School and Rock (Raptors Book 5)
Page 9
Simon took Maddie and me back to the hotel; Colorado would be a long time getting back, and I had the hour to give Maddie attention, tell her more physics, explain how her daddy was amazing, how hockey was remarkable, and how excited I was by my first game. Also, I needed the time to think about this poke of feelings, of a sudden desire to want to hug Colorado and tell him that I loved the game.
Maddie finally dozed off, tired of my stories, tummy full, diaper changed, and then I just needed to wait for Colorado, because I had so much to ask him.
The soft knock on the door had me yanking it open so hard that Colorado nearly fell in. He was wearing his suit and he looked happy, and lit up from the inside
“How’s Maddie?” he asked and took the long way around me to get to her, checking on his daughter and leaning right over to press a kiss to her head.
“She’s good,” I managed.
He murmured words of nonsense to her, smiling at her, his long shower-damp hair a curtain around his face, and then straightened and went back to his side of the door. Again, he avoided touching me, and I wanted to tell him all about my first game, congratulate him, find out how in hell he did the splits, and faced hundred mile an hour pucks, and ask him if it was okay if I went to all of his games, forever.
But none of the words spilled out of me in any order.
“Joe?” he asked carefully. “You look funny. Did you have too many hot dogs at the game?”
I didn’t reply because how could I extrapolate my feelings when I couldn’t quantify the emotions I was feeling?
“I’m okay,” I lied.
“Why don’t we hang out a bit? I have this new song in my head and wanted your feelings.”
“Maddie,” I said with a wave at the sleeping babe.
He plucked the baby monitor from the dresser then placed it into my hand. “Plus we’ll leave the door open. Come on, let me pluck your heart strings.”
Little did he know that I was pretty sure something was already happening.
Nine
Colorado
It took Joe forever to move. I was beginning to suspect that his big brain kind of took over at times and spun in circles. Like a 78 record. Ah, vinyl.
“Come on, Space Manny.” I slid my fingers around his wrist, jarring him from whatever whirling orbit his mind had been lodged in.
He sucked in a sharp breath at my touch but didn’t jerk his arm free. A good sign, I hoped. This whole slow mating dance thing was kind of out of my realm of experience. Generally, I only had to ask, or sometimes even arch a brow, and sex was forthcoming. Trying to woo Joe was like traveling through space in a submarine.
Joe was incredibly subdued once we stepped into my suite. I released his wrist then padded around the big, firm bed to grab my guitar case.
“This is Ramona,” I said as I laid the battered case on the bed and flipped the latches. “She’s a 1960 Gibson Hummingbird done in the heritage cherry sunburst design.” I lifted the beauty from the case. Joe’s eyes widened. “Right? She’s my baby. Aged Sitka spruce top, mahogany sides and back, rosewood fret board, and mother of pearl inlays. She was one of the first things I bought when I was signed by the Raptors. Well, her, my house, and a few cars and trucks. Oh! And a getaway camp out in the desert.”
“It’s a beautiful guitar,” Joe said. “Did you know that an acoustic guitar makes sound entirely by vibration? It’s true. A sound wave is produced by a vibrating object as we all know. When a guitar string vibrates, it sets surrounding air molecules into what is known as vibrational motion. Now, if you wish to discuss frequency—”
I laughed softly then laid the Gibson on the bed beside my old case. “Does science ever leave your brain?” I asked while reaching up to tug on my tie. I hated wearing suits and ties, they were nothing but silk suits of armor worn by the repressive governmental types, according to my grandmother, who had yet to arrive at my home. I’d need to try to track her down if I could and see what was detaining her. She’d probably stumbled into a cannabis field in Michigan and set up camp. I jerked on the small knot, eager to get the dress shirt and trousers off and slip into my jeans and the yellow tiger print kimono I’d brought along. “I think I’m garroting myself,” I wheezed.
“Let me help,” Joe offered, hurrying over then gently slapping my hands away from my throat.
This was nice. He was close, real close. I could see the new whiskers on his jaw and the flecks of darker blue in his eyes. My arms dropped to my sides.
“So do I have to pay you double the wages now that you’re also serving as my valet?”
He smiled at the comment. My dick began to plump up a bit. Then he bit down on his tongue as he worked on the knot. That peek of pink tongue made my cock rock hard in an instant. The backs of his fingers brushed my Adam’s apple.
“I have no skill as a valet, but I do have skills untying knots. My niece can knot up a shoelace faster than the speed of light.”
“So you’re saying that you’ve never helped a man take his clothes off?”
That brought his bright blue eyes from my collar. He wet his lips. “I uhm…”
“Are you into men at all?” I enquired as I raised a hand to trace the beauty of his lower lip.
“I uhm…”
“If no, speak now and I won’t proceed to the next question.”
Again his tongue darted out to dampen his lips. “I’ve not helped a member of the nobility to remove their evening clothes before.”
Such a clever mind. “Good to know. I suggest you never apply for a position to help the Earl of Grantham with his braces and spats.” I thumbed that lovely lower lip. His pupils swallowed all that pretty blue. I groaned at the sight as his body responded to what was simmering between us. “So, yeah to guys?” He nodded so subtly I would have missed it had I not been engrossed in his adorable face. “Just guys or girls too?”
“I… just guys.” His gaze dipped to my mouth then farther down to where the collar of my shirt was now open, the tie dangling freely around my neck. “The knot is free.”
“Thanks. Can I kiss you?” His sight flew back to my face. Again he dampened his lips. “Feel free to say no. I’m totally about consent. Although I will cop to sweet-talking and serenading to woo you into saying yes.”
“I’ve never been serenaded before.”
“You should be. Daily. So, that kiss?”
“I’m not… I haven’t…” He stopped and stared up at me, and all I could see was confusion, so I decided to back off.
“It’s okay—
“Yes.”
Oh man, his raspy, breathless permission lit me up in ways that rolling around with multiple partners had never done. Why that was I had no clue. Instead of worrying over the niggle of fear, I let it go and lowered my head to press my lips to his. My fingers skimmed along his jaw, tipping his head ever-so softly to the side just a bit. His breath danced over my cheek. I thought about licking at the corner of his mouth, to ask for entry, but he was so stiff, his lips so tense, that I opted out of pressing for more than he seemed to be willing to give. Instead, I pulled back a bit, just an inch, and saw his eyes were closed. So I brushed another peck over his puckered lips, then another, and then one more. When I kissed his long lashes, he sighed. I wanted so much more. Him under me on the bed or me under him, either way, I was the king of versatile. But I lifted my head instead of going in for more.
His lashes fluttered upward. I smiled at the shocked expression on his face.
“You like that?” I asked on a heated exhalation, my fingertips resting on his jaw.
“Uh huh,” he replied as a small shiver danced over him.
“Good, I liked it too. A lot.” I dropped a peck to his nose then forced myself to move back a step. “Chill out a sec. I need to get out of this stupid suit.”
“Yeah, I’ll just… I think I’ll sit.” He dropped down beside my guitar, looking as if he’d just tried to solve some massive quantum math problem and had had his mind irrevocably blown.
“Okay, so the song is kind of like this power ballad but with no power.” I chuckled at myself then leapt onto the bed, sweeping my guitar up and placing it on my lap. Joe wiggled back a bit, his whole attention on me. I liked it. I was kind of an attention whore. “I hear it in my head as being a sort of throwback to those amazing Cat Stevens songs before he left music to find his inner self.”
“You like old songs, don’t you?” he asked as I plucked a few strings.
“Mm, yeah, I do. Did you ever feel like you were born in the wrong time? Like…” I waved a hand in the air over my head. “Like, I feel like I should have been born way back when music was real before this autotune bullshit. When bands were fired up on the glory of heavy metal as well as substantial amounts of stimulants and sex. My soul belongs in the old days of rock. Way back, like the seventies.”
“Oh, that far back,” he tossed out glibly.
“Totally. What about you?” I shimmied in reverse until my back was resting on the padded headboard. He looked up and I tossed my head to indicate he should join me. He did, far more quickly than I’d thought he would. “You ever feel like you were in the wrong generation or era?”
“Maybe. I’m more futuristic though. Traveling through the stars, discovering new life, different civilizations, and life forms. Watching galaxies be born or die. That’s where I would love to be.”
“Make it so!” I said and Joe laughed then settled beside me, his legs stretched out, his thigh resting beside mine, my hip pressed to his. “I really dig what’s going down right here with us. You into it?” I began playing something off the cuff, a short tender riff that had been skipping like a dandelion blow around my head for days now.
“Very much so.”
I gave him a wink. He blushed to his roots. Life was good. Damn good.
Life was not so good two days later. In fact, life had taken a phenomenal dump on the Raptors in game two. After the 5-0 blowout we all sat in the dressing room, heads down, unable to grasp what the fuck had taken place. Not one player in red and gold had any explanations as to where our defense had gone, why our young studs had zero shots on goal, or why the starting goalie had let four pucks past him during thirty-two minutes of play and was then pulled from the game. I felt like shit. No, that wasn’t low enough. Shit stuck on the bottom of a cockroach’s foot. Not that I was the only one blue. The whole team was subdued and down as we gave our postgame interviews. Given where we were mentally I’d have thought the press would be respectful. Most were but there was always one. This one was a short little gerbil-faced man with a terrible comb-over.
“So, Colorado, do you think that perhaps the madness in your personal life has filtered through to your game? Perhaps playing baby daddy should be left to the baby mommy. Maybe your music and the homosexual shenanigans should take a back seat and you should focus on hockey?”
I had no idea who this putz was but he was about to get his motherfucking sound bite.
“I’m not sure where to even begin dissecting all that was wrong with that statement but, dude, for serious? Not only did you toss out some incredibly sexist bullshit there, then you heaped a steaming dollop of homophobic horseshit on top. First off, my having a child in no way affects my play. I have full-time childcare. Nor does the fact that I’m pan and not gay have one fucking thing to do with my performance on the ice. Who is this joker?”
Vlad appeared out of the ether and pulled me to the other side of the room, whispering at me to keep my cool even in the face of utter stupidity. I threw a dark glare over my shoulder at the smug little ass who’d pushed my buttons, then slammed into the showers. Fuck them and their stupid questions.
The ride back to the hotel was steeped in gloom. Joe and Maddie were the only bright spots that night, and I decided to fly home with them instead of the team because I needed to be around them to center myself. Simon was a sturdy but sarcastic presence on the commercial flight. He kept fans from bothering me in his own biting way.
“Sorry, but Mr. Penn is sulking right now and would rather not be disturbed,” my bodyguard said over and over. I mentally flipped him off each time. I wasn’t sulking or hiding, I was licking my wounds and refocusing my chi to the bruised areas of my psyche.
I’d never been happier to see the Tucson airport in my life. We’d have a day off tomorrow, then a full day of practice, then game three would take place the following night.
The four of us rode home in the new Lexus RX I’d had delivered to the airport while I’d been in Dallas. The Jeep, Dodge truck, and several Harleys I owned weren’t exactly safe family cars. Nor was the dune buggy I was having built at a local custom shop.
Joe and Maddie were tucked into the back, all safe and secure. Simon was driving. I had my ear buds in and was listening to my favorite guided meditation and self-actualization apps as we peeled away from the airport. I could just hear Maddie squealing in delight over the soft-spoken man in my ear telling me that it was good to accept myself and all my flaws. Which I did, thanks dude, sometimes it was just a little harder to do than others. I looked into the back. Joe was smiling down at my daughter, tickling her chin with the little purple stuffed frog she liked. She kicked her tiny feet in glee. Watching Joe with her gave me such peace. The two of them had become so important to me in such a short amount of time. It was dizzying.
I dozed a little on the ride home, coming awake sharply when Simon tugged my ear bud out so he could talk to me.
“Uhm, Colorado, I think we have a problem.”
I blinked madly, trying to clear my mind of sleep as I glanced at the front of my house. The front door was open and smoke was sneaking out of it. I was about to bellow for Simon to call the fire department when I spied the old pink VW van parked next to the wall. Like, right next to the house, on the southern side. She’d knocked over a birdbath by the looks.
“She’s here,” I grinned, flipping my seatbelt over my head and then pounding into the mansion. Simon and Joe, with Maddie in his arms, followed. “Oh cool, she’s smudging the place. It probably needed it. Alchemy!”
“What the hell is that stink?” Simon asked.
Joe coughed lightly then draped a thin blanket over Maddie’s fuzzy head to keep the smoke out of her tiny lungs.
“Sage. Alchemy!” I shouted, my voice bouncing around the massive house.
She emerged from the off-white living room, a tiny old woman in a gold and purple caftan, feet bare, gray plait draped over her left shoulder, fat-ass wad of dried, smoldering sage in her left hand. “There he is!” She pattered over to us, shoved the smudge bundle at Simon, and then pulled me down to kiss my forehead. I gazed into loving eyes so brown they were nearly black. She was well-wrinkled and a little bowed, but she exuded the power of a thousand stars in her heart. “Your aura is off,” she said with a squint. “Have you been processing your body’s leavings in a regular fashion? You always did tend to bind up easily. I think I have some powdered buckthorn trunk in the van. Do you have any rhubarb planted nearby? A little rhubarb makes a good stool softener.”
I gathered her in for a hug. Mostly because she was one of the most important people in the world to me. But also because if her face were smushed into my chest she could stop talking about my bowel movements. I kissed her head, inhaled the scent of patchouli and sage, and felt the lingering stress leaving my soul. Alchemy was here. Joe was here.
And, above all else, Maddie was here, sneezing away under the lightweight duckie blanket.
“Is that my great-granddaughter I hear sniffing like a cat?” Alchemy broke free and hurried over to Joe. His eyes rounded. Hers narrowed. Simon was in the driveway hosing down the smudge. “Oh my, who is this? He has stars in his eyes.”
“Alchemy, this is Joseph, my nanny. And this,” I lifted the blanket off Madeline’s head, “is your great-granddaughter Madeline Celeste Penn.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Penn,” Joe replied politely.
“Such a polite fellow. I like that. He’s cute and his aura works in simpatico with yours. We’ll talk later about the challenges a Leo and a Pisces will have. Oh, look at this angel! She looks just like you did when you were a newborn. May I hold her?”
“Let’s go sit down first,” I said.
Joe nodded. My grandmother was a formidable woman but she was in her eighties and her strength wasn’t what it used to be. Someone dropping Maddie was one of my greatest fears. While Simon lugged in bags and called in for food delivery, Joe, Maddie, and I sat with Alchemy. The bond between the two Penn women was intense and true. Once the food arrived we all moved outside, ignoring the VW van parked on top of a flowering bush while an extension cord ran through a van window into a house window.
As the evening progressed we sprawled in the yard by the koi pond, Maddie snuggled up in a fuzzy sleeper with bunny ears, tucked safely in a playpen. The rest of us were spread out on pillows, a small brazier burning, Alchemy entertaining Simon and Joe with tale after tale of my misspent youth. I’d given up trying to stop her telling them and instead lay on my back, plucking at a ukulele that came with the VW van, and staring at the heavens.
“Why don’t you take the baby to bed, Joseph, then come back down. I have a bag of the best Blue Desert Floral I’ve ever grown. Colorado, go get my Yoda bong from the van. Oh! And my portable CD player so we can introduce these two to some Wiz Khalifa and Zeppelin.”