Blind Pass (Carolina Comets)

by Teagan Hunter

  “Afraid so.” The cat snuggles into me, wanting my attention, so I scratch her ears. She purrs against me. “You said her name is Poe?”

  “Yep.”

  “Like Edgar Allan Poe?”

  “No, like Poe Dameron. Because she’s a badass just like him.”

  I grin. Ryan has a nerd side. Huh. Who knew?

  “She’s sweet.” I continue scratching between her ears, and she pushes her head into my hand.

  Ryan snorts. “She likes to pretend she’s sweet. Really, she’s just a spoiled brat who is a total bitch if she doesn’t get her way.”

  “How old is she?”

  “About six months. I actually adopted her from that animal shelter Harper and Collin are always volunteering at.”

  “Really? That’s where I got my dog too.”

  “Those damn do-gooders rubbing off on us. I swore I’d never get a pet, but one look at Poe and I was a goner. She had me wrapped around her finger like you are now. Until—”

  “Ow! Motherfucker!” Poe sinks her teeth into my finger, and I swear she grins up at me around it.

  “That. Until that.”

  I pull my finger from Poe’s mouth, and she jumps from my arms, strutting away like she hasn’t a care in the world.

  Ryan pads into the living room and grabs my finger, inspecting it.

  “I’m sorry. She’s difficult sometimes. I think she’s just still adjusting to…well, being alive. She’s like a toddler. Totally unpredictable,” she explains, tugging me back into the kitchen.

  I let her lead me to a tiny, café-style table. She shoves me down in the chair, then spins around and reaches over the top of the fridge, standing on her tiptoes to get to the cabinet above it. She struggles a moment to reach whatever she’s looking for but then spins back around with the first aid kit in hand.

  I want to laugh at her because a kitten bite is nothing compared to the injuries I’m used to. I get hit by two-hundred-plus-pound adults skating over 15 MPH and take slapshots from pucks soaring six times that. This isn’t shit compared to that.

  But she seems determined to care for me, so…I let her.

  And I don’t know why I let her.

  I think it’s because of the way she traps the tip of her tongue between her teeth as she concentrates on squeezing just a miniscule amount of antibiotic ointment out of the tube and rubbing it gently on the two puncture wounds. The way a little crinkle of skin forms between her eyebrows as she opens the bandage and peels back the protective layers. The way all of her attention is focused on getting the Band-Aid to sit just right on my finger.

  There’s no denying that Ryan is an attractive woman. Her hair is that peculiar shade of blonde that has all kinds of tones mixed in when you look close enough. Her eyes are the most unique shade I’ve ever seen, a deep dark forest hue around the outer edges that lightens up around the iris. Her nose is just on this side of too small for her face, but the way it turns up at the end is too fucking cute. And there’s a little beauty mark just under her right eye.

  She looks like a more natural, modern-day, green-eyed Marilyn Monroe—beautiful with that edge to her that makes you just slightly tremble in her presence, but in the best way possible.

  “I can feel you staring at me,” she says quietly as she tucks the supplies back in the kit.

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but why should I apologize? She’s my wife; I can stare at her if I want.

  She picks up the first aid kit to put it back in the cabinet above the refrigerator. Just like she struggled to get it down, she battles to toss it back up there. Her lean body stretches out long as she presses up on the tips of her toes once again. Her ass pushes out toward me, and my god is it a beautiful ass.

  Before I know it, I’ve risen from the table and I’m standing behind her. Her breath hitches when I press against her, and she halts all movement.

  I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can’t not be next to her right now.

  I place my hands on her hips, unable to stop myself from touching her. She takes another stuttered breath, and I swear I can feel her heart beating.

  My fingers dig into her waist as I breathe her in. She smells so good standing this close, like sunshine and fresh lemons and just a hint of something else. It’s the same way she smelled at the club when we were dancing, and it’s making me feel the same way it did then too.

  She swallows thickly, and I can feel her trembling beneath my touch as I slip my fingers under the hem of her shirt. Her skin is soft, and I bet it tastes as good as it smells.

  I lean forward, brushing my lips against the exposed skin on her neck. I brush my lips back and forth and back again, pressing soft kisses everywhere I can.

  This is exactly what I pictured this morning as I palmed my cock in the shower—her body beneath my lips.

  She makes a low sound in her throat, and it’s enough to pull me from whatever daze I’m in.

  What the fuck are you doing, Rhodes? Quit touching her. She’s not really yours to touch.

  With reluctance, I step away from her, putting distance between us once again, and I hear her exhale a shaky breath.

  “We should pack that,” I say, hoping she doesn’t notice how scratchy my voice is right now or call me out on what just happened.

  “Right. Packing.” She clears her throat and sets the first aid kit on the counter beside her. She runs a hand through her hair, then turns to me.

  I wait for it. Wait for her to yell at me for putting my hands on her. For kissing her.

  But she doesn’t.

  All she says is, “Ready to get started?”

  11

  RYAN

  Just like that, my whole life is turned upside down.

  Okay, fine. My life was turned upside down several days ago, but moving out of the first apartment I’ve ever had is definitely a big deal.

  I glance around my new bedroom and am shocked by the amount of space I have in here. My old apartment was one giant room, and by giant, I mean very tiny. This new bedroom is half the size of what my whole apartment was.

  I think people are under the impression that I have this glamorous life because people follow me on social media, but that’s not the case at all. I’m struggling just like everybody else.

  The fact that the entirety of my possessions can fit into the back of just one SUV proves that.

  Even though I didn’t have a lot to move, I am still somehow exhausted when we carry in the last box. I think it’s all the drama of the last few days finally catching up to me.

  “Hey.”

  Rhodes startles me, appearing in my bedroom door out of nowhere with his adorable one-year-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Frodo, in his arms.

  “Sorry,” he mutters.

  “It’s fine.”

  We didn’t talk much as we packed my apartment. You could even say we went as far as to completely ignore one another, which was a difficult feat in such a tiny space. But it was awkward after he did…well, whatever you want to call what he did.

  I try to shake off how he felt pressed against me. Big and warm and just right.

  And I really don’t want to think about the way his lips felt ghosting against my neck.

  “I’m starving,” he says, interrupting my thoughts before I do something really dumb like moan. “Do you want to order something for dinner?”

  My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, but my first reaction is to say no, I can’t afford it.

  Before I can get the words out, Rhodes says, “My treat.”

  I am not about to argue with that.

  “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me. I’m not picky. Whatever you’ll eat, I’m fine with.”

  “Hmm, too much against your diet if I wanted to order stuffed crust meat lover’s pizza?”

  “I think I can survive one stuffed crust pizza, but only if we can add extra green peppers.”

  “And breadsticks. Maybe wings too?”
/>   “Fuck it, why don’t we throw in dessert too?”

  “Really?”

  “No. Just pizza. I’ll order it and take Frodo out for a walk while you finish settling in. There’s a really good place that delivers here.”

  “I’ll let Poe out for a bit to explore while you’re gone, if that’s okay?”

  “Sounds good,” he says, but he doesn’t make a move to leave.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  He runs a hand over his jaw. “I noticed you aren’t wearing your ring.”

  Oh.

  “I, uh, I took it off for moving,” I lie, my heart racing in my chest.

  He tilts his head, his hazel eyes boring into me. If he knows I’m lying, he doesn’t say anything.

  Instead, he nods again. “Okay. But, Ryan?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like you to wear it.”

  The way he says it…I don’t know. It’s almost like he’s hurt that I don’t have it on, and I didn’t expect him to care, honestly.

  “Okay. I’ll wear it,” I promise. And I mean it. I’ll slip it back on tonight.

  “Okay.”

  This time he does walk away, leaving me to finish unpacking.

  I give myself a shake, pushing away the ring conversation because I do not have the brain power to overthink it right now, and start on unboxing all of my clothes. I felt very smart when I decided to leave them all on the hangers, making this part super easy.

  It’s not that I ever lived a lavish lifestyle before, but after my grandmother took a fall and needed to go into the facility, I really started to take a look at my budget. One thing I realized was that I spent entirely too much money on clothes I didn’t wear. So, I sold a bunch of pieces online to make some cash, then went shopping for a capsule wardrobe. Now I just rotate the same thirty or so pieces. Seeing everything lined up in this massive closet makes me want to laugh, and maybe cry a little because it’s becoming increasingly clear that I do not belong here.

  I’m just Ryan Bell, the girl whose parents abandoned their children to travel the country in an RV. The girl who was raised by her grandparents, went to public school, and had to take out so much money in student loans to get a BFA she doesn’t even use.

  I love that my grandparents were so encouraging and always pushed us to follow our dreams, to get a degree in something that interested us, something we were passionate about.

  But when my grandfather passed away unexpectedly and shit hit the fan financially for them and then my grandmother had her fall, I quickly realized I made a huge mistake. I didn’t need a degree in something that excited me. I needed a degree in something practical. And now I’m paying the price, married to a guy I don’t even love just to pay my bills.

  What a fucking life.

  I continue unpacking my room until Rhodes calls out to tell me the pizza is here.

  “Finally. I am starving,” I say as I make my way into the kitchen, which is also massive.

  He gave me a quick tour earlier, but I really didn’t pay much attention to just how wide and open everything is. It’s totally blowing my mind.

  Rhodes grabs two plates from the cabinet next to the giant stainless steel fridge, and I make a mental note that that’s where the dishes are kept. He sets them on the counter as I slide onto the barstool tucked under the ledge.

  “Drink?” he asks, heading for the fridge.

  “Water is fine.”

  It’s not fine. I actually hate water, but I don’t want to be a burden right now.

  When I feel him staring at me, I look up. “What?”

  “Do you really want water or do you want something else?”

  “Actually, if you have some milk, that would be nice.”

  He wrinkles his nose. “Milk?”

  I shrug. “What? It’s good with pizza.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  He reaches into the fridge and pulls out a fancy glass carafe full of milk. Who actually puts milk in a glass carafe? Why is he not drinking it straight from the carton like a normal person?

  He grabs a cup from the cabinet next to the plates, pours me a generous glass, then slides it my way. He leaves the carafe on the counter just in case I want more.

  I notice there’s more than one box sitting on the counter.

  He lied.

  He totally got breadsticks and dessert.

  He pulls open the lid of the pizza box and nods toward dinner. “Dig in.”

  And we do.

  I’m halfway through my third slice and second breadstick when I just can’t take any more. I toss the half-uneaten pizza onto the plate and lean back on my stool, resting my hand on my stomach.

  “Ugh. I can’t. I can’t do any more.”

  “Wuss.” Rhodes snatches my pizza off my plate and shoves the rest of it into his mouth in one bite.

  I’m a little impressed, but I don’t say that. “Didn’t your mom teach you any manners?”

  “Yes. So don’t tell her I did that when you meet her.”

  I think about that…the fact that I’m going to have to meet Rhodes’ parents and pretend to be married to him in front of them.

  “What are they like?”

  “My parents?” I nod. “I don’t know…parents.”

  “Yeah, but what’s that like? Not all of us had parents.”

  A frown tugs at his lips, and I don’t like the sympathy I see in his eyes. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask any questions and moves on.

  “Their names are Margaret and Oscar, but my mom goes by Maggie. They’ve been married for thirty years, and they are the epitome of a perfect marriage.”

  I raise my brow. “A perfect marriage? Those don’t exist.”

  Not even my grandparents had a perfect marriage, but that’s what I loved about them. They had dark spots, but they always worked through them. To me, that’s the real definition of a solid relationship. Not one that doesn’t have its problems—just one that doesn’t let the problems win.

  That’s what I want.

  “As close to perfect as you can get, trust me.”

  “When are your parents coming to visit next?”

  “They’ll be here for my first home game. It’s tradition. So, we’ll have some time to practice being married before then.”

  Practice being married.

  I like how he just glazes right over that like it’s not a completely fucked-up phrase to use.

  “What about your brother? Is he coming to visit soon?”

  “Ha. I wish. But no. He was really close with my grandfather and he passed… Well, he hasn’t really been back to the States that often. He’s definitely that guy who is married to his career.”

  “I can understand that. I’ve been married to hockey since I was a teen. But he should be helping you, you know.”

  I don’t disagree with him because he’s right. My brother should be helping me, and I’m sure he would if he actually knew how hard things have become. But I don’t want to burden him with it. Besides, it’s not like I was on the verge of being homeless or anything. I (mostly) had it managed even without the help from Rhodes. Now I can just breathe a little easier.

  Well, as good as one can breathe being married to someone they don’t love.

  Rhodes clears his throat and sits back, tossing his balled-up napkin onto his plate.

  “So, I take it you’re too full for dessert, then?”

  I perk up. “Dessert?”

  “Yeah, it looks like some brownies made it into my cart when I was checking out.”

  Made it into his cart, huh? He totally bought me dessert, and for some reason, that really warms my heart.

  “I wonder how that happened.”

  “No clue, but since they’re here, we might as well eat them, right?”

  “Brownies sound so good, but I’m seriously full right now. Rain check?”

  “Rain check it is.”

  “All I want at the moment is a shower and to sleep for like eight to nine hours.” I gasp. “Oh, shit! A bed!
I don’t have a bed to sleep in.”

  “Ah, fuck. In my dire state of hunger, I kind of forgot we needed to go shopping. I’m sure everywhere is closed by now.”

  “Where the hell am I going to sleep tonight?”

  “You can sleep in my bed.”

  I balk at his suggestion. “I’m not sleeping with you, Rhodes. I thought we covered this.”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear the utter disgust in your voice, and I was not referring to sleeping with me. I just said you could sleep in my bed.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “I’ll take the couch.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if you’ve sat on that thing yet, but it’s comfortable as fuck. I take all my pre-home-game naps there.”

  An image of Rhodes snuggled on the couch before a game races across my mind. What I’m not expecting is for the image to transform and for me to be wrapped in his arms.

  I shake the thought away. “I don’t want to put you out.”

  Rhodes puts his hand to his chest. “Did you just display an emotion other than complete displeasure for me?”

  I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, but don’t get used to it.”

  “Ah, there she is.” He shakes his head. “You can take my bed tonight, and tomorrow after I get done with practice, we can go furniture shopping. Apparently, I owe you a new bedroom set.”

  “You have practice tomorrow?”

  “I don’t have practice tomorrow, but I have to help with practice.”

  I tilt my head, not understanding.

  “I volunteer during the summer to help out the Comets junior league.”

  He volunteers? And with children? That…surprises me. He’s always so…well, Rhodes. Grumpy and always looking half annoyed. I’m surprised he works with children.

  “Before you start getting ideas like me being nice, just know it’s practically mandatory.”

  “And here I thought you might have a heart in there somewhere under all those cantankerous scowls.”

  “Cantankerous? Oh. Nice eighteen-point word.”

  “You Scrabble?”

  “I dabble.”

  This time I do roll my eyes at him, pushing away from the counter. “And on that note, I’m done for the night.”