I rush home after work to shower and change into jeans, a cami, and my jersey. My stomach is a bundle of nerves, and I dumbly wonder if Noah has pregame jitters. Though, it is the first game of the season, so maybe he does. This is my first time seeing him play as a pro. Why am I so nervous? I may speed a little on my way to the arena and I rush to my seat.
I’m a little late, but they’re still in warmups. There seems to be a decent crowd here so far, but empty seats are easy to spot. I’ll have to ask Noah about the hockey fanbase here. Noah and Marc, I notice, aren’t wearing their helmets, their hair flying in the wind as they skate around, laughing. I’m surprised when Marc notices me first from my seat behind the goalie’s net. I know this because a puck hits the glass right in front of me, making me and the fans on either side of me jump, but there Marc is grinning like a goofball.
My glare isn’t enough, so I quickly flip him off. He winks and skates over. Marc removes his glove and crooks his finger for me to move my face closer to the glass. He acts as if he’s kissing my cheek and I roll my eyes. He doesn’t see Noah come up behind him to give him a shove. The grin on Noah’s face is all for me. I turn in a circle so he can see me in his jersey.
“I love you,” he says.
I grin. “Love you too. Now, go play.”
Warmups are officially over so he skates away and off the ice. The girls on either side of me seem to be dumbstruck for about two minutes before they ask me if I’m dating the Noah Ramsey. The smile can’t be wiped off my face as I answer with a simple yes.
Puck drops before I know it. Noah is way faster than I remember. I love watching him rush from one end of the ice to the other. Hearing the sounds of him ramming someone into the boards or vice versa? Not so fun to watch. I loved watching Vance play because you could see the strength in his body, but that’s nothing compared to watching Noah. I’m starting to think his nickname of Rams has more to do with his play than his last name.
Is it odd to say it’s a turn-on? Who cares at this point?
The crowd is loud and roaring every chance they get when the Rebels are up one to nothing, but things quieten drastically when the opposing team ties it up. Some, myself included, still cheer, but it’s when prompted by the screens above us. Then, I don’t know what happens, but there seems to be a shift in momentum and the crowd picks up on it. A nearly deafening “Let’s go Rebels” chant followed by two claps and three fast ones break out.
Following the game would be a little easier if I knew the players better than I do. Right now, I only know Noah is number twenty-four and Marc is nineteen. It doesn’t help that my eyes are on Noah every time he jumps onto the ice.
The puck lands on his stick and he doesn’t hesitate to shoot. There’s two minutes left in regulation. I hold my breath until the horn sounds, sending the crowd to their feet. My voice goes hoarse from screaming and cheering.
I was never a hockey fan until I met Noah. When we broke up, I didn’t watch any games. I only bought and wore a few of his jerseys every now and then. I tried watching a game once, one of the teams Noah wasn’t associated with. For a long time, I thought it was odd that I felt nothing watching the game, that it didn’t excite me like it once did. But now, I realize why.
Noah wasn’t playing.
Sure, I like hockey, but the reason I loved it was because I loved watching Noah play and be in his element. After tonight, I know I’ll be here for as many games as I can make it to. I want to support him and fall back in love with the game.
Before I head home, I send a quick text to him.
Me: Good job getting the game-winning goal! I’ll be ready to celebrate when you get home.
As soon as I hit send, my phone lights up with an incoming call. My lungs freeze and my hands begin to tremble as I recognize Vance’s number.
COMING HOME TO my apartment has become my new favorite thing because the love of my life is in there waiting for me. It’s the most exciting part of my day, even after the fun and excitement of the first game of the season. I want to celebrate with Mere since the team will be leaving tomorrow afternoon for an away game Saturday.
My keys clink as I stick the correct one into the deadbolt and turn it before moving on to the doorknob. Darkness greets me. Maybe she’s in our room, still wearing my jersey. I close and lock the door, set my keys on the end table by the couch, and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. I’m already hard with anticipation of what may be waiting for me on the other side of the closed door.
It creaks as I push it open. She’s curled in a ball on top of the covers with Leo cuddled to her chest. She’s still wearing my jersey, but sex is pushed down a notch on my to-do list when she sniffles and glances over at me. What the fuck happened between when she texted me and now?
I toe out of my shoes and climb on behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “What’s wrong?” I whisper.
“Sorry, Noah. I was hoping I’d be over it by now.” She rolls to face me, Leo settling in and falling right back to sleep.
“Over what?” Damn, I’m tired of seeing those green eyes watery to the point that tears are falling down her face.
“One of my stupid old friends gave Vance my new cell number, so he called me. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want him back in my life in any way. Why can’t he just take the hint and leave me the hell alone?”
“So answer the phone and tell him off,” I suggest, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t want to talk to him, Noah,” she stresses again.
I’m at a loss. If he wants to get up with her that badly for whatever fucking reason, he’s going to keep calling. “Did he leave a voicemail?”
She nods, another tear falling. “I don’t need to call him back. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Then don’t.”
I run my fingers down her arm as my thoughts deviate from the topic of conversation to the feel of the coarse cloth of the jersey.
“Sorry for ruining the celebration,” Meredith says. “I fell back in love with hockey tonight. You were great out there.”
A shit-eating grin appears. “You’re just saying that because you love me, so how amazing I am is amplified.”
She laughs. “You sound like Marc.”
I slip my hand underneath the jersey, disappointed when I feel another shirt, but I don’t let it stop me from tickling her side. Her knees pull in and Leo, annoyed that he can’t sleep in peace, crawls up our pillows and around to behind my back. She’s giggling as she tries to push my hand away.
“You can’t tell me in our bed that I sound like my teammate.”
“Sorry!” she squeals.
I stop tickling her, but some of her laughter persists.
“I love you,” she says in this airy, breathy voice with a dreamy like smile. Her mind isn’t on her troubles anymore.
“I,” kiss, “love,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “too.” My hand roams further up her chest.
“Can we talk about something before you stop thinking like a normal human being and strip us naked?” she asks as I push her on her back and start unbuttoning her jeans.
“What?” I don’t pause with what I’m doing.
“What’s your schedule like next week?”
Now, I do pause because I have to think about my days and dates. “I leave next Friday for two weeks. They send us out on a bunch of road games because of the state fair.”
“For two weeks?”
Something in her tone causes me to look up at her. It almost reminds me of my nervousness over her leaving. Is it possible that she has some sort of fear when I leave? I crawl up her body, resting my elbows on either side of her face and place my forehead against hers. “Yeah, and I’m going to miss the hell out of you. Leo will be here to keep you company, but I’ll be calling, videochatting, and texting.”
“Promise?”
“Promise to contact you as much as I did when you went to Pittsburgh.”
She laughs. “That’ll work.”
Leo, the ba
stard, has come around to try crawling between us, wiggling his little body with a purpose. The first hand he finds, he starts nudging it with his nose.
“He probably needs to go out and you’re still dressed,” Mere says in a sweet voice.
I warily eye them both. Technically, this is her dog. He is kinda cute, and if someone has to leave this bed and walk him, I’d rather it be me than her. “Be naked when I get back,” I order her.
She grins. “Was already planning on it.”
I walk into the living room in my suit with my duffel bag hanging off my shoulder. Marc is handing Meredith’s phone back to her. I wonder what he’s doing with it to start with, but I don’t ask. Mere throws her arms around me the second I’m close enough.
“You look hot,” she whispers. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“I’m feeling left out over here,” Marc adds, causing us to laugh.
“I’ll miss you too,” Meredith assures him as she lets me go and turns to him. “I’ll fix you guys dinner when you come back.”
“You don’t need to do that, Mere. We’ll be busy doing other things Marc doesn’t need to be here for.” This is a short trip, only for one game, and we’ll need to prepare for when I’m gone for that two weeks. Marc can go home and have fun with his hand.
Meredith ignores me. “Anything you don’t like?” she asks him.
“I’m not picky. Thanks, Mere.”
We both lose our smiles at that.
“Uh, Meredith,” he corrects with a roll of his eyes. “You ready, Rams?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you down there.” I pull Meredith against me, already ignoring him. How is this my life? With Meredith back, living with me, giving me someone to kiss goodbye and come home to. I’m mesmerized by her smile and the spark in her eyes once again.
Marc has to go and ruin my moment by speaking. “What if I want to say goodbye to her too?”
“Then say it and get out.”
“Bye, Meredith,” he says, and I’d bet he has a stupid grin on his face.
“Bye, Marc,” she replies without looking away from me. Her fingers are digging into my waist, and I wish we had time for a quickie. As soon as she hears the soft click of the door closing, she lifts onto her toes and presses a kiss to my mouth. Her tongue sweeps into my mouth immediately. I’ve always known I was meant to kiss Meredith for the rest of my life.
But this feels like a goodbye kiss, full of desperation and a hint of sadness, and we are not saying goodbye.
“I’m coming back,” I mumble against her lips.
“I know.” She gives me another kiss. “Go on and leave, so you can come back.” Before you leave me again. Those are her unspoken words.
Yeah, I definitely think I’m not the only one with issues regarding one of us leaving.
“I love you,” I remind her.
“I love you, too.” She smiles.
“I’ll let you know when we land.”
She nods, so I give her one last kiss before leaving. When I climb into Marc’s truck, he seems uncomfortable. The same look that was on his face when I saw him handing her phone back and he knew I caught it.
“So,” he starts. “I feel like I should tell you something.”
I tense, but say, “You mean what you and Meredith were doing before I came out of the bedroom.”
“Yeah.”
When he doesn’t add more, I drawl, “Well?”
“Someone called her phone. She panicked, shoved it at me, and told me to answer. Say that they had the wrong number. I did it for her.”
“Oh.” Part of me wants to say this is good. Vance won’t be calling and putting tears in her eyes without even speaking to her. Part of me says this is bad. I can’t even believe I’m thinking it, but maybe she needs to talk to him. Not talking hasn’t helped her so far. Don’t get me wrong. I would like to get that prick out of her mind once and for all, but he’s connected to whatever she’s hiding from me and her family, and I don’t want her to keep secrets.
“I don’t feel right about it,” Marc says, dragging me out of my thoughts. “The guy sounded like he really needed to talk to her. He was almost desperate-like.”
“It’s her ex,” I tell him. “She’s bound and determined not to speak to him.”
“Do you think that’s the right call?”
“Wish I knew.”
Being on the road isn’t so bad. I talked to Meredith as often as I told her I would. We are one and one so far this season, having lost yesterday’s game. It was a tough loss. There are times when you mostly do everything you can, play the best you can, and make almost all the right plays, but a few bad calls, bad passes, and bad decisions add up. They end up being crucial in a close game. That’s how we lost.
There were long periods of time where no one scored, at least they seemed long. Then, there would be a flurry where either we scored or the other team would score and within two minutes the opposite team would tally a goal.
The true sign of us not doing as well as expected was the expression on Coach Mike’s face. Those bushy eyebrows of his were nearly one, they were pinched so close together. His pale thin lips were flattened, and he wasn’t happy with our performance. Even now, I can hear him highlighting what we did right, immediately following it what we did wrong and how we can improve for the next game, and then wrapping up his speech with, “There’s a reason a season is comprised of a series of games instead of only a handful. Let’s regroup and be better next time.”
I plan to regroup with Meredith as soon as I can get rid of Marc. We’re on our way back to my apartment now.
“Do you think she really cooked us dinner?”
“Probably. She hasn’t responded to my texts.” This is the first time she’s cooked for me. I wonder if she’s a good cook. Hope so, since I know we’re both hungry.
“Gotta say, I like you having a nice girlfriend.”
“What? None of my other girlfriends were nice?” I ask with confusion.
“Not to me. Why wasn’t that a deal-breaker, by the way? Shouldn’t the girlfriend being not nice to the best friend be a deal-breaker?”
I laugh. “Don’t think so. Hell, Meredith wouldn’t even care if my parents liked her or not as long as we were happy.” Well, the old Meredith didn’t care. This one does a little bit. Marc parks and we get out to walk toward the elevator.
“Well, I’m just glad she likes me. You wouldn’t mind sharing her, would you? We both could totally date her. I could get used to not having to cook for myself.”
I throw my empty water bottle at him, hitting him in the head. That should be answer enough.
“I was kidding!” he laughs, rubbing his head as I press the button for my floor.
“Sometimes, you joke too fucking much, Marco. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Anyone ever tell you that laughter is the best medicine?”
“I didn’t laugh,” I point out.
He grins. “No, but I did.”
That actually does make me laugh. The doors open to my floor and seconds later, we’re walking into my apartment. It smells so fucking good in here.
“Mere,” I call out when I don’t see her, only Leo who is running toward me. I pick up the little dog and rub his head.
“Hey,” she grins when she comes from the hallway.
“What’d you cook?” Marc asks.
“Something good,” she answers. Meredith gives me a quick kiss. “Hey.”
“You already said that.”
“You haven’t said it back.”
“Hey.”
“That’s better. Hungry?” She glances between Marc and me.
“Starving,” Marc answers, already walking to the kitchen. “I knew I smelled pasta,” I hear him say.
Meredith follows Marc, and so do I once I set Leo on the floor. We all comfortably move around my kitchen, washing our hands, fixing drinks, and loading our bowls full of the pasta she made. We’re just about to sit down
when there’s a knock on my door. We all freeze.
“You two go ahead and start eating. I’ll get it,” Meredith says. She’s walking to the door before I can stop her.
I hear an oomph and then, “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” That makes me stand and I hesitantly call out, “Dad?” Sure enough, my parents are standing in the doorway. Dad is hugging the daylights out of Meredith while Mom looks less than thrilled. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We talked to Hope and Harold, found out from them that you two are back together, and I took that as the cue to come see it for myself!” Dad answers. “We’ve missed you a lot,” he tells her. “I wanted to catch up in person.”
I wasn’t lying when I said my dad loved Meredith. If he could adopt her, he would. He’s the one who told me I needed to go to one of Ashley’s games to watch “this girl who is phenomenal.” I don’t think I ever told her that, come to think of it. He noticed how good she was and told me I needed to see how she played. Meredith was intense and aggressive when she played. I fell in love with her the second I saw her smile to herself after winning a match.
Dad leads Meredith toward the living room, but when he sees Marc, he moves them into the kitchen instead.
“Not happy?” I quietly ask my mom.
“Simply cautious and wary.”
“Couldn’t have given us a heads-up?” I ask as we hug.
“You know your father.”
Yeah. He loves surprises. This isn’t the first time he’s driven down without a warning. I don’t mind because his timing is almost always good.
“Well, we might as well join them. Meredith cooked dinner and there’s plenty to go around.”
“Oh, look at this little guy!” Dad exclaims when he sees Leo.
“He was named Boomer, but I changed it to Leo,” Meredith tells him.
Mom and I sit at the table since Dad already fixed her a bowl.
“Hey, Carol,” Marc says to her.
She tells him hello and I swear she blushes. If my mom was younger and wasn’t married to my dad, she’d probably want to date Marc. Apparently, she likes what she sees with his blond hair and blue eyes. I internally vomit.
Back to Me Page 11
