Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance

by Kate Willoughby

  “What’s inside of that?”

  “Pork and vegetables.”

  “I dip everything in the soy sauce mixed with the chili oil,” Hudson said.

  I noticed a little pot of orange-colored oil with what looked like flecks of hot peppers in the center of the table.

  “It looks hot,” he said, “but it’s not that bad. The mustard is good too, but it’ll clean out your sinuses if you’re not careful.”

  “How is it you know so much about dim sum?” I asked him. I scanned the tabletop. Not a fork in sight. I sighed inwardly.

  He shrugged. “My family lives in Brooklyn and we eat out a lot. Honestly, I think one out of every ten restaurants in New York is Chinese.”

  “Okay, I’m going to try one of those footballs first. It’s deep fried and anything deep fried has to be good.” I flagged down one of the staff. “Can I have a fork please?”

  “I’m sorry,” AJ said. “Did you just ask for a fork?”

  I bristled. “Something wrong with that? Just because I look like I do doesn’t mean I automatically know how to use chopsticks.”

  AJ gaped at me in surprise and frankly, I was pretty shocked by my outburst too. It was uncalled for and I was immediately swamped by remorse.

  “Sorry, Indi,” AJ sputtered. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Honest.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s sorry, AJ. You’re fine. I overreacted. I don’t know what came over me. I’m really sorry. It’s just…I’m touchy about people making assumptions about me based on how I look. My mom and dad brought me home from China when I was a baby, so I’m as American as you guys. I just don’t look it.”

  “It’s cool. I understand,” AJ said. “Won’t happen again.”

  “You know, you wouldn’t have a problem if you just learned how to use these,” Ruby said, sliding an unopened pair of chopsticks toward me.

  It bugged me that she was right, of course, but I tore the wrapper off them anyway.

  You can do this, Indi, I told myself. How can you expect to wield a scalpel if you can’t even use chopsticks?

  “Okay, here goes,” I said.

  Concentrating on my grip, I reached for the football. It actually looked like the most difficult thing to get a hold of because of its shape, but I’m nothing if not stubborn. As my chopsticks slipped off the rounded surface over and over, I felt like everyone was watching and judging me. It was obvious I was a poser and didn’t know a fortune cookie from a pagoda. Heat rose in my cheeks and I almost grabbed it with my fingers when Hudson bumped my arm.

  “This is how I do it.” He showed me how to spear the football with one of the chopsticks. “Now just pinch, like this. See? It’s cheating a little bit, but it gets the job done.”

  It totally worked. I got the football to my plate feeling triumphant. After dipping it into the soy sauce, I bit into the crunchy dumpling and oh my gosh, it was really strange, but so good. The outside shell was delightfully crispy while just under that was a chewy, slightly sweet layer and in the middle of the mostly hollow football was a bit of seasoned ground pork. The soy sauce brought out all the perfectly balanced flavors and textures.

  Ruby and Hudson were watching me intently and I nodded slowly. “Amazing,” I said around the mouthful. Using Hudson’s spear-and-pinch method, I took a sui mai and it was just as delicious.

  Afterward, Hudson asked if Ruby and I wanted to hang out at their place until they had to go dress for their second game against UConn.

  Ruby shook her head. “I have to study, but you should go if you want, Indi.”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Okay. That sounds fun.”

  “Aw, come on, Rube,” AJ said. “We can play video games or ping-pong or watch The Princess Bride.”

  “Sorry,” Ruby said. “School comes first.”

  “Okay. Sure. I understand,” he said, looking dejected.

  Because they were low on groceries, AJ dropped Hudson and me at their place before taking Ruby home and then heading to the store.

  I really should have hit the books too. I had a quiz tomorrow, but so far, my psychopharmacology class was pretty easy and a quick review of my notes before I went to bed would probably be enough.

  Their second-floor apartment was almost right in the center of town, with gorgeous views of the lake and mountains. Hudson told me the building used to be a railroad warehouse until they converted it a few years ago into apartments.

  The interior of their place was big and I was jealous of how much space they had. There was a TV show about downsizing to live in tiny houses and I wondered if any of the people on the show had ever lived in a dorm. My personal hope was that I would never in my life have to live in such crowded quarters again.

  “I like your place,” I said. “It’s really nice, like something out of a Pottery Barn catalog.”

  The whole apartment was a collage of warm grays and cream and looked like it had been professionally decorated. The furniture looked new and there were accent rugs and plants and artsy knick-knacks that gave the whole place a cohesive style. Neither AJ nor Hudson seemed like people who would buy a floor vase filled with eucalyptus sprigs so I wondered if their apartment had come furnished. The only thing that defined this as the domain of two college guys was the green ping-pong table in the middle of the dining area and the tally of game wins taped to the wall.

  “Funny you should say that because it did come from a Pottery Barn catalog,” he said with a laugh. “Page fifty-six. The Hudson Collection. I’m not even kidding. When my mom saw that, it was a no-brainer.”

  I took a peek in his bedroom and saw a similar muted style. A queen-sized bed with a thick oversized-plaid comforter and actual matching throw pillows dominated the room. The furniture had black iron accents and a huge plush rug made everything cozy.

  That’s when I noticed Deke’s house. I didn’t see him on the top floor, so he must have been nestled in all the fluff on the bottom level. Hudson noticed my interest and came over.

  “He’s asleep right now and unfortunately, he doesn’t like to be disturbed otherwise I’d let you hold him.”

  “That’s okay. Some other time. I guess hamsters need their beauty sleep too.”

  “So, you want something to eat?” he asked. “I have some graham crackers or yogurt. Or I could make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  “You’re not serious, are you?” I asked, plopping down on their comfy sofa. “I’m stuffed from the dim sum.”

  “Yeah, I noticed you packing it in.”

  I scoffed. “Like you weren’t eating a good ten minutes after I was finished.” I sighed. “Do you think AJ’s okay? I really didn’t mean to snap at him like I did. It’s just one of my hot buttons when people assume stuff because I look like I’m Chinese.”

  “I hate to break it to you, lady,” he said with a chuckle, “but you are Chinese.”

  “No, I only look Chinese.”

  He shook his head as he sat down next to me. “I don’t really understand, but that’s fine.”

  “It’s like this. If you go into Wang’s and you don’t know how to use chopsticks, no one judges you. But if I do the same thing…it’s embarrassing.”

  “But you used the chopsticks today. Sure, you weren’t great at it, but you did it. Problem solved. But let’s say you didn’t. Let’s say you decided to use the fork. Who cares? I mean, I think Forte is an Italian name but I’m honestly not sure, and where my mom’s side of the family comes from is a muddle too. So if I don’t know anything about my heritage, why should you?”

  I had honestly never looked at it like that. He was right. Just because my ethnicity was more obvious than his didn’t mean I was more obligated to know about the culture of my ancestors. And yet, I couldn’t pretend the feelings weren’t there.

  In the end, I decided this was a “me problem.” I really felt bad about how I’d snapped at AJ so I decided, if this particular hot button was pushed in the future, I’d suck it up and deal instead of lash out. I didn’t want
to put it on other people to walk on eggshells around me because I had mixed-up feelings about my heritage. At the same time, I would try not to care as much what strangers thought of me.

  Feeling like I’d turned some kind of corner, I turned to Hudson. “What you said makes a lot of sense, but if you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Honestly, me neither. Mostly,” he said with a mischievous grin, “because I haven’t kissed you today yet.”

  “I hadn’t really noticed,” I said then yelped as he tickled me.

  “Liar,” he said. “You probably spent the night dreaming about my kisses.”

  I squirmed to escape because I was really ticklish.

  “Admit it!” he said, mercilessly finding all my most ticklish areas.

  “Okay, okay! I did dream about you last night. I dreamt we did it in the hockey arena.”

  He stilled. “No shit. Really?”

  Flushing, I nodded.

  I almost never had sexy dreams and this had been a doozy. We were making out in the penalty box of the empty hockey arena. Hudson was wearing street clothes and I was wearing nothing but his jersey—the one he’d worn during the game. Normally, I’d think this was gross because of all the sweat, but in the dream, it was a huge turn-on, for both of us.

  He was kissing me hard and I was freezing but I didn’t care. I was burning for him from the inside out and his warm hands were roaming all over my body. My back, my sides, my waist, my ass. Miraculously, his clothes disappeared and I was pressed up against the side of his Wrangler. He had hoisted one of my legs up and he fucked me hard.

  “What happened?”

  “In the dream?” I gasped. “I’m not telling you!”

  “Come on.” He pulled me close and nuzzled my neck. “I promise if I ever have a sexy dream about you, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Even though a whole-body shiver went through me and my heart was beating faster, I said, “No. No deal. Absolutely not.”

  “Can you at least tell me if I was good or not? I mean, I need to know if I have a lot to live up to.”

  He kissed me and his lips were warm and giving and as always, my body heated immediately. As I reveled in his closeness, part of my brain wondered if a person could get addicted to another person, like to through withdrawals and everything. I knew that cravings were one sign of addiction. Check. Another was indulging even when you knew it was detrimental and I was blowing off studying for my quiz for Hudson Time, so check again.

  “You were actually horrible. You didn’t make me come and then you went to get a hot dog. That’s probably Freudian for something.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you’re the one who dreamed it, so whatever the hot dog represents, that’s all you.”

  “Jerk,” I said, smiling as he pushed me onto my back.

  As we made out with hot, long, deep kisses, I surrendered to the heady feeling of Hudson on top of me, his tongue in my mouth, his erection hot against my leg. Lord, the man knew what he was doing. I was awash with delicious sensations and when he slid his hand under my shirt and squeezed my breast, I arched. My nipples contracted and hardened and he groaned into my neck.

  Desperate to feel more, I shifted so that one of my feet was on the ground and he was wedged between my legs. I was rewarded with direct grinding pressure on my clit. Yesss. It felt divine, especially when I wrapped my other leg around his hips to intensify the feelings.

  We were both breathing hard now. My head was crowded against the couch cushions and I really wanted to shed some of my clothes. But Hudson was thrusting and rubbing himself against me and I didn’t want him to stop. The only orgasms I’d ever had were the do-it-yourself kind, but that seemed like it was going to change. I could feel it building. As long as he kept doing what he was doing…

  Beep-beeeep. Beep beep beep. Beep-beeep. Beep beep beep.

  At the sound of the car horn, Hudson stopped moving. “Shit damn piss fuck.”

  “What?”

  “That was AJ warning me he’s back.”

  He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. I followed suit, tugging my shirt back into place.

  “You want to continue this in my room?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

  Even though I was really turned on, I was reluctant to have sex for the first time while AJ was out here twiddling his thumbs, trying to ignore what was happening on the other side of the bedroom door.

  “I don’t think so. You have a game to play soon and you need all your energy.”

  “It wouldn’t take that much energy,” he whined.

  “Good to know,” I said with an arch smile.

  A split second later when he got the dig, he scoffed and said, “Now you’re going to get it!” And when AJ came in a minute later, I had to beg him to stop Hudson from tickling me to death.

  17

  Hudson

  Two weeks had passed since our home opener and we’d really begun to gel as a team. We had won both games the weekend before, which left us confident and ready to face the eight games scheduled for November. Seb Hunter, one of our top defensemen had returned after a minor injury took him out for a week and my own performance seemed to be back on track.

  At least, I thought it was back on track. Unfortunately, that didn’t turn out to be the case. Once again, life decided to pile a hat-trick-plus-one of shit on.

  First, we were up against the Eagles. Tied for the record of the most Frozen Four appearances, Boston College was a tough opponent with a strong defense and even stronger forwards. On top of that they’d won the game last night, so we had our work cut out for us.

  Then my dad called to tell me the “good news” that he would be there. While I was grateful he cared enough to make the trip from Brooklyn just to watch me play, Dad’s game analysis was always more brutal if he attended live. Not only that, but Indi went home to visit her parents and because Brattleboro was only a couple of hours from Boston College, they were all coming to the game.

  Despite that extra stress, I thought I had a handle on everything.

  Then later that morning, we were on the bus headed for Chestnut Hill and I got a call that upped my anxiety level to seven point five out of ten. Doug Lyddane, one of the player development guys for the Dragons, said he, too, was coming to the game.

  “I’d love to touch base with you afterwards,” Lyddane said. “See if you need anything.”

  I wanted to tell him I needed a fucking Valium but managed to hold my tongue.

  “Great,” I told him. “Looking forward to it.”

  We held our own in the first period with neither team scoring, but in the second period, I caused a turnover by falling onto the ice, and my mistake resulted in a goal that went unanswered into the third period.

  Now, ice is obviously slippery and sometimes a skater just loses his edge or hits a weird spot in the ice, but this was my third fall of the season and I was known for my skating. It was as if I’d traded bodies with a high school varsity player with big dreams and substandard skating skills.

  I managed to disgrace myself one more time that night by completely missing a pass from Bramley.

  “I gave you a heads-up,” he accused when we were back on the bench after our shift.

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Then get your fucking hearing checked, for Christ’s sake.”

  After the game, Doug Lyddane came to see me. My dad was on his heels, looking worried.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said to them both. We’d lost the game, 3-1.

  Lyddane shook my hand and clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t apologize. I’m not sorry at all. You’re a fine player, Forte. You just had a bad night.” He turned to my dad. “He’s a chip off the old block, Dom. You should be proud of him.”

  “I am very proud,” my dad said with a fixed grin.

  “And team captain, too,” Lyddane said. “I forgot to congratulate you on that, Hudson.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  A
fter Lyddane left, my dad said, “How about we grab some dinner and then I drive you home to school? We can catch up on the way.”

  “Gee, Dad, that sounds great, but Indi is here with her parents and I’m having dinner with them and then Coach said it was okay if I drove back with her.”

  His brows rose. “You’re meeting her parents?”

  “I am.”

  “You’re not getting serious about this girl, are you? Because judging from your performance today, you can’t afford any distractions. Don’t get me wrong. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy and I would never try to tell you to deny yourself in the sex department, but in my experience, there’s a tipping point with women and once you get past that they start demanding more of your time and attention.” He touched my chest with his index finger. “You cannot afford that right now. Once you’ve made it into the NHL, fine. Get serious with whoever you want, but right now? You need to be focused one hundred percent on hockey.”

  I knew from experience arguing wouldn’t do any good, so I just said, “Right, Dad. One hundred percent.”

  I wasn’t sure if I could focus on hockey any more than I already was.

  “All right. Good to see you, son. We’ll get together soon,” he said, giving me a backslapping hug.

  I arranged for AJ to make sure my gear got home safely, told Bramley he was in charge and headed to Spinners, the restaurant where I was to meet Indi and her parents, Kevin and Bonnie.

  After I kissed Indi hello, Bonnie gave me a hug. “So, you’re Hudson. We’ve heard so much about you.” She wore frosted pink lipstick and smelled like flowers.

  “We’re sorry for your loss,” Kevin said giving me a hearty handshake. “Your hockey loss, that is.” He was a big man with a ruddy complexion and the sort of body you’d expect from someone who owned a restaurant.

  “You win some, you lose some,” I replied.

  We sat down and opened the menus.

  “How is it you’re not sick of pizza?” I asked Kevin because Spinners was a pizzeria.