Chasing Paige (Washington Guardians Hockey Book 2)

by Ellen Devlin

  I hope that this goes over okay with Paige.

  ***

  “Can I take you out to dinner Friday night?” Chris asked. He was calling from the road; they were on their way back from an east coast road trip to Montreal and New York, so there was no jet lag to worry about. “We’ll be getting in around three o’clock, so I can pick you up. Or you could meet me at my apartment, if that would be easier.”

  Paige hesitated a moment before answering. “I’m so sorry, I have a work obligation that night. How long will you be in town? Are you free Saturday night?”

  “We’re playing a home game at seven Saturday night, so that won’t work. But what’s the work event? That’s pretty unusual for you to have school commitments on a Friday night, right? Is it parent/teacher stuff? Or sports?”

  Smiling at his interest in her life, she replied, “No, it’s actually a fundraiser. The marching band is trying to raise enough money to purchase new uniforms, and the students have organized a silent auction. I’m going to attend to support it.”

  “Oh. That’s cool.” Thinking about it for a moment more, he asked, “Really? The kids organized it?”

  “The whole thing. All of the donations, the flyers, everything.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed. That’s so much more ambitious than I ever was in high school.”

  Paige laughed. “Right? Me too. These guys are really amazing.”

  There was a pause before Chris asked, almost shyly, “So, um, can you bring a date to this event?”

  Her heart twisted in a way that had become achingly familiar when dealing with Chris.

  “Really? You would want to go?”

  Chris had to stop himself from staring at the phone. “Baby, of course I want to go. I would love to go with you.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, long enough that he felt a little anxious as he asked, “Would it make you uncomfortable for me to be there? I don’t want to upset your plans.”

  Paige started; she hadn’t realized that she had been silent. There were all kinds of things running through her head.

  “Are you sure you want to go to this, Chris? It’s a high school fundraiser. This is not a big event, you know? It’s just parents and some community people, and the bidding items are things like dry cleaning gift certificates. You don’t need to do this, Chris. I mean, this isn’t the kind of thing that you’re…”

  “Paige,” Chris interrupted her. “Stop. Breathe. I remember high school, baby. I’m not under any delusions as to the glamour factor here. This is a special event for your job, and if you’re all right with people knowing that we’re dating, then yes, I would really like to be there with you.”

  She choked out a little laugh and replied, “Yes, Chris, that would be great. I would love for you to meet some of my co-workers.”

  He let out a breath, relieved that she would allow him into this part of her life.

  “Well, um, could I contribute something? For the auction?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Maybe a signed jersey? Would that be appropriate?”

  Paige was floored. “Are you serious, Chris? That would be amazing. The kids would be thrilled.”

  Smiling, Chris said, “Well, I mean, it’s not dry cleaning, but…” and was rewarded with an easy laugh from the other end of the phone line. The conversation had become strained at some point along the way and was finally starting to feel normal again.

  “Well, dry cleaning is difficult to top.” Taking a quick breath, she added, “I would never have asked you. You know that, right?”

  “Why on earth not?”

  “Because I don’t ever want you to think that I’m trying to take advantage of your position, of your job. Of the fact that you’re a famous pro-athlete. I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m interested in what you do more than who you are.”

  She heard a deep sigh on the other end of the line.

  “Thank you, baby. I never would have thought that of you. Not ever. But thank you.” He chuckled for a moment. “And it’s very sweet of you to call me a ‘famous pro-athlete.’ Not remotely accurate, but very sweet. I’ll be amazed if anyone recognizes me on Friday.” Another sigh. “I know you have to go to bed. Thank you for staying up to talk with me. It’s the best part of my day.”

  “Me too, Chris. Safe travels. I’ll see you on Friday.”

  ***

  Chris arrived at the apartment Friday night dressed in a full suit and tie.

  Liz let out a low whistle when she answered the door.

  “Damn, Chris.” She spun him around before she let him in the doorway, checking out the whole effect. “I like it. Very stylish. I mean, you always look nice, but I don’t think I’ve seen you in a full suit before. Except on TV, arriving at the rink before games, of course. But they only show you guys for a second.”

  “Well, thank you.” Chris came in the door and sat down at the kitchen table when Liz finally released him from her inspection.

  Paige called, “I’ll be right out, Chris!” from her bedroom.

  “Have you always…I don’t really know how to put this…‘dressed up’ when you were younger? Or is that a more recent thing?” Liz gestured to herself, adding, “As you can see, my fashion sense runs toward jeans and…well, jeans. That’s about it.”

  “Well, you know that we’re required to dress in a suit to travel with the team,” Chris started, and Liz nodded in agreement. “So when I started playing with Columbus, I just, well, got a little over-zealous in my clothing purchases.”

  Paige emerged from her room, wearing a beautifully simple red wrap dress that accentuated her figure, and Chris made a low rumble of appreciation.

  Standing to greet her properly, he took her hand and twirled her around slowly, whispering, “Wow, baby.”

  Paige blushed and said, “Thanks,” giving him a kiss. “Please keep telling your story. It sounded like you weren’t finished.”

  Chris looked confused for a moment, until Liz said, “Your suit-buying spree?”

  “Oh, right! Sorry…”

  Liz interrupted with, “Oh, please, you got distracted by my beautiful roommate. Like that’s the first time that’s ever happened around here.”

  Chris chuckled. “Anyway, for a little while my teammates called me ‘Suits’ rather than ‘Becks.’ Thank goodness that was short-lived. But I ended up just, you know, liking the way I looked dressed this way, I guess.” He looked slightly embarrassed by this admission, and Paige felt that familiar heart twist.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Liz said. “I agree—you always look great, Chris.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged Paige. “Have fun tonight!”

  She walked back to her room, and Chris offered his arm to Paige. “Shall we?”

  ***

  “Thank you again for coming with me, Chris.” Paige called him Monday afternoon after school. “Not only was your jersey one of the highest-bidding items Friday night, but apparently I am now deemed the coolest teacher in the entire school.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Evidently the word got around fast, because I had students more attentive and engaged in class than ever before, and even past students were stopping me in the halls to say hi and, you know, ask me.” She said the last two words in way that made it sound like a great mystery.

  “Ask you what?”

  Paige laughed and said, “If it’s true, of course! ‘Are you really dating a hockey player, Ms. Smith?’ And then the occasional Guardians fan that would ask with obvious awe, ‘Are you really dating Chris Beckman?’”

  She sounded joyful and at ease, and Chris found himself grinning and laughing along with her.

  “I’m so glad, baby. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel when people knew.”

  “Oh, um, speaking of knowing things…” Paige paused for a moment and then rushed on, “So, I accidentally mentioned that you like poetry in my senior class.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m so sorry, Chris! It slip
ped out. One of the guys was saying disparaging things about poetry being boring, and I just…well…it was a target of opportunity, and I didn’t think before I spoke.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Chris was feeling a little odd about this but couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, and when he responded affirmatively, she said, more quietly, “I didn’t say anything about ‘Cloths of Heaven,’ I promise. I wouldn’t share anything that intimate.”

  Chris breathed out, relaxing. “Thank you, baby,” he responded quietly.

  “Of course.” He heard a little catch in her voice. “I’m sorry I said anything without checking with you first. I’m not used to this kind of interest in my personal life, you know? I need to learn to navigate this.”

  “I understand. It can be weird suddenly having this kind of attention.”

  “Thank you.”

  There was a pause for a few moments. It seemed to happen periodically when they were talking, even on the phone. Just a quiet sharing of space together.

  “Can I see you tomorrow night?” Chris finally asked, his voice carrying his desire.

  “Yes,” she said, sounding suddenly slightly breathless. “Yes, Chris. Tomorrow night.”

  ***

  At practice the next afternoon, his area of the locker room was covered in bright yellow Post-it notes, each with a truly horrible limerick. They weren’t even all in the same handwriting, although he was certain Zee was behind it.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, pulling yet another Post-it out of the sleeve of his jersey as his teammates laughed, all adamantly denying any knowledge of how, or even why, there would be such an abundance of lewd verse floating around.

  Chris was laughing as he called them all a bunch of assholes.

  ***

  The next morning was his weekly call-in.

  “So, we are joined again this morning by Chris Beckman of the Washington Guardians. Hey, Chris. How’s things?”

  “Hi, guys,” he responded. “Thanks for having me on. Going well.”

  JD chimed in, “How’s that little hottie of yours?”

  Chris shook his head and said, “Really? Leading off with that today? You do remember that there’s a whole lot of hockey we could talk about.”

  The guys laughed, and JD continued, “True, but I heard more from my little bird.”

  The other hosts were, once again, giddy.

  “Really? What’s going on?”

  “What are you not telling us, Chris?”

  “Well,” said JD, “apparently our man, Chris, is very secure in his masculinity and enjoys poetry.”

  After the locker room prank, he wasn’t really surprised by this. He said, “So, what you’re saying is that you have forgotten that we play hockey here. Okay, I’ll humor you. Yes, I enjoy poetry.” He paused and then added, “And long walks on the beach and sunsets and rainbows.”

  The guys started laughing, so he threw in, “And puppies, piña coladas, and walking in the rain.”

  “All right, all right, we get the point, Chris. Just teasing. But it has now been confirmed that your hottie is an English teacher, right?”

  “Come on, guys, can we please talk about hockey?”

  They relented finally. “Yes, we’ll talk about hockey. Just one more quick thing, though: Is it true that there were Post-it notes with limericks all over your gear in the locker room yesterday?”

  Chris laughed out loud, finally, and said, “Yes. I can confirm that the Guardians players are borderline illiterate and that the only poems they know are about men from Nantucket.”

  ***

  He gave Paige a call after school to let her know what had happened, finishing with, “Sorry, baby. There were no names given, but I just wanted to let you know that the news is out that I’m dating an English teacher. And that I like poetry.”

  There was a pause before she replied.

  “Oh.” She sat down while processing this. “All right. I mean, do I need to worry about this?”

  “No, not at all. There shouldn’t be any problems. I doubt that anyone would contact you.”

  “Is this my fault? Because I blurted that out in class?” She was starting to sound a little panicky.

  “No! No, Paige.” Chris sighed. “It might have made this happen a little faster, with a little more flash, but with me doing the weekly radio spot, and then we went to the silent auction together…a few more specifics about you were bound to come out sooner or later. Folks already knew that I was dating a stunningly beautiful woman. People would notice you no matter who you were with.”

  Paige was quiet for a little while before responding.

  “I understand. I am really sorry, Chris.”

  “Baby, this is part of the deal for me. It’s fine. They ask questions; if it’s too personal, then I dodge giving answers. It’s part of the job.” Sensing her discomfort, he tried to reassure her further. “Paige, it’s not a problem for me. Not at all. I love…” He caught himself. “I love being seen with you. You’re amazing.”

  “Thanks.”

  Still not convinced that all was well, he asked quietly, “Is it a problem for you? Are you upset?”

  Paige paused for another moment before answering. “No, I’m okay. This is just all really new for me.”

  “I know. I appreciate it. Truly.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, making plans to see one another, and then hung up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chris was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee, watching as Paige finished grading the last of the papers stacked on the small dining table. She had begun spending more time at his apartment, sometimes coming over directly after work to wait for him to get home from practice. He had already given her a key and was almost surprised how quickly it felt completely normal to have her there and just how much he loved it. How much it made this place where he slept feel like home.

  He had even started idly looking at houses, realizing that this was the first time in his adult life that he found himself wanting to set down roots somewhere. When they were traveling, he often found himself browsing real estate websites, imagining what he would want in a permanent residence.

  “Seriously?” she said aloud, talking to the paper in front of her. “One, two, three…” she continued counting silently and then continued, “Ten. Ten!” Turning to Chris, she clarified. “He used the word ‘excited’ ten times in a two-page paper. Ten. Times.” Turning back, she addressed the page again, “How about ‘enthusiastic,’ huh? ‘Giddy?’ ‘Vibrating with anticipation?’” Tossing her red pen down in disgust, she muttered, “Make a small effort already.”

  Chris was trying not to smile. She was frustrated, but he was finding it adorable.

  “So…not a fan of repetitive word usage, I take it?”

  She rolled her eyes and walked over to him.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I understand, I really do. They’re kids. I don’t expect Shakespeare. But for God’s sake, Chris, they all have the internet. An interactive thesaurus is literally at their fingertips.” She pulled down a wine glass and poured herself a glass of merlot as she continued, “Hell, the word processing program has suggestions built right in. We’re talking a minimal amount of effort to make an enormous difference in writing quality.”

  “You are so damn cute.”

  She rolled her eyes at him again, but there was a smile starting.

  “Just cute?” she asked. “Not stunning? Spectacular? Groin-tighteningly beautiful?”

  Chris laughed out loud at the last one and moved to pull her to him, one hand on her backside, pressing his groin against her, enjoying her small intake of breath as she felt the evidence of his attraction growing against her.

  “You tell me, baby,” he said, caressing her ass gently.

  “What would you like me to tell you, big guy?” she asked, her earlier irritation giving way to a more playful mood. Moving her hand across the fly of his pants, she continue
d, “That there appears to be a tent forming in your slacks? That you seem to be sporting a stiffy? How about that I like the feel of your wood under my palm?”

  He was unable to keep a straight face, torn between laughing at her increasingly absurd phrases and arousal from her continued stroking.

  “I do like the feel of your Johnson, your twig-and-berries, your one-eyed trouser snake coming out to play…” She put her wine glass down so she could continue with both hands. “…the way your family jewels start to tighten as I fondle your nuts while stroking your salami.”

  He pushed her away, laughing. “Enough!” Looking at the sparkle in her eyes, he said, “I can’t believe you know all of these euphemisms.”

  “Big guy,” she said, pushing against his chest, maneuvering him toward the couch, “I’m a word junkie. I want to know all the words.” Pausing to stroke his length again, she said, “I could do this all night, talking to you about the increasing angle of your dangle, the heat of your meat, the feel of your one-holed-friction-whistle.”

  The last one made him laugh out loud again, and he put up his hands in surrender. “I give. You win. Even I have never heard that last one.”

  She now had him standing in front of the couch.

  “Words have power, Chris. They’re practically magic, the way they can shape how we feel. They can uplift or devastate, amuse or arouse, comfort, captivate, tantalize…” She began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. “…frustrate, irritate, tease…” She pushed his pants and boxers to the floor and began to unbutton his shirt, running her hands up his chest. “…and I want to know them all. The proper names, as well as the slang.”

  “Really?” His voice was rough with desire as she pushed him to sit on the couch.