That again? Sam slammed her hand into her thigh, spinning around to face Chicklet. “Is that all that matters to everyone? The damn game? I don’t fucking care—”
“Careful, girl.” Chicklet’s eyes narrowed. She glanced over her shoulder at Raif, who’d gone still. By his side, Thora whined and nudged his hand. Chicklet spoke softly, a sharp edge to her tone. “The ‘damn game’ means everything to some people. Including White.”
Great, now Sam felt shitty. Raif wasn’t smiling anymore. Chicklet was mad at her. And apparently, her one attempt at being a Domme on her own had been a mistake. She’d expected Chicklet to be impressed. Maybe laugh and help her plan out her next move.
Instead, she felt like a kid learning to ride a bike who’d taken off her training wheels too early and had the scrapes and bruises to show she wasn’t ready.
She had to be ready. At this point, she was so far behind Shawn fucking ‘Easy’ Pischlar, she might as well be trying to win the Daytona 500 on a tricycle. Her best efforts were downright ridiculous.
There had to be a way to jump back in the race. She dropped her gaze as Chicklet watched her expectantly and swallowed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was… I didn’t think. Please don’t hate me?”
“I don’t hate you, kid.” Chicklet sighed as she put an arm over Sam’s shoulders. “But next time you think ‘What would Chicklet do’, how about you call her and ask?”
“Deal.” Sam bit her bottom lip, glancing up at the older woman. “So…what would you do? I mean, if you were me?”
Raif joined them, feeling the arm of a dark gray sofa Thora was sniffing. “Forfeit?”
“Unlikely.” Chicklet reached out and took Raif’s free hand, twining their fingers together. “Some people are worth fighting for, no matter the odds. If I wanted to prove I cared, to show I knew I fucked up, but I wasn’t going anywhere, I’d look at what I had to offer, rather than worrying about the competition.”
“But I don’t have anything!” Sam looked down at herself, not sure she’d ever felt this plain in her life. She was young, fit, and cute. In her tight, black ripped jeans and her bright blue tank top, she’d gotten a few appreciative looks from men in the store, but those guys weren’t Ian. Ian had Shawn and Justina.
Both were appealing in their own way. Shawn had everything going for him. And Justina was sneaky cute and sweet. More dangerous because she didn’t even know how to play the games yet. She just had to stand there and be adorable for men to want her.
Sam couldn’t do cute. She failed at sweet. And she’d fumbled trying to be sexy and in control.
“Honey, you’re still living with the man. Maybe you should stop trying so hard.” Chicklet plunked down on the sofa both Raif and Thora seemed to like, smiling as Thora sat at her feet and rested her muzzle on Chicklet’s thigh. “Has he brought up you finding your own place?”
“No…”
“Well then, maybe you should mention it. See where he stands.” Chicklet ran her hand over the arm of the sofa, cocking her head. She gave Thora a hard look. “You gonna eat this one too if we get it?”
Thora licked Chicklet’s hand.
“Fine, but I’m trusting you.” Chicklet smiled at the dog, then turned back to Sam. “He’s asked you to go with him to see his grandmother this summer. That means he’s not looking at you as temporary. So work with that. Show him where you fit.”
That made a lot of sense. Sam slipped her hand into her back pocket where she’d stuck her phone, flashing Chicklet a hesitant smile. “Thank you. I know I fucked up, and you’re not happy with me. But I’m so grateful you still want to help me.”
“Good. Don’t make me regret it again.” Chicklet waved her away, brushing her hand over Raif’s to get his attention. “Come sit. Tell me what you think of this one.”
Wandering off, Sam took out her phone and pressed speed dial to call Ian. She found an armchair a little ways away from the sofa section and settled down, tucking her feet under her.
“Hey, Sam.” Ian sounded out of breath, like he’d been running. It was still a few hours before the game, so he might have been warming up. “How you doin’?”
“Good. You?” Sam chewed on her bottom lip as he went quiet. Yeah, she’d definitely fucked up. “Look, let’s not be all weird. I get it. I acted like a total head case, and I hope you aren’t pissed.”
“I’m not.”
Great. She pressed her lips together. He sounded good, but careful. Like he had no idea how to talk to her anymore.
Time for some damage control.
“Okay, I’m happy to hear that, but I need you to understand something.” She took a deep breath. “I really am cool with you and Shawn. With this whole open thing. I wanted to show you, but I think I messed up.”
“You didn’t. I’m fine.”
Bullshit. You’re fine with him. Not me. She rested her head on the backrest of the chair. “Cool. So when do you want me to pack my shit?”
“What?” He sounded like he was paying attention now. His tone changed, softening. “I don’t want you to leave, Sam. I just… I don’t get what’s going on.”
“What’s going on is you’re with me. And you’re with him. And… Damn it, did you really listen to a word I said?”
“Yeah, but I’m worried you’re just telling me what you think I wanna hear. Like you’re giving me what you think I want.”
“I’m not.” She lifted her thumb to her lips, chewing on the edge of her nail. Something she hadn’t done since she was a kid. “How can I convince you? There’s no instruction manual for how to make a relationship like this work. I like living with you. I wanna meet your grandmother. I want…damn it, I want all of it. I love you.”
She almost wished she could take the words back. His sharp inhale could be heard clearly. She held her breath, ready for him to end the call. Or to be the nice guy and tell her he cared about her, but…
That but would clear everything up real quick. She couldn’t get past that.
Instead, he made a rough sound. Then cleared his throat. “You do?”
“Yes. You’re a better man than I deserve. I know that.” She chewed harder at her thumbnail. “But, like, I’m at a furniture store with Chicklet and Raif. And what they have? It’s awesome. I wish I could have that. I wish I could be looking at furniture for your place. I think you’d like this chair.”
Lame much?
Ian laughed softly. “What does it look like?”
“What Chicklet and Raif have? Hell, I can’t describe it, it’s like…special. Like they’re so comfortable with one another. I thought it was weird at first. I tried to see who belonged to who, you know?” She’d figured Tyler was Raif’s, and Laura was Chicklet’s, and the four of them kinda fucked and then split off in pairs. But she’d been so wrong. There were no clear lines. The love wasn’t limited. All four of them shared and had a bond she envied. “I guess I saw love like a pot of stew, you know? Like you could only give out so much.”
“I saw it like that too.” Ian sounded like he was smiling. Happy. “But I was wrong and it’s good you see that too. I don’t wanna have to choose. And I know that sounds selfish, but—”
“I don’t think it does.”
“Really?” He seemed hopeful. Like he’d been torn before, but she’d given him a reason to explore the possibilities. “So, just to be clear, you aren’t mad, you’re fine with Shawn, and you’re not moving out?”
“I never really moved in.” She knew she was pushing it, but better now than when she got comfortable. “But I’ll go if you want me to.”
“Nope.” Ian paused, then laughed. “I was asking about the chair though. Before?”
“Oh!” She laughed. Damn, this man was awesome. He’d already gotten over the fucked up shit. She stroked the arm of the chair. “It’s a soft brown leather chair.” She reached over to pop up the footrest. “I could so sleep in this thing. And it’s big enough to cuddle in.”
“Buy it. Like, seriously. Take the phone to t
he sales person. I’ll give them all the info.”
“Do you mean it?” Sam hopped out of the chair, sure she must look silly, grinning so much over a chair. “You haven’t even seen it.”
“I don’t need to.” Ian’s tone was all soft, as though he was smiling. “You like it, and I want you to feel at home in our apartment.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She lifted her hand to her lips. “Don’t fuck with me, Ian.”
“I’m not! You like my place, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…but I’ve been looking for my own, you know that. And we haven’t known each other that long…” Not that she really cared. She was happy at his place. Happy with him. If he was serious, she’d stay.
“Sam…” Ian cleared his throat, sounding solemn now. “You’re going with me to see my grandmother. I think we know one another pretty well.”
“True.”
“So I’m gonna get the chair. And if there’s anything else you want—”
“Let’s start with the chair.” Sam inhaled quickly, bouncing in place. “It’s so awesome. I’m taking custody if this doesn’t work out between us.”
“Deal.” There was a muffled noise, then the sound of Ian stepping outside. “I gotta head to the rink for warm-up soon as we get your chair, but it was awesome talking to you, sweetie. Wish me luck?”
“For what?” She slapped her hand into her forehead, remembering why he was in freakin’ Toronto. “Shit, forget I said that. Obviously, good luck for the game. Kick their asses. And be careful.”
“Will do.”
“I love you!” Sam chewed at her bottom lip, wondering if he’d say it back.
He laughed softly, his tone warm. “I love you too.”
Yes! Sam did a little dance, grinning at the salesman who’d been on his way over. He hesitated, giving her a bemused smile.
“My boyfriend wants to talk to you about this chair.” She handed him the phone. “Because I’m taking it home.
“You’re going with me to see my grandmother.”
Shawn rubbed his scruffy jaw, eyeing Ian as they headed to the rink. He wanted to ask the man what the fuck that was all about, but he was still on the phone, giving his credit card info to order a damn chair Sam had apparently fallen in love with.
Because, naturally, she needed furniture at his place.
She wasn’t a guest anymore. She was living with him.
As soon as he finished buying the chair and giving directions for where to have it delivered, Ian hung up and stuffed his phone in his pocket. He grinned at Shawn.
And Shawn did his best to smile back.
Ian’s brow creased. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Shawn hooked his thumbs to his pant pockets. “So…Sam’s going to meet your grandmother?”
“Yep.” Ian’s eyes fairly glowed as his grin grew even broader. “Grandma loves her. I don’t know if she’ll remember talking to her, but fingers crossed.”
Nodding slowly, Shawn wet his bottom lip with his tongue. “So I guess you don’t want me to go anymore?”
The man stopped short, his eyes wide. “Shit, I didn’t even think…I mean, I figured you’d want to spend time with Justina.”
“Of course I do.”
“This works out better then. Right?” Ian scratched his thick beard, wrinkling his nose as though he still wasn’t used to the thing. It made him look wild—not quite a caveman, but close. His eyes held a softness though, all warmth and caring, like he was worried Shawn would be hurt. “You didn’t really want to go. I begged you because I didn’t think I could manage alone, but I’ll have Sam.”
Keep smiling. Just fucking nod and smile. Shawn let out a tight laugh. “So long as you’re not alone. Your grandmother should meet your girlfriend.”
“Yeah…” Ian rolled his shoulders as they continued walking. “I’ll miss you, man.”
“You’re not gone yet, buddy.” Shawn put his arm over Ian’s shoulders, squeezing his arm. He didn’t want Ian getting all depressed before they hit the ice. “We win tonight and we’re headed to Detroit. I’ll get you to myself a few more times.”
“Yeah…and, it’s not like we won’t hang out when I get back.”
Maybe not, but things will change. A lot sooner than I thought. Shawn inhaled even breaths, forcing himself to look completely relaxed despite the sharp splintering pain in his chest and the tightness in his throat.
Might as well have been goodbye already.
Ian didn’t need him anymore.
Chapter 33
Ian let his mind wander as he taped his stick, not really paying attention to the conversations going on around him. They needed to win this game. And then all the ones against Detroit. Maybe let it go to game seven in both rounds. Make the post-season last a little longer.
For some reason, he had a feeling everything would change once they hit the offseason. And he wasn’t ready for those changes.
He might never be.
“White, check these out. These should be good, right?” Bower shoved something in Ian’s face and Ian took it, not really seeing anything. “I think those should go well with her dress.”
“Yep. They’re perfect.” Ian tried to focus on the magazine. When his eyes fell on a bunch of flowers that looked like they had little clits in them, he blinked, looking from Bower to the magazine and back again. “Dude, what the fuck is this?”
“Flowers?” Bower rubbed a hand over his face. “Look, Silver wants me more involved in all the planning shit for the wedding. Dean’s an asshole, so he found the place and picked the chairs and the music. I’m stuck with flowers and tableware.”
Ian held a thumb to the page and flipped the magazine closed. Seeing BRIDES GUIDE on the front made it hard to breathe. He dropped the magazine and slid away from it.
“Sorry, man, but I’m pretty sure that shit’s contagious. Go with the pussy flowers, they’re interesting.”
“Pussy flowers?” Richter chuckled, ambling over, a big smile on his lips. He picked up the magazine and flipped to the page that had crumpled on impact. “Ah, cymbidium. Not a horrible choice, but I think Silver will agree with White on their resemblance to a woman’s vagina.” Richter flipped to another page and handed the magazine to Bower. “Whatever she says, her heart’s already set on these.”
Bower’s whole bearing eased up, like a heavy load of pressure had just been lifted from his shoulders. “I fucking love you, man.”
Richter smirked. “I know.”
A few feet away, Vanek started humming the Star Wars theme. By his side, Demyan snorted and ruffled his hair before joining in.
Rolling his eyes, Richter looked over at Ian, speaking in a mock whisper. “At least it’s not that Lion King song again.”
“Dean!” Bower groaned as both Vanek and Demyan started crooning out Can you feel the love tonight? Which they apparently knew very well and sang very badly. While the rest of the team laughed, Bower thumped his forehead into his goalie mask, his cheeks blazing red. “You are aware they don’t have an off button, right?”
“I am.” Richter leaned close to Bower, as though speaking to him, but Ian caught him brushing his lips over Bower’s ear.
He looked away, returning his focus back to his stick. He didn’t have an issue with PDA, but damn, most of the guys kept it real private. Bower and Richter more than most. Ian hadn’t even been sure they fucked until…well, now.
Usually, Richter didn’t like the guys being too friendly in the locker room, but the way the GM eyed the stitches along the goalie’s jaw, Ian had a feeling he was a little worried.
Not that Ian blamed him. That had been a close fucking call.
“Be safe out there.” Richter moved away from Bower, straightening his dark gray suit as he looked over the entire team. “You guys have had a solid run. Not everyone can be here, with us, but…” The GM’s tone wavered, but he quickly recovered, flashing a smile. “But in a way, they are. They’re counting on you to finish this. They believe in this te
am. They gave everything to see us all reach further than most of the league believed we’d be capable. So you fucking go out there and show the world the Cobras are a damn force to be reckoned with. We’re taking home a win, boys!”
Standing and tapping his stick on the carpet, Ian joined the rest of the team in shouting out a loud cheer. Donning the rest of his uniform, he headed out to the ice with the men, ignoring the boos from the crowd. With long strides, he circled the Cobra’s zone, bumping Vanek, then Richards, his heart racing as got himself ramped up for the game.
Positioned in front of the net, Shawn and Ladd shot pucks at Bower, not getting much by him, but doing what they could to get him in the right headspace. A few other guys picked up pucks and tested the goalie, but Ladd seemed more determined than most. His shots were precise, and when one went in Bower laughed and waved him over.
Ian could hear both Ladd and Shawn laughing at whatever the goalie said. Then Ladd nodded. He’d probably been warned not to show the other team Bower’s weak spots.
Which was kinda funny. Bower didn’t have many, and few matched Ladd’s incredible aim and speed. He’d be an elite level player in a few years.
Fuck that, he’s pretty much there now.
One hand curved around the back of Ladd’s neck, Shawn pulled the rookie close and bumped helmets with him. Ian slowed his laps around the zone, wondering if he should worry about the attention Shawn was showing the kid. Not out of jealousy, though he couldn’t completely avoid the slight sting. He was more worried how Mason would react if he thought Shawn was fucking with the kid.
Ten minutes later, Ian sat on the edge of the bench, watching Shawn take the faceoff. He held his breath as seconds later, Shawn took a solid check into the boards. His man still managed to snap a crisp pass to Demyan. Jetting across the ice, Demyan whipped the puck over to Vanek.
Vanek dodged the big, brutish Leaf’s defense and skated almost completely past the net. He tucked the puck back to where Shawn had positioned himself on the edge of the blue paint. The Leaf’s goalie stopped the first shot. Demyan cupped the rebound, lifting the puck over the goalie’s pad.
Line Brawl: The Dartmouth Cobras #8 Page 38
