just picks herself up and tries again. She came into my life and turned it upside down. That’s often what love does, or so I hear. It comes when you least expect it. Best of all, my love for this woman has a strong foundation in friendship. In respect. There’s no one I’d trust more with my thoughts, my secrets, and my heart. If it doesn’t work out between us, I hope and pray that we can be friends again because mostly, I miss talking to her.

  I haven’t always fought for what I want. For a while there, I preferred to be liked by most people than loved by a few. Or one. I thought that would be easier. Less risky. I thought that would keep my heart safe.

  But it didn’t. Because when you meet the person who sees through all your crap and makes you want to punch a battalion to get t
o her, you need to fight like a savage to hold on to this good thing you’ve found. Of course, if she loves someone else, I can’t change that. But I’d be a coward if I didn’t let her know how I felt.

  tl; dr The bouquet catcher is my OTL but I screwed up. AITD?

  * * *

  Mia took a deep breath, aiming for calm after what she’d just read. This must be what Tara meant. She had assumed Mia wrote it trying to get Cal’s attention.

  Yes, you’re the dick. Big time.

  But Mia had pulled a few dickish moves of her own. She had given this man little reason to think he actually had a shot with her. He was her mentor, her practice buddy, the guy who got her in shape for the real thing. How would he know that she was falling for him unless she told him? As intuitive as Cal was, could she really expect him to be a mind reader on top of it all?

  “Hey, Wallace.”

  She looked up and there he was, standing on her brother’s patio in one of his sexy fall sweaters, taking her breath away for the millionth time.

  Mia’s cheeks were flushed and wet, her eyes bright in the firelight, those beautiful, pillowed lips slightly parted in surprise. Yet again, she simply slayed him.

  “Got a minute?”

  Swiping at her eyes, she nodded and moved an inch to the side on the patio sofa, an invitation to join her.

  He sat. “Read anything good lately?”

  “You stole my online identity.”

  “You stole mine first.” He gusted out a breath. “Are we really fighting over the rights to claim the handle Skater Bro?”

  Her lips curved, but her smile crumbled at the edges. His gorgeous girl was emotional.

  She whispered, “Did you mean it?”

  “Every word.”

  She rubbed her hand against his arm.

  “Try not to get distracted by the sweater, Mia.”

  “It’s hard to stop touching it. To stop touching you. But I’m still mad at you for not telling me … well, everything.”

  “Vadim called, said you know about Tommy.” He had written the post an hour ago before he even knew that Mia was up to speed on Tommy the Asshole. He was on his way over when Vadim called to tell him Mia knew.

  “I wish you could have told me, Cal.”

  He wished it as well. “I didn’t want to make you choose. It would have killed me to tell you and then watch you still go for him. You were so sure that was what you wanted. I’ve had a front row seat to your drive and ambition, remember. Telling you what he did would be dirty pool.”

  “How? How would that not have helped?”

  “Either you’d pick him because that’s what you wanted anyway or you’d not pick him because we were friends, and I’d always wonder if I’d held you back from what you really wanted.” He inhaled the deepest breath of his life. “So … do you? Want him?”

  Gordie Howe yapped and Mia picked him up and settled him on her other side, so she could snuggle in closer to Cal.

  “What he said.”

  “I don’t speak fur bundle.”

  She smiled and reached for him, cradling his jaw. He resisted the urge to lean into that gentle touch. He didn’t deserve it yet.

  “No, Cal, I do not want Tommy. I want you. I’ve wanted you since you showed up in Biddeford. Probably before that, when you kissed me, or when you stole my bacon, or made me laugh so hard I snorted. But I didn’t think you wanted me the way I wanted you.”

  He closed his eyes and let himself feel gratitude for the universe. She wanted him. This woman wanted him.

  When he opened them again, she was still here but something in her expression was troubled.

  “What, Mia?”

  “That kiss the night before my tryout and then again last night. Both times, I feel as if we were on the precipice of something truly amazing. Both times I needed you to be honest—”

  “And I messed up. I know that. It—well, it was getting a little too real. With that first kiss I knew I was in trouble and after that last one, I knew I was probably not going to survive you, Mia. I was so pissed that you were still with him. I should have come clean. But that would have opened the floodgates and I was terrified you’d tell me he was your choice anyway.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever talked this much.”

  “I love it. I love hearing what’s in here.” She splayed her hand over his chest. The words might be coming out of his mouth but they were forged deep in his soul.

  “With you, my gorgeous girl,” He ran a thumb along her cheekbone. “With you, I feel exposed to the raw, bloodied heart of me. I’ve lived a life not wanting to say the hard parts aloud, not wanting to be honest because that type of reflection might tell me things I don’t want to know. That I’m not good enough for my parents, for a woman, for my team, for my friends. I want to tell you everything, even though it hurts to say it aloud. You see all these facets to me. You make me think about who I want to be. I want to be brave enough to strip away the mask. Brave enough to be worthy of your heart.”

  “Cal,” she whispered. “I just see what’s already there.”

  “I’m not sure about that. I just know that with you I feel like anything is possible. I’ve limited myself before in all my relationships because it was easier to keep things within bounds. Stay in my box. Don’t make waves. But then I see all you’ve achieved, the way you’ve fought to return to the sport you love, how brave you were to put yourself out there, even if it was to win the heart of someone who wasn’t me and definitely wasn’t worthy of yours. And what you did, standing up to Selena. You are a queen, Mia Wallace. This is your story and I’m happy to exist on the sidelines, tasting your shavings as you skate away from me.”

  She sniffed and a glistening tear fell. “I’d rather we skate together, side by side. This is our story because I love you and you love me. You’ve had my back from the beginning, even supporting me when I thought I wanted someone else. I can’t believe I did that. Talk about being a dick!” She shook her head, annoyed as only Mia could be. “But even then, you cared enough about me to be my friend through it all. My soul mate. The moment you showed up in Biddeford, I knew this was it.”

  Her lips touched his, the lightest brush, then a deeper press. He let her in, accepted what she had to give and what he had to give in return. All this love bursting out of him for this perfect human.

  “That’s my girl. That’s my strong, beautiful, lion-hearted Mia.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “I love you so much. And it hurt to realize that, especially when I’d convinced myself that I couldn’t have you. Not because of Vadim—that was just an excuse. But because of fear. I’ve got a lot to learn about going for goal. Love is truly an act of courage. You’ve shown me that and I’m hoping that maybe you could keep showing me. Teach me your ways.”

  “I could get on board with that.”

  “Oh yeah?” He thought she might like that idea.

  She wrapped her arms around him, her mouth close to his, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

  “The student becomes the master, Foreman.”

  And then she kissed him again, sealing their vow as hearts and souls became one.

  Epilogue

  Mia raced down the right side of the rink, the puck stuck to her blade, the net in her sights. Until a big tower of Mother Russia appeared in front of her. She feinted left. The granite block followed. She tried the run around. This player stuck to her like Velcro. Finally, with one last burst of strength, Mia pushed her opponent back and plugged the puck into the back of the net.

  The crowd erupted, no one louder than Cal and Vadim in the Rebels section, so nicknamed because the twenty or so seats were occupied by the team and their loved ones. All here to cheer on Mia in the gold medal game for USA versus Russia.

  “You think Vespov would make a good addition to Chicago?” Isobel asked. She’d been treating this entire trip as a scouting expedition for the new franchise.

  “Solid but not enough flexibility,” Cal said, then
jumped to his feet as Mia got another shot on goal, only for it to whizz past the pipe. “The last thing we need is more Russians in Chicago.”

  Vadim snorted. “What this Russian needs is for this horror to end so I can put my heart back in my chest where it belongs.”

  The clock counted down as Team USA tried to hold on to its slim one goal lead. At twenty seconds to go, the crowd started the chant but they were too slow to match the actual clock, which drilled down, down, down, and … finally it was over. Mia dropped her gloves and her stick and hugged Cassie O’Brien so hard they both fell over.

  Everyone in the stands clapped backs and high-fived. Theo turned around. “How the hell are we going to top that?” He and Burnett were playing the men’s gold medal game tomorrow against Canada.

  “I don’t think much of your chances, Kershaw,” Reid deadpanned, getting the mind games started early. He was Team Canada’s star forward, and the bookies definitely had the USA’s cousins to the north with the slight edge.

  Less than an hour later, Cal was watching the medal ceremony from the tunnel because Mia had managed to finagle him a Team USA ID as her coach (it helped that Coach Lindhoff was an old friend). The players were on the podium, crying their eyes out as they held hands over hearts and listened to the US National Anthem. Happy tears turned to beaming smiles while they milled around each other, comparing their gold medals and marveling at how their hard work had paid off.

  Now that Mia’s Olympics were over, she could focus on her next goal: playing pro. She had offers from several teams, though he prayed she’d take the one from Chicago. Once Selena Fabien had been ousted, it didn’t take long for Vadim and the Chase family to renegotiate the women’s franchise for the Windy City with Selena’s successor. If Mia ended up elsewhere, they’d make it work long-distance, but he would prefer she was with him in body and not just in spirit.

  As his wife.

  It wasn’t a done deal because he hadn’t asked her yet. Only together officially for three months, he suspected some people might think it was too soon. But Cal knew no one could compare to this fearless, funny, feisty woman, and locking her down seemed like the best decision he could ever make.