by Mignon Mykel
“What do you mean?” I trailed one hand down her neck, hooking my hand around the back gently.
“I don’t…I just…” Her eyes shifted around the room and she puffed out her cheeks. “It’s been a long time.”
There were those secrets she held so close to her. She had more to say.
But I wasn’t going to press. Not right now.
“One moment at a time?” I asked her.
Her lips twitched and one corner moved—barely, but it moved—up into a partial smile. “Okay.”
I squeezed her neck gently and nodded. “Okay.”
Sometimes I was such a girl.
The tears that came when Porter told me he was afraid of me being skittish? What the hell were those? I’ll tell you what those were.
That was me being a complete and total girl.
But to be honest? It was also me being extremely afraid.
I liked spending time with Porter, and I loved his family. For the first time in eighteen years, I had a place to belong.
To know that he was attracted to me and wanted to be with me, put to ease a lot of the doubts and questions running through my head, but the deep ones still thrived—what was I going to do when it came time to more?
When it came time for sex?
I could feel my heart starting to pound and I forced my mind back to his words.
One moment at a time.
I could worry about it later.
Right now, I wanted to live in this moment. The second slow song had to be coming to an end, and soon I wouldn’t be so wrapped up in this man’s arms. I wanted to take this all in and hold it with me for when he was gone.
Because he would go.
I rested my cheek against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart under my head. He kept a hand on the back of my neck but had returned his other one to the bareness my back. I liked feeling his rough hands on my skin. And the way he was holding me, was with a protectiveness I had never experienced before.
He lived in South Carolina right now, and I was working and thriving in Wisconsin, under the guiding hand of his mother. This would never work in the long run.
Then, if and when things ran their course between he and I, what was I going to do? Lose the only family I felt accepted me? Maybe I could find the Douglas family.
Which then reminded me what a piss-poor friend I was, because I still hadn’t found a way to contact either Carter or Hunter.
I was a terrible person.
It was only a matter of time before the Prescotts found that out and—
“Hey, hey, hey.” Porter lifted my face again. He brought a hand up to my cheek and it was then that I realized I was crying again. “What’s wrong?”
I just shook my head. There were so many demons in my head he didn’t need to know about.
He let me have my non-answer, instead, wiping away the tears from my face. With his hand on my face and looking down at me, he asked, “You going to San Diego for Christmas?”
I shrugged. “I was invited.”
He nodded. “Please come.” I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “And then maybe in January, when the team has a bye week, you can come down and visit.”
A week.
A week with Porter.
I bit my lower lip and flitted my eyes between his. He was watching me with…
Hope.
“Okay.” The word was heavy, but in the sense that I felt the weight lifted from me.
“Yeah?”
I nodded, the rough feel of his hand against my cheek sending thrills through me. “Yes.”
His smile was quick and blinding, and my eyes darted to the dimple in his right cheek. My fingers itched to trace it, but I kept my arms wrapped around his back instead.
He nodded once. “Good.” He repeated the word, softer, but I heard it and it made me giggle—just a little one.
With the hand he had on my face, he moved my hair behind my ear, his eyes fixed on my piercings, I was sure. His eyes still there and not on mine, he asked, “Can I kiss you?” His brows drew down and his eyes squeezed tight at the corners. Finally, the bottle-green orbs moved back to mine.
This time, the pounding in my chest had little to do with the failures I was sure would come when it came time for more with this man. I pulled my lips in between my teeth and nodded.
His grin was crooked as he ran the pad of his thumb over my drawn-in lips.
He pressed his thumb to my lips, moving around the wetness he left behind.
I blinked back the memory, trying hard to focus on the here and now. If Porter noticed my brief zone-out, he certainly didn’t show it.
“I need these,” he said.
Then, both his hands were on my face and he tilted my head back slightly. I released my lips on a breathless gasp, my heart pounding, my body ready. I slid my hands from his back to his hips, feeling the cut of muscle there.
When his lips finally met mine, my fingers tightened into his sides and I couldn’t stop the sigh from escaping. I let my eyes drift close, willing to let my senses take over.
The chatter around us dimmed. The crooning music stayed in the forefront of my mind, but it was Porter who surrounded me.
His full lips pressed lightly against mine, with the smell of his cologne wafting around us.
His hands on my face, holding me possessively to him, but I found it was something that I craved.
Before I could start to worry I was doing something wrong, I felt his tongue against the seam of my lips. My mouth dropped open and then his tongue was in my mouth, and mine was in his.
This wasn’t a power struggle. This was a slow, sweet kiss; a kiss where we learned one another. I learned his taste, the feel of his mouth. My favorite though, was how he held my face so dearly in his hands.
He wasn’t just taking the kiss.
No, he was giving, too.
It had been a long time since I kissed a guy, since I’d been kissed. Two years, maybe?
But this was unlike any kiss in my early teenage years. This kiss had the potential to mean…
Everything.
The music changed, pulling me from the moment. I moved my head back and stared up at him, my lips still parted.
When he smiled down at me, I couldn’t help but do the same.
I paced just outside security, anxiously waiting for her to walk down the hall. I checked my phone again. Her plane was supposed to land ten minutes ago.
I moved my pace to the arrivals and departures board, checking her flight number for likely the hundredth time since I got here.
Arrived.
Thank God.
My phone pinged with an incoming text.
Just landed.
I typed out three different messages before I finally just hit send on the last one. Cool. See you in a few.
I nodded to myself. That wasn’t so bad.
But maybe it wouldn’t come off with how excited I was to see her.
Shit.
I opened the message thread up again. Can’t wait to see you.
That was better.
I slipped my phone into the back pocket of my jeans after shooting a text to my parents to let them know Ash landed safely, and crossed my arms over my chest. I was wearing a light hooded Henley and a beanie on my head. I noticed a few cell phones lifting and taking pictures, but I didn’t give a fuck if my mug appeared on some social media site in the next ten minutes.
I cared about the girl who would be walking down this very hall in a few minutes.
After McKenna’s wedding, we saw each other at Christmas in San Diego. God, every time I saw her, she seemed more comfortable and sometimes even more in awe.
It was a tradition my brothers started, but for Christmas, I got everyone my replica jersey—Asher included. I don’t think she’d ever experienced a Christmas like this last one. Later, she told me she felt bad that she didn’t get gifts for the adults.
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I maybe took her aside then, and kissed some sense into her.
The smile on my face now, at the memory, was automatic. I couldn’t wait to kiss her again.
Kissing was as far as we’d gone over the short Christmas break—after all, I’d been due back to South Carolina on the twenty-sixth—but I was pretty excited to see if things would progress this weekend.
Or if they’d dwindle. That was always a possibility.
But then I thought about the few text messages sent over the last three and a half weeks and shook my head to myself.
Nope. They weren’t dwindling.
I moved to stand where she’d be able to see me, not really caring if I was blocking the view for some other person waiting. I widened my stance and with my arms crossed over my chest, I kept my eyes trained as far back as I could see. My gaze shifted over the different travelers coming in; the only person I wanted to see was a brunette with crazy colored eyes.
And then I saw her.
The feeling that overtook me was like a drowning man getting his first breath of air. A starving man getting a fucking full-course meal.
She didn’t see me yet, but she would in time. There were maybe eighty people between us and she was nearing.
Her hair was braided over her shoulder, wisps of hair falling out and framing her face. She was wearing leggings and those damned boots of hers, but I was surprised to see her shirt was the girly type, long with cuts up the sides, nearly to her waist, and lacy sleeves that played peek-a-boo with the colors adorning her arm. She didn’t carry a bag, just her phone in one hand.
I licked my bottom lip before biting it gently, trying to stop the smile from spreading on my face. Didn’t want to look like a complete moron.
Forty feet.
Her gaze was down at the floor, no doubt watching where she was walking. It didn’t surprise me she was careful like that.
Thirty feet.
Look up, Asher…Look up.
Twenty feet.
Her face lifted and, like a magnet, her eyes locked on mine instantly.
And the smile on her face?
God damn.
There was no sense stopping my full-ass smile now, not with the one she just shot my way.
If you would have told me, four months ago, I would be the most celibate man in the history of earth, all for the glimpses of smiles from that girl there with more secrets behind her eyes than I could ever hope to uncover, I probably would have laughed in your face.
Four months ago, I was gearing up for my rookie season in South Carolina.
Four months ago, I was a kid with a big name, going to a team that had nothing to do with said big name.
Four months ago, it was rumored I would be the new hot shot in town. Nico certainly didn’t fail to show me the gossip sites, seemingly run by a bunch of puck bunnies.
But four months ago, I walked into Starbucks for a goodbye coffee with my sister, and met the girl with secrets.
And four months ago, I became addicted without so much as a taste.
Now that I’ve had that taste? Shit, I couldn’t wait for more.
Asher’s steps quickened as the crowd dissipated; only ten people separated her from me.
I uncrossed my arms and moved to help close the distance.
Then my heart fucking faltered in my chest as she closed the last of the distance and threw her arms around my neck.
What the hell was this change?
Not that I really cared. Nope. My dick certainly didn’t either.
I wrapped my arms around her waist, my arms long enough to wrap all the way around her. My fingers pressed into her stomach through the slits in her shirt. She was so damned small in my arms, but I didn’t give two shits. If anything, it just made me feel like Superman.
I pulled my back up, lifting her from the ground.
I turned my head toward hers, my nose buried in the wisps of hair in front of her ear. “God, I missed you,” I admitted to her.
It wasn’t a line. It was the absolute truth. Who knew you could miss someone you barely knew?
She pulled her head back, smiling down at me. I lowered her to ground, wanting more than anything to someday do that greeting again, but with her legs wrapped around me.
Complete trust that I wouldn’t let her down, wouldn’t let her fall.
These thoughts where she was concerned were so fucking foreign to me, but hell if I cared.
Still smiling, Asher’s brows drew down in thought as she said, “I missed you, too.”
Needing some sort of even ground again, I gave her the cocky, sarcastic Porter I could sometimes be. I winked at her, adding, “Of course you did.”
But still, reluctantly I let her go. “Baggage claim?”
She nodded and I stuffed my hands in my pockets, leading the way. “I wasn’t going to check it, but decided I didn’t want to lug around a winter jacket, so I stuffed it in my bag and checked it at the gate,” she spoke from beside me.
“That’s the way to do it.”
She murmured her yes and we walked, side by side like we didn’t just hug the hell out of one another, toward baggage claim.
Fucking A, it was like we continuously took steps backwards. Sure, the hug was a surprising leap forward, but now we were like strangers.
Well, fuck that.
I took a hand from my pocket and reached for hers. I felt like a freaking twelve-year-old with his first girl.
Ooh, holding hands.
But seriously? What was this walking next to each other and not touching shit? I wanted to touch her.
And then she stepped closer and fit her fingers between mine, and all was right in the world again.
“Do you have Nico’s car?” she asked, looking over at me.
I chuckled. “No, I thought the bike would suffice.”
The disbelieving look she shot me had me grinning and shaking my head. “I have a vehicle with doors to transport you to my place.”
I heard her, “Smartass,” comment under her breath, but didn’t call her out on it. I was too busy comparing this Asher to the one I saw at Christmas, all the way back to the one I met in September.
It did something to me, knowing she was opening up and being who I thought was likely the real Asher. Maybe I’d get to see even more this week.
I slowed as Porter led me, hand in hand again, to the vehicle he was driving.
This was not Nico’s car.
Porter was still walking at our original pace, so when I slowed, he ended up tugging on my arm. He stopped, throwing me that cocky grin he had.
“Like my ride?” He tugged on my hand gently and I went to his side willingly.
Willingly.
Everything I did with Porter was willingly.
Like that hug. The smiles.
I was finding myself in Beloit with his family, but felt like I was myself with Porter.
“It’s…fancy,” I finally said. I didn’t know much about cars, but I did know that this was likely a top-of-the-line coupe. The Mercedes-Benz logo gave most of that away.
It had a beautiful white paint job and was sleek in the way fancy cars were, with smooth lines and a graceful slope. This was most definitely an expensive car.
It was one thing to know that the family you were basically living with was a family of hockey players and the like. Noah and Ryleigh didn’t live like it, though, so it was easy to forget there was money in their lives.
Suddenly I felt like I was in the very wrong place, at the very wrong time.
I was a foster kid who came from nothing.
Girls like me didn’t live fairy tales like the one I found myself in.
Porter tugged on my hand, grinning. “You still with me? You zoned.”
I gave him a partial smile and shook my head. “Sorry. I was just thinking.” Then, to try and fix my silence, I asked, “How long have you had it?”
It looked brand new.
; Like, off the lot, new.
But I also knew that Nico took his car through the car wash every other day, so maybe Porter was the same way.
He stepped close to the back and swept his foot under the bumper, making the trunk pop up. Grabbing my bag, Porter placed it in the back and closed it gently. “A week. C’mon. Let me give you the grand tour.”
This time, my smile was legit. “It’s not a house.”
Porter took my hand again and brought me to the passenger side, unlocking the door by just touching the handle. He opened the door but before helping me in, he pulled up the tan leather seat so I could see into the back. “Room for two. In the middle, there, is a cooler,” he said, pointing to a middle console in the back seat. If it had been a regular car, that fold down would be for the trunk or even just a seat.
He looked so damn excited that I couldn’t help but smile at him.
“And then,” he started, putting the passenger seat back in its upright position. He gestured to it and when I didn’t move, he said, “Well, get in.”
“Oh. I didn’t know where this tour was going.” My tone was light and the words were in jest, even if I was feeling in over my head. I folded myself into his car, but with the door not opening fully because of the car next to it, and Porter’s body, it was hard to do without brushing against him. I bit down on my lip as I sat, my hands folded in my lap.
I looked up at him, waiting for more of his tour, and was struck by the way he was looking down at me. His eyes were an incredibly clear green at the moment but quickly, the moment was gone and I watched as the color darkened just slightly as he seemed to get back in the now.
What had he been thinking?
“Alright. So.” He kneeled between the frame and the door. “Down here you have your usual buttons to move your seat, right? And you have butt warmers.” He flushed and it was oddly endearing. “I mean, seat warmers. We joke and call them butt warmers back home,” he rambled. His fumble was just enough to lighten some of the tension in my gut.
“Okay. One second.” He pulled himself up to his full height and after being sure my hands remained in my lap, moved the door nearly shut and, lo and behold, the door did the rest of the closing on its own. Then Porter jogged around the front, squeezing his body between the front of the car and the cement wall. I tracked him with my eyes as he made his way to the driver’s side, sliding in.
