Trying to Score

by Kendall Ryan

  “What did you really say?” she asks, pulling me out of my happy daydream.

  “I actually told them that we’d dated casually back in college. Hope that was okay?”

  She nods. “Yeah. I never really meant to hide it. I don’t know. I guess I just thought it was no one’s business but our own.”

  “It wasn’t. But now that we’re together . . .”

  “They kind of thought it came out of left field.”

  “Exactly.” I nod. “But it didn’t. Not for me, anyway.”

  We reach my building, and after scanning into the underground parking garage, I park in my designated parking spot and jog around to open Sara’s door.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs.

  Once inside, I waste no time in lifting her into my arms on the way to my bedroom. “You know you’re staying the night, right?” The words are whispered into the side of her neck.

  She lets out a breathless little sigh, her fingers sliding into the hair at my nape. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

  “Overnights in my bed are reserved for girlfriends. No way I’m letting you go now that you’re mine.”

  “Tonight or forever?”

  “Let’s start with tonight. But that other word doesn’t scare me, just so you know.”

  She exhales, and her mouth finds mine. “It doesn’t scare me either.”

  Maybe it’s because I’ve known her for years. Maybe it’s because being friends first allowed us to build a strong foundation that couldn’t easily be torn down, or a level of trust that doesn’t normally exist in new relationships. But either way, I’m going for it, because my teammates were right. Sara is a catch, and I’m the luckiest dude in Seattle.

  Once she’s stripped of her jeans and sweatshirt, my mouth is hot on hers as I guide her into the center of my bed. Sara works her hand into the front of my pants, and I let out a monstrous groan when the warmth of her palm closes around me, stroking firmly.

  “Sweetheart.” I moan. “Need to be inside you.”

  “Yes,” she says on an exhale as she begins clumsily trying to shove my jeans down over my hips.

  With a chuckle, I decide to help her out, as entertaining as it is watching her efforts to de-pants me. Once I’m as bare as she is, Sara lets out a happy noise, running her palms along the expanse of my chest and abs, lingering over the flat discs of my nipples until I jolt with sensation.

  “That better?” I ask.

  “So much,” she murmurs, her mouth pressing to mine.

  We spend time on foreplay, but not much, because it seems she’s just as eager for the main event as I am. But then something changes. Between the time it takes me to get her wet and ready for me, my fingers move from between her legs to give myself a stroke, I feel it. The air has shifted around us.

  I gaze down at Sara, and even though it’s mostly dark, I don’t like what I see. Her eyes are filled with an emotion that’s not easy for me to read. Anticipation. But also concern. Something is causing her to worry.

  I pause, my mouth halfway to hers. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” she says softly against my lips.

  “What’s going on inside that brilliant head of yours?”

  She smiles and shakes her head. “Were you always this perceptive?”

  “About certain things? Yes.” Hockey, for one. I can read the game like it’s written in stone. The girl I’m falling hard for? Absolutely. Other things? Not so much.

  She shifts, lifting onto one elbow beside me and meets my eyes. “How will all this work?”

  “Well, first I’m going to put my penis inside your—”

  “Oh my God!” She stops me with a laugh, holding up one hand. “I don’t need a ninth-grade biology lesson. I meant us. Your travel schedule. My hours that are only going to get more insane now that I’ve made partner. Your grandpa. All of it.”

  “We’re going to make it work, babe.”

  “I know. But how? I need specifics.”

  I clear my throat, more than a little surprised to be having this conversation while we’re both naked and seconds away from lots of . . . happy fun. But then again, I’m also not surprised, because this woman is thoughtful and articulate and likes to process information.

  “Well, as for my grandpa, I’m planning to float the idea of moving him here the next time I see him. I don’t know what he’ll say, but I’d like him close by.”

  Sara nods once, watching me closely.

  “Second, I will always support your career, so you never have to worry about that. As for how it will all work, you’re going to move in here with me. That way, any downtime we both have will be spent together.”

  “That easy, huh?” she says with a raised brow.

  “It could be.” And I mean it.

  I’ve never had this type of clarity before. Never felt so sure, so right about anything in my entire life. I first fell for this woman years ago; I just never thought I had a real shot with her.

  “Teddy,” she whispers, her lips finding mine in a sweet kiss.

  “I want you here, babe. Whenever you’re ready. Which I hope is soon. We’ve waited long enough.”

  She swallows, nodding. “I think you’re going to be really good at this boyfriend thing.”

  “I will rock the shit out of this boyfriend thing,” I say smugly.

  Sara smiles, biting her lip as she watches me. “Now, about that biology lesson . . .”

  I trace my fingertips lightly along her skin and feel her shiver at my touch. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”

  • • •

  The following morning, Sara has left for a workout at the gym, and I’m sitting in my study waiting for a phone call from the head of the Ice Hawks that my agent said is coming this morning.

  My agent has been pushing Seattle to get me a contract, either so I can accept it and know for sure I’m staying here, or so we can use it as a basis point for my value when we negotiate with other teams. My stomach is in a knot, and the cup of coffee I shared with Sara is churning inside me now. I wish she hadn’t left.

  My cell rings, flashing a number I don’t have programmed in, and I grab it from the desk. “Hello? This is Teddy.”

  “Mr. King.” The deep cheerful voice belongs to our team’s current owner, Bryce O’Malley. “Thanks for making time this morning.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I’m really not sure if I’m supposed to make small talk, or say something interesting about the team, or ask about his kids. But thankfully, I’m saved from awkward silence by the sound of O’Malley clearing his throat.

  “Let me cut to the chase. Your agent is going to call you in a little while and present you with an offer. We’ve worked hard on cutting you a great deal, and I hope you’ll be pleased, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “Oh,” is the inarticulate thing that falls out of my mouth. “It’s not?”

  “No, son. It’s not. I wanted to let you know, personally, that I want you on this team.”

  “I—thank you, sir.”

  He makes a noise of agreement. “I could tell you a bunch of fancy things about your leadership on the ice, your puck-management skills, the stats you’ve racked up that the sports analysts are happy about. But the truth is, I like you, Teddy. I like how you conduct yourself, and I thought how you handled that whole fiasco recently was pretty admirable. LaShonda in PR had a lot of positive things to say about you too. I think you set a good example for the younger guys. I think you’re just hitting your prime, and I want you to be in Seattle when that happens. I hope you’ll accept our offer.”

  It would help if I knew what the heck the offer is. But my agent let it slip that they were talking in the tens of millions over the course of a four-year contract.

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. And I want to formally apologize for any negative press I brought down on the team.”

  “Ah . . .” He makes a noise like he’s waving off my apology. “Shit happens, son.”
>
  I almost choke on a laugh but manage to restrain myself. “Um. True. I guess it does.”

  “Well, we’ll talk soon,” he says before ending the call.

  After I hang up, I stare down at my phone, my emotions running all over the place. It feels like my future is in Seattle.

  But what about my past?

  20

  * * *

  Date Night

  Sara

  The last week of my life has been an absolute whirlwind, to say the least.

  Between Teddy and me becoming an official couple, my case overload at work, and the uncertainty of his next career move, I’ve been feeling on edge. But all of that changed the second Teddy put pen to paper and signed a contract, accepting a new four-year extension to play for the Seattle Ice Hawks.

  Work will always be busy, and life will always find a way to throw us curveballs, but at least now I know I’ll be fielding said curveballs with my ridiculously hot and incredibly sweet boyfriend by my side.

  Every time I say boyfriend, I start smiling like a teenage girl who’s just been told her crush likes her. It also feels damn good knowing that he’s not about to move across the country when we’ve only just gotten serious.

  And while all of Seattle is buzzing about their hockey franchise hanging on to the strongest forward they’ve had in decades, I’m busy daydreaming about our future together here in Seattle. I don’t want to take things too quickly, but that hasn’t stopped my imagination from conjuring up images of coming home to Teddy’s swanky apartment every night, the two of us cooking dinner and snuggling up with peanut butter ice cream and a movie on the weekends.

  During hockey season, when he’s traveling from city to city for away games, I can picture myself curled up on the couch with a book and a glass of wine when he walks in the door, drops his duffel on the floor, and scoops me into his arms. I want to be what he comes home to.

  It all seems so simple, boring and domestic, but it makes my heart beat faster—maybe because I’ve lived alone for so long and I’m finally ready to have someone to share my life with.

  These are the daydreams that have been helping me pass the time at my desk while I wait for Teddy to get home from his Denver trip.

  Immediately following the press conference announcing his contract extension, where I turned every shade of pink as he thanked his girlfriend for supporting him along the way, Teddy and I hopped in the back of a town car to drop him at the airport. And so began the longest three days of my life. I feel a little silly about missing him while he’s away on such a short trip, but the conversation we had on our way to the airport is enough to get me through.

  “It’s just three days, babe,” Teddy reminded me, pulling me as close to him as my seat belt would allow. “What’s three days when I just signed on to be all yours for the next four years?”

  “You signed on to play for the Ice Hawks for four years,” I said. “Where in that contract exactly did it say that you were required to be my boyfriend that whole time? I’m not sure of the legality of that. The lawyer in me can spot all kinds of loopholes.”

  I’ll never forget the deep, rumbling sound of his laugh as he laced his fingers with mine. “After all these years, I’ve finally got you for real, Sara. Four years is just the beginning. I’m not ever letting you go.”

  Between reliving that moment repeatedly and working overtime on my caseload to pass the time, I’ve kept plenty busy during Teddy’s time away. I know how important this visit is to him—he has just a few days to either talk his grandpa into relocating or to accept the fact that he’ll be all right in Denver, so I’m trying not to take up too much of his time with constant texts or phone calls.

  But the few text conversations we’ve had have been nothing short of over-the-top cute. Teddy’s spent the last few days bragging that he’s planned the perfect night for the two of us for when he gets back, but he refuses to spill the details.

  I’ve been pretending to be annoyed about it, but in reality, my stomach is filled with butterflies at the thought of what he might have planned. I can’t believe this is my life. My college hookup turned fake boyfriend turned real boyfriend has a cute date planned for the two of us, and I’m giddy at the thought and counting down the seconds until his plane lands back in Seattle.

  The day before Teddy’s flight home, I’m settled at my desk with my laptop open, and I double-click on my video-chat app and listen as it starts ringing. As soon as we became official, Teddy asked that we schedule some time during his Denver trip for me to unofficially meet Grandpa Joe. Teddy has a game tonight in Denver, which is probably the only reason his coach agreed to let him go in the first place.

  There’s a giddy feeling in my stomach as the phone rings, waiting for Teddy to accept my video call. It means so much to me that he wants Grandpa Joe, the most important person in his life, to meet me, even if it is just via webcam for now.

  My laptop makes an echoey dinging sound as Teddy’s face pops up on my screen, a cheesy smile on his face. God, that smile. One look at him, and I can’t help but smile too.

  “Hey, babe, I miss you,” Teddy says softly, the smile never leaving his face.

  “I miss you too.”

  A soft chuckle comes from beside Teddy, from who I assume is Grandpa Joe. “Are you going to introduce me to your girl, or what?”

  Teddy shakes his head. “Sara,” he says, pivoting the camera to show a second face. “Meet Grandpa Joe.”

  My smile doubles in size. Grandpa Joe has wrinkles around his eyes and a shock of thick white hair. One look at him, and it’s no mystery where Teddy got his height. They make an adorable sight sitting side by side on a brown couch, and I have a strange moment where my throat gets tight.

  “So this is the woman my grandson can’t stop talking about,” Grandpa Joe says with a smile that matches Teddy’s. “It’s nice to meet you, little lady.”

  I chuckle and nod. “Thank you. It’s so nice to meet you too. Are you two having a nice visit?”

  Teddy looks at his grandpa with a wry smile. “We’re staying out of trouble. For the most part.”

  It sounds like there’s a story there—one I hope to find out later. Maybe when Teddy calls me tonight as he’s done every night to tuck me into bed with a story from their day. It’s always something mundane, like grocery shopping or a pharmacy visit, but he always manages to make me laugh.

  After a few minutes of conversation, it’s as clear as day where Teddy picked up a bit of his stubborn streak. Because as friendly as Grandpa Joe is, he’s also adamant about not relocating to Seattle. It’s the primary topic of conversation throughout our call, and I get the impression that it’s been one of the only things discussed between the two of them over the past few days of Teddy’s visit.

  “I can’t give up and stop living simply because my grandson is worried.” Grandpa Joe frowns, folding his arms over his chest. And to be honest, he has some good points.

  As he gushes about how much he loves his community center, his church, and throws in the detail of a cute nurse that seems to have caught his eye, I admit that I might be a little convinced that maybe Grandpa Joe is in the right place after all.

  The look on Teddy’s face tells me that it’s not what he wanted to hear, but there’s something about his eyes that’s a bit different from the other times he’s talked about Grandpa Joe. A spark of hope is there that wasn’t there before. Maybe, like me, he’s a little convinced too.

  As the call wraps up, I manage to mediate a reasonable agreement that Teddy will fly down to Denver more often in the off season, and that Grandpa Joe will come and visit us in Seattle.

  His grandpa seems a little grumpy about how infrequently he sees Teddy during hockey season, but when I chime in with the idea that Teddy could get him and that cute nurse free tickets to the games in Denver, his attitude shifts for the better.

  When we say our good-byes, Grandpa Joe makes me promise through a virtual pinkie swear that I’ll join Teddy the next time he
visits. As I hold up my pinkie to my laptop, I see Teddy grinning like a fool in the corner of my screen. It sends a warm tingle through me as I remember the time I stopped myself from offering to join Teddy on his Denver trip. I thought that was something reserved for real, serious girlfriends only.

  But now that’s what I am. Teddy’s real, serious girlfriend. Who really, seriously can’t wait for him to get back to Seattle.

  Luckily, I don’t have to wait too much longer. Teddy’s flight touches down late after the game tonight, but since I have an early morning work meeting, I won’t see him until after work tomorrow.

  • • •

  All day Teddy’s been texting, and I’ve been antsy at my desk, watching the minutes tick by, slowly getting closer to the time I can leave and get to him.

  At five o’clock on the nose, I rush home and ditch my corporate pantsuit, shaking my high pony down into loose, natural waves. I’ve spent all week wondering what on earth Teddy could have planned for this evening that’s worth making such a big deal about. Even though he refused to give me any details, he did give me two very important instructions: dress to impress and come hungry.

  My flirty pink strappy dress and black stilettos fit the bill nicely, and since I worked through lunch, I’m absolutely starving. Now all I need is the third crucial component of this date night— my date. I’m just finishing up refreshing my makeup when the intercom buzzes, sending my stomach jumping for joy and my feet racing across the apartment to let him in.

  I swing open the door and am greeted by a man who could have practically invented the term “drop-dead gorgeous.” Because for a moment, I just stand there like I’ve forgotten how to breathe, bowled over by how handsome he is. Teddy is rocking a fitted charcoal-gray suit and a navy tie, his hair neatly combed back, and has a dozen red roses in his hand.

  My lips part and a tiny gasp escapes me, which makes him chuckle.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he jokes, then moves to hand the roses to me.

  But it isn’t the roses that catch my eye. Screw the flowers. I’ll take the man who’s holding them.