“Probably would’ve gotten the same results.”
For some reason, that makes him smile a little. “You’re right about that.” Then he sighs.
That is a sigh I know well. That’s the kind of sigh I heard whenever Noah was thinking about Meredith and wishing she was here, but knowing he wasn’t going to have her anytime soon. Ian might be in a similar situation. It is definitely odd if he has a girlfriend, which I’m assuming based on the ‘babe’ comment, that she doesn’t want to see him. But then, if he’ll call her out for being a bitch, maybe she’s holding a grudge from the last time he called her that.
Elizabeth didn’t like me calling her uptight. I can only imagine her reaction had I called her a bitch. Honestly, I didn’t think any man could get away with calling his woman that, but it seems that Ian may be able to.
He’s gazing at his phone, as if waiting for her to call or text him, when the elevator doors open.
“Hey, Noah and I are going to eat. Want to come with?”
He’s been on the team for nearly a year, but I don’t think he’s close to anyone. He’s always too busy on his phone if he isn’t required to be around us.
“Looks like EJ is coming with us,” I add when I see him standing with Noah.
“Sure. She’s probably going to ignore me until tomorrow anyway.”
We greet each other and there’s a taxi already waiting outside for us. My phone buzzes in my pocket with a text.
Elizabeth: Marco?
That’s it? Hmm. Kind of weird.
Me: Polo.
Elizabeth: Can you talk?
Instead of answering, I call her.
“Hey,” she answers softly.
“Hey.”
“I’ve had a bad day.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No, I want you to make me feel better.”
Fuck. I wasn’t anticipating this, though I should’ve known better before I called her. “A few of the guys and I are about to get something to eat. We’re in a cab.”
“Oh. Why’d you call me if you can’t actually talk to me?” she snaps, and I realize I’ve kind of missed the uptight, piece of work Elizabeth.
“I didn’t think past the fact you wanted to talk to me.”
“Well you should have!” Her voice has turned shrill as we pull in front of the restaurant, and I know that if I hang up, whatever’s wrong may fester and grow and she could ignore me the next time I call.
“Hey, you guys go on in,” I tell them. “Order me something good,” I say to Noah. We’ve eaten out enough times that he should know generally what I like, at least enough to order a meal for me. “Okay, I’m here for about twenty minutes, Elizabeth.” By the time they are seated, served drinks, and they order, that should be plenty of time before the food even hits the table.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Back to the soft tone.
“You needed me, didn’t you?” I take a seat on one of the benches outside of the building to settle in for the talk.
“No,” she lies. “I wanted you; not needed.”
I shake my head at her. She did need me, whether she wants to admit it or not. She can say want if she’d like. That’s perfectly okay with me. Want is one step away from need. “Fine,” I finally say. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then tell me what you plan to do with Stella and Stephanie this weekend. Are you going to talk me up to Stella? Maybe that’ll make her loosen up to me.”
Finally, I hear her laugh and I know I could hang up after her answer and my job would be complete. “I am not going to talk you up to her. You’re on your own. We’ll probably go shopping, play with dolls, and maybe I’ll get them to bake a cake with me.”
I grin. “You could each have your own little round cake to decorate.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” My mouth opens to speak, but she says, “You can go join your friends for dinner. I feel better already.”
My grin widens. “Want me to call you afterward?”
There’s silence as she debates it. “No, I’ll probably be asleep.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind, just text me.”
“I will. Thank you, Marc.”
“You’re welcome.”
We hang up, and I walk inside. The hostess helps me find the guys. I slide into the booth next to Noah.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. You know how it is. A few minutes talking to me can make anyone’s day better.”
EJ and Ian laugh while Noah shakes his head at me.
“So, how’s North Carolina treating you, Bruiser?” Noah asks.
“It’d be better if my girl would see me.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “Your girlfriend lives in North Carolina?”
He nods. “I can’t exactly call her my girlfriend, but yeah, she lives there.” He takes a deep breath. “She just doesn’t know I do yet.”
EJ, Noah, and I exchange a glance. He’s been here a year come February. How does she not know?
“Long complicated story, boys.”
The waitress appears to place our food in front of us. When a big bowl of pasta is set before me, I hook an arm around Noah’s neck for just a moment.
“See? I knew you were my best friend, Rams.”
He shoves me away. “I have no fucking clue why we’re friends.”
“Because your fiancée would break up with you if we weren’t friends. I’m her favorite Rebel, remember?”
“You guys are fucking weird,” EJ says.
“It’s him,” Noah says, flicking his thumb at me.
Who cares if it’s me? No one realizes that my phone is blowing up in my pocket and I’d bet anything it’s my father again. No one realizes the pail carrying the responsibility, which too often feels like a burden, is leaning drastically to one side.
“Those fuckers are hitting hard,” I grumble as Noah and I plop our asses on the bench after just finishing our shift.
“Need a break to recover?” he laughs.
Our eyes are on the ice, watching Things One and Two do their thing. Thing Two rushes toward the goalie, but at the last second, makes a pass to his brother. A flick of his wrist sends the puck soaring. It looks like it goes across the goalie’s chest, bounces off, and there’s Thing Two to gobble up the rebound. A second later, the entire bench is standing to celebrate the goal.
We needed this. The past few games have been rough to say the least. Right now, it’s the second period and the score is five to one in our favor. We’ve spent so much time in their zone that Eric Kelly, the goalie in net tonight, could take a nap if he wanted.
We bump fists with the guys and one face-off later, we’re headed into the locker room for intermission.
“Don’t get comfortable, boys,” Coach Mike’s voice resounds. “A lead does no one any good if they can’t keep it.”
He’s right. We don’t want to feel good about our lead, which could cause us to slack off, lose our momentum, and next thing we know, we’ve lost the game. It’s happened before. It happens all the time.
My body is already sore from all the hits those bastards have laid on me tonight. It’s going to feel even better to jump back in and play tomorrow in Arizona. Maybe when I get home, I can introduce Elizabeth to some of our stretches and make her do them with me. Just to watch her.
Coach is discussing tweaks he wants us to make, so I push Elizabeth out of my mind to listen. Those twenty minutes always seem to fly by. Today is no different. I wish I could hit them as hard as they’re hitting me, but that’s not our game. We’re physical, but speed is our best strength. Five minutes in, and it seems like they’re slower than the period before. This could work for us.
It does.
Scotty pokes the puck away from a player who has found himself all alone, and Captain Hook swoops in to gain possession before any of the others are even close. Tommy Boy is perfectly positioned and wide open, so Brayden passes it to him. One shot and three seconds later, we’re gathering
for a hockey hug.
Six to one.
The crowd is mostly quiet, save for a few Rebels fans that are here. It’s always interesting to see how many of our fans are around when we’re in places so far away from North Carolina. It’s so cool when they come out in droves in the cities where you least expect them. That’s one of my most favorite things about road games. That, and experiencing the different arenas.
The rest of the game is fairly quiet. No more goals are scored. We shower, pack up our things, and soon, we’re on a flight to Arizona so we’ll already be there in the morning. It’s late when we make it to the hotel, and I’m beat. My body aches. It’s time to relax and sleep.
I’m plugging my phone in when I see a new text. I go ahead and set my alarm for tomorrow before opening it up.
Elizabeth: Managed to listen to the entire game. Glad I did! Congrats on the win.
Me: Thanks. You didn’t have to stay up so late for it. There’s this thing called highlights.
I’m surprised when she texts me back.
Elizabeth: I’d have to watch those.
Me: Right. Sorry. Why are you still up?
Elizabeth: Why are you?
Me: Just got settled into hotel room and just laid down. Answer me.
Elizabeth: I don’t want to tell you.
Me: Oh, now you have to tell me.
Elizabeth: I’m going to bed.
Me: You miss me, don’t you?
Elizabeth: God, you’re impossible.
Me: I’m right?! I miss you too. A lot. You might just have to be my first stop after we land.
Elizabeth: I don’t even know when you’re coming back. That’s how much I don’t miss you.
Me: You’re so counting down the days. Might as well save that night for the date with me.
Elizabeth: I’ll think about it. Goodnight, Marc.
Me: Goodnight. I’d say dream of me, but that’d be redundant, since I already know you will.
Elizabeth: OMG.
I set my phone to the side and go to sleep with a giant smile on my face.
The Arizona game is just as big. Sav gets another shutout. We win with four goals. The last stop is Philadelphia, where we are now. Noah and I always go out to eat at this sweet little hole in the wall when we’re here. Right now, we’re waiting for our food to arrive, and he’s on the phone with Meredith.
“Hold on a sec, Mere.” Noah holds the phone out to me. “I’m tired of her asking me about your love life. Just answer her questions.”
I take the phone. “Hey, Meredith.”
“So! Tell me! I’ve tried talking to Sylvia, but apparently, Elizabeth isn’t telling Sylvia much of anything. I know more has to be going on than what she’s saying. What’s her deal?”
“What do you want to know? Things are good.”
“But why is she a little on the crazy side?”
Her question makes my jaw clench. “Do you want me to go around spilling your secrets, Meredith? She’s not crazy. She’s a woman who’s had some shit happen to her. Surely you can understand that.”
“Back the fuck off, Marc,” Noah snaps.
“Sorry,” Meredith softly says. “I didn’t mean to be inconsiderate. I’ve been dying to know some details; I wasn’t thinking. What can you tell me? Why are Sylvia and Scott so protective over one of their friends? Or is that overstepping?”
I sigh and figure they can know one detail. “Elizabeth isn’t just their friend. She’s Scott’s sister-in-law.” Noah’s eyes widen. “His brother died nearly six years ago in some kind of hockey accident.”
“So that’s why she panicked when she went to the game,” Meredith concludes.
“Yeah.”
“Do you like her?”
I laugh. “Yeah. You can call her and hang out with her, you know. She could probably use another friend other than Sylvia.”
“Really?” Meredith sounds a little excited, which surprises me for some reason.
“Yeah, I’ll text you her number later and let her know you’ll be in touch. The waitress just dropped off our food, so, here’s Noah because I’m hungry.”
I hand the phone back to him and lift my sandwich while he wraps up his conversation with her. When he hangs up, he says, “So, Elizabeth is Scotty’s sister-in-law?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” A moment later, he adds, “What was the hockey accident?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t asked. All she’s said is he died on the ice right in front of her.”
“Damn. But things are good with you guys?”
I nod as I finish chewing the bite I just took. “Yeah. She’s struggling with how to move on, but who can resist me?” I grin and Noah laughs.
“If it wasn’t for her meltdown at that dinner, I’d wonder if you could be serious.”
“Why do I need to be serious? Trust me, Elizabeth needs someone to make her laugh more than anything else.”
Maybe it makes me arrogant, but I one hundred percent believe I’m the person she needs. I’m determined to do whatever she needs me to. I want her to let me all the way in when she feels comfortable with it, but what makes me nervous is knowing I’ll eventually have to do the same for her.
I’LL SEE MARC today.
Marc is coming home today.
I’m freaking the hell out.
For the third time, I accidentally knock over the bowl of icing. Luckily, it’s not something that spills. I baked a cake last night, and I’m decorating it now while a healthy dinner is cooking in the oven. I figured if I’m going to feed him something he’s not supposed to have, I should balance it out by feeding him something he should have.
If he comes over at all.
He said he’d make me his first stop, but since I was working when he landed, he obviously didn’t stop by the house. I’ve been home for an hour and still haven’t heard from him yet. Maybe he won’t show. I almost hope he won’t. My nerves are starting to fray the closer we get to Christmas and Roger’s birthday, which is a little over a week away.
This time of year is always hard on me. I normally become a hermit in my own home and stay that way until February or so once the anniversary and my own birthday have passed. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do this year if Marc is going to be around, which is why I’ve been hoping he’d vanish until afterward to make it easier on himself. If he thinks he’s seen an emotional, crazy, uptight, piece of work Elizabeth so far, I’m only going to get worse the closer to those dates we get.
What’s odd is as much as I want to push him away and deal with it alone as I have been doing all these years, I want to keep him close just as much.
“You free me.”
My alcohol-induced words resurface in my memory to remind me just why I want Marc around. Stupid Sylvia was right. He is good for me. He’s also good to me. I wonder if we’re buying presents for one another for the holiday. What am I supposed to get him? Maybe I don’t know him well enough yet. Maybe it’s too soon for presents to be exchanged. What do I know? The last time I dated anyone I was in high school, and shortly after that, I was married.
Oh my god.
I’ve only been with one man!
A glob of icing squirts onto the cake and I curse under my breath. It’s a little too late to worry about having been with only one man since I can no longer say that anyway. I grab a butter knife, dampen it with water, and carefully remove the icing without disturbing the layer underneath. I nearly drop it when there’s a knock on the door.
Oh god.
He’s here.
I discard the items and the chair squeals from rubbing against the floor. My feet run me to the door, my hand on the knob, but I take a deep breath and force myself to take a moment to calm down. The last thing I need is to let Marc know that I’ve been waiting for him. My body is already humming with a need to see him. My fingers flex on the doorknob when another, louder, more insistent knock comes from the other side along with, “Elizabeth! Hurry the fuck up; it’s cold!”
Laughing, I swing the door open. For a moment, all I see is a chest because Marc pushes his way inside and quickly closes the door before much more of the cold air can blast into my home. He rubs his hands together and blows on them. My gaze travels upward until I see that slightly crooked nose, bright blue eyes, messy wind-blown blond hair, and then my favorite part.
That smile.
He doesn’t even say hello first.
He leans down, my head tilting back even further without conscious intent, and my chest empties of all air when his lips lightly touch mine. It’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. Despite wanting to keep myself in check, my arms wind around his neck to hold him close and my mouth demands he kiss me like he actually missed me. Marc grabs my hips to lift me up. My legs lock around his waist. My lungs finally feel as if they’re taking air in again.
His hands are holding onto me so tightly, I faintly wonder if he’ll leave light bruises. I almost expect him to throw me onto the bed, but he’s not letting me go anywhere as he lies me on the bed while he stays bent over on his knees. He breaks from my mouth long enough to shed me of my shirt. Breathing becomes difficult once more. Marc kisses me fast, steady, leaving me completely breathless, even more so when those large rough hands slide up my stomach, under my bra, and squeeze my breasts.
My head falls to the side. He’s released my mouth to travel down my neck. My chest heaves as I try to regain some control over my breathing. A simple brushing of his thumbs over my nipples in combination with a teasing bite on my shoulder is all it takes to screw up what control I’d gathered. I lift my hips to his. A little rub and he groans.
“I don’t want to wait.” I pop open the button of his jeans. Hell, I don’t care if he undresses at this point. I want him inside me thirty seconds ago. “I need you,” I whisper.
Because It's You (Carolina Rebels Book 2) Page 8
