by Toni Aleo
Absolutely crushed, Em made her way to the kitchen. Nothing that happened between the two of them had meant anything to him.
She sat down by the breakfast bar because her legs weren’t feeling too steady. Someone spoke to her, but she waved him off. She was an idiot. Sure, she was smart about theoretical things, but when it came to capital-L Life, she was clueless. Maybe she should give up on the whole dating scene and pursue that PhD. After all, she loved her work. She and Isaiah could roll off into the sunset together.
“Hey, Em.”
Great. If she’d only thought for one second, she would have known that the first place people go once they arrive is to the kitchen. She pasted a smile on her face.
“Hello, Ian.” Then she smiled—bared her teeth, really—at his date. “Hi there.”
“This is Monica,” he said.
“Hi, hi.” Her voice was high and girlish. They were clearly the perfect couple; he covered the bottom register of the scale, and she took the top.
Ian opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. “What would you like, Monica?”
She bent over to look inside the fridge, and her boobs practically tumbled out. Em was positive that Ian would enjoy that view, but when she glanced at him, he was looking at her. And at her face too.
“Where’s Thomas?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” she answered.
“Oooh, cranberry Hard Lemonade. I’ll have that,” said Monica. She straightened up and handed the bottle to Ian.
He uncapped it. “Do you want a glass?”
“Yes, please.” As he poured it, he kept darting glances at Em. After he handed the drink to his date, he turned back to Em. “So what happened to Thomas?”
“Cheers,” said Monica. She held her glass out to Ian and Em, and they all clinked.
“I broke up with him,” she said. “Probably about five minutes after I last saw you.”
“Oh, that’s very sad,” said Monica. “It’s always tough to break up over the holidays.”
Em tried to smile, but it was beyond her self-control to have to talk to the woman who was going to be enjoying Ian’s sexual prowess tonight. Something that Em herself had been hoping to do.
“Excuse me.”
Em stood while Monica was nattering away and made her way to the bedroom where she had stashed her clothes earlier. She wanted to leave, but she didn’t want people making a big fuss about her going before midnight. She changed back into her jeans, sweater, and boots, and then stepped onto the balcony. It wasn’t a huge drop, and there was a big snowbank. Em didn’t really like heights, but the thought of seeing Ian with Monica again was incentive enough. Em threw her knapsack and purse over the railing and watched them plop down in the fluffy snow. Then she vaulted over the railing. There was a brief sensation of flying, and then she too landed in the snow. She stood and brushed herself off. Doing such a super-heroine feat made her feel better.
“Yay,” she declared with arms extended. Sure, it was Ian’s dumb goal celebration, but it was surprisingly satisfying. Then she drove home.
“Cheers, Isaiah.” Em held up a glass of sparkling wine. Her hedgehog lived in a large glass terrarium with a wood stump where he liked to hide. He was there now, so her New Year’s Eve toast went unnoticed. In half an hour, it would be midnight. Em always made resolutions, and she decided that this year’s would be around relationships. Maybe she’d take Ian’s advice and let things happen naturally instead of planning. Then his presence in her life would have served a purpose and not been completely regrettable. She wouldn’t be able to go over to Abby and Mason’s until she was fully over Ian. The New Year was not starting off well.
The condo intercom buzzed. Em started to rise, then decided not to answer it. All her good friends were at the party, so it was probably a drunken stranger or a mistaken pizza delivery. It rang a few more times, then whoever it was gave up.
Em picked up her book and started reading again. She’d go to bed after midnight so she wasn’t a complete loser.
Then someone knocked on her door. Em froze. Who could it be? She decided to pretend she wasn’t home and turned down the volume of her music.
“Em, I know you’re in there.” The voice was loud enough to pierce a solid wood door. “I’m going to keep knocking until you open up.”
Em sighed. She walked over to the door and opened it. Ian walked inside without another word. He started to take off his coat, but Em put a hand on his arm.
“You’re not staying,” she said.
“I damn well am. We have a lot to talk about.” Then he shed his coat and boots and marched into her living room.
He sat on the couch, and his presence felt too big and masculine for her pale pink room.
“Did you jump off the second floor?” Ian asked.
“Maybe,” said Em.
He shook his head. “I was watching the front door, so I knew you hadn’t left. I searched every single room, and the only thing I noticed was a sliding door cracked open. Your footprints were on the balcony and your body print was in the snowbank. Em, you’re nuts. You could have hurt yourself. Did you think I’d stop you from leaving?”
Em shook her head. “I didn’t want to have to see you again. You and Monica. Where is Monica, anyway?”
“She’s still at the party. Last I saw, she was dancing with Barry from hockey.”
Em checked her phone. “You’ve only got fifteen minutes to get back and get your midnight kiss.”
Ian tilted his head. “I’m hoping for something better.”
Em scowled. “We’re not making out. You hurt me.”
“You hurt me too.”
“That’s different, I didn’t know you’d assume something so illogical. Why would you think I liked Thomas when we were getting along so well? I mean, I had sex with you. That’s something important to me.”
“It’s important to me too,” Ian said, his voice oddly soft. “Look, Em, I feel like we’ve had a lot of misunderstandings between us, so I want to tell you the truth.”
Em waited in suspicious silence.
“I’ve liked you ever since the first day I met you. Like really liked you. You’re my fantasy woman.”
“Right. You asked who the chick was with the great tits.”
He snorted. “Oh, you heard that? Well, give me a break. There were lots of girls there with brown hair. It seemed like the quickest way to find out your name.”
“If you liked me so much, why were you always so rude to me?”
“I don’t know.” He clenched and unclenched his hands. Em recalled the feel of his calloused fingers on her bare skin. “Well, maybe I do know. It’s because you give me a hard-on every time I see you. Bugging you eases that.”
Em scowled at him. “You’re mean to me because you can’t control your penis? Seriously?”
“It’s kind of a defence. If you were as nice to me as you are to Mase, not being with you would hurt worse. You were something I couldn’t even hope for.”
Despite his ridiculous logic, Em heard the sincerity in his voice. Once again there was that sweet vulnerability he showed at the hockey game. This whole side of Ian she never knew existed.
She reached out and patted his arm. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I should have explained about Thomas. I do that a lot—assume people think the same way I do.”
“Nobody thinks like you do,” Ian replied.
Em slid down the couch to sit beside him. “So, what I’m hearing is that to make this work, we need to communicate better. Like you answering my calls and texts.”
“Guilty.”
“Okay, let’s shake. We promise to be honest with each other.” Ian tried not to smile as they shook. But he didn’t let go of her hand. Instead he put his arm around her and pulled her close.
She leaned against him, enjoying the warmth of his big body. “My New Year’s Eve is looking up.”
He pulled out his phone. “Still ten minutes to go. Maybe you’d like to put that dress back on.”
<
br /> “Oh, did you like that? I bought it for you.”
“I liked it so much, I only want you to wear it when we’re alone. You were causing guys to walk into walls in that dress.”
Em decided not to mention Monica. If Ian wanted to think she was the sexiest woman at the party, why not let him?
She went to her bedroom and changed back into the dress. And she found the tickets too.
Ian’s eyes widened when she returned. “You’re a rocket, Em.”
Em held out the envelope. “I got you tickets to the Leafs-Sens game, but I hear you already have some.”
Ian whistled. “You look like this, and you have hockey tickets? What a woman.”
He opened the envelope and raised his eyebrows. “These are better than mine. I’ll give my tickets to Mase, and I can take you instead.”
Em frowned. “Ian, what if it doesn’t work out between us? Who gets to keep hanging out with Abby and Mason if we break up?”
Ian pulled her into his lap. “Stop worrying, princess. Nobody can predict the future. Let’s start by making tonight freaking awesome.”
She made a living trying to predict the future. But maybe Ian was right. Em decided to trust him—even if there was zero data to back him up.
“Happy New Year,” she said and leaned in for a long, lovely kiss.
~ THE END ~
Books by Melanie Ting
Vancouver Vice Hockey series
The Tao of Hockey (Vancouver Vice 1)
An Irresistible Force (Vancouver Vice 2)
Second Round (Vancouver Vice 3)
Mr. November (Vancouver Vice 4)
Coast to Coast (Vancouver Vice 5)
Other hockey romances
Hockey Is My Boyfriend series
How The Cookie Crumbles
About Melanie Ting
Melanie Ting lives, writes, and cheers on hockey in beautiful Vancouver, British Columbia.
Discover her hockey romance series about a struggling AHL team—the Vancouver Vice. The first book, The Tao of Hockey is free on all vendors. Find it here: The Tao of Hockey
Sign up for her mailing list and get a free short story about an optimistic hockey fan and an awkward tech geek: http://eepurl.com/2OT31
Email | Website
Mary Smith - The Devoted Father and the Introvert
Elexis Dunaway loves Twitter and work. Dag Limon loves his twin boys and playing professional hockey. Soon their worlds will collide with one simple tweet.
Chapter One
Elexis wiped down the counter for the twentieth time. The customers at The Latte Bean still trickled in but closing time was growing closer, and she couldn’t wait. Not like she had any plans because she never did. However, she wanted to get back to her apartment, do some homework, and rest before she started job number two at the library in the morning. The Latte Bean covered her rent and bills and such, but her work at the library filled her heart. Reading to the children, helping to stock the shelves of new stories, and interacting with other book lovers brought a smile to her face every day. Although she didn’t need to, she worked both jobs because she loved to work.
“Elexis.”
She stopped her task and turned to her boss, Janie. “Yes?”
“Why don’t you head out? I can close up.”
Her mouth slacked slightly. “Really?”
Janie grinned. “Yep. Go on, kid, and finish your school work.”
Elexis hugged her boss, thanked her ten times, and raced to the time clock. She knew Janie wouldn’t change her mind but didn’t want to take the chance. She grabbed her purse, tossing it over her shoulder, and headed out the door toward the bus stop. It wouldn’t be coming for another ten minutes, so she paced in a small circle and checked her phone and Twitter.
Due to Elexis’ long work hours, she spent the majority of her time at home—alone. Honestly, she enjoyed being alone. Well, not really, which was why she loved Twitter. If she had to say she had a true love, it would be Twitter. She felt connected to people, without actually being around them.
While growing up in a small town in upstate New Hampshire, Elexis hardly had any friends. Sure, there were a few but none of them stayed around long enough because of her mother’s extremely busy schedule and her own shyness. Besides, Elexis’ mother kept a tight hold on her and wouldn’t let her do much.
When she heard the bus, Elexis looked up from her phone. She felt a small grin on her face as she eyed the advertisement on the side of the bus. New Hampshire Bears. The professional hockey team ruled the city. Really, the entire state. They even held a special place in Elexis’ heart. In middle school, her class took a field trip to Manchester. She knew nothing about hockey, had no clue what the game even entailed or saw a single second of it. The moment the players hit the ice, Elexis’ eyes remained locked on everything in front of her. From that moment, until this very day, she loved her Bears, as she called them.
She slipped in her earbuds as she found an empty seat. The sound waves filled her ears from the latest podcast of the Bears. A lot has happened in the offseason and since the new season would begin tomorrow, it brought a buzz into the air. Last season’s nightmare left the Bears one point away from the playoffs. Some blamed Bas Zorn for the loss since he had been out on medical leave for almost the entire season until Oliver Matthews held a press conference and told the truth regarding Bas’ medical leave. It brought the community together and showed how amazing the hockey world truly was to the world. Fans may hate each other during game time, but when tragedy struck, the fans became a family no matter what colors they wore.
“Who’s going to be traded?” Jerry Cannon, the leading Bear expert, began. “The Bears haven’t traded a single player in over three seasons. What the hell were they thinking?”
They’re thinking they have a great team and don’t want to mess it up. Elexis thought as she rolled her eyes.
“This team is becoming a nightmare. It needs fresh blood and the time to do it is now.”
Elexis continued to listen to the ramblings of Jerry Cannon’s words, which caused her to grow angry. She loved her Bears just the way they were and sure as hell didn’t want to see a single one of them leave. On the other hand, she knew he was partially correct. The Bears’ chemistry had changed in the past couple of seasons, and a new outlook would be needed soon. But who would they trade? Jerry Cannon went through his list, and then he said the one name she didn’t want to hear.
“What about Dag Limon? What has he done lately? We all know about his personal problems and clearly they’re affecting his time on the ice.”
She turned off the podcast and tapped the Spotify app.
Dag Limon, a defenseman, stole her heart at sixteen. Her heart hurt thinking about her favorite player being traded.
Sounds crazy, right?
However, it was true.
Thinking back to the moment he stole her heart, she had saved all her money from babysitting during the summer to ensure she would be at the home opener in the fall. She begged her mother to let her take the car, drive all the way to Manchester, watch the game, and then wait for the players’ outside of the entrance to—hopefully—receive an autograph. More than once Elexis’ mother told her no because she was only sixteen, but she kept on until she broke her mother.
The excitement bubbled over on that day. Her body jerked and twitched, waiting in line to be let into the arena. The tears burned the back of her eyes as she sat down, right in front of the glass. Nothing more than plexiglass separating her from the players. As she watched the warm-ups, she stood on her feet, praying to catch a puck. Sure, they mainly gave them to kids, but she hoped one would drop to her. Dag Limon had been just the one to give her one. He kicked it over the glass with the tip of his stick, and it landed perfectly in her hands. Almost as if he sent it to her. Just for her.
By the end of the game, her cheeks hurt from smiling, her voice hoarse from yelling and growling the Bears cry, but she still went to the entrance and waited for the
players with several other fans.
Clutching the puck tightly, she watched players come in and out. A few came over to the crowd, but none saw her. She didn’t want to force her way to the front because it wouldn’t be polite but waiting her turn hadn’t been working for her.
As the fans began to leave, thinking no other players were going to come out, she remained, desperate to have just one player speak to her. About to give up, the doors opened and who walked out but—Dag Limon.
“Out here all alone, eh?” He strolled over to her.
“Um…” She barely remembered how to speak when she saw his chocolate brown eyes.
“Would you like me to sign it? Or are you waiting for someone more popular?” He joked, nodding to her puck.
“You gave it to me.” She blurted out in nervousness, shoving it at him. “Over the glass, I mean.” Taking a deep breath, she prayed for her nerves to calm down.
He chuckled at her, pulling a Sharpie from his pocket. “I remember. Glad you caught it. What’s your name?”
“Elexis.” Thankfully, she remembered her name.
He scribbled on the puck and handed it back to her. “Have a great night, Lex.” He flashed her a bright smile, turned and walked away.
To this day, she considered it her most treasured item.
Stepping into her apartment, she felt a sense of relief. She adored her place. She could afford it and loved the location. Albeit small didn’t even cover the square footage of it, it was all hers. You could see the entire apartment because it was an open layout. Her tiny kitchen had a two-burner stove. The fridge couldn’t hold more than a half gallon of milk, and her sink looked as if it belonged in a dollhouse. Her mother gave her a couch as a moving in present and until recently she didn’t own a TV. She found her bedroom set on sale and thanks to her income tax return, she didn’t have to put it on layaway. Even though she had been thrifty with her purchases, she admired every piece because she worked hard for it.
