Resistance on Ice - SR GREY

by Grey, S. R.

  “What now?” I ask as I finish my text and hit Send.

  “You walked down from the arena dressed in your work uniform?” he says tightly.

  Nolan loves and hates my cocktail waitress outfit. He loves that it’s skimpy and sexy and works him all up, but he hates that other men get to see me in it.

  Eliza texts back that she’s fine. Then she asks how I’m doing and if I survived my first stripper-ing experience.

  I text back, I’m good. I lucked out and didn’t have to take off all my clothes.

  No way. How’d you manage that?

  Nolan rescued me, I inform her.

  Wow. You’ll have to fill me in on all the details later.

  I will.

  “Lainey, I asked you a question,” Mr. Impatient cuts in.

  I put my phone away and snap, “I had a jersey on over everything, okay? The one I threw into the crowd.”

  “Yeah, I don’t remember you having that.”

  “I bought it before the game.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, Nolan, I did.”

  He smiles, his expression softening. “I noticed it had my number on it.”

  I smile back. “Of course I’d choose your jersey. Do you really think I’d wear one of your teammates’ numbers?”

  “I’d hope not.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t,” I assure him.

  He releases a breath. “Lainey, I—”

  “Wait,” I interrupt as I realize my brand-new jersey is probably gone, along with all my other discarded clothing. “Crap,” I mutter.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I gesture at my chest, covered only by my bra since his suit jacket is gaping open. It doesn’t matter; Nolan’s seen it all many times.

  “I threw my new jersey out in the crowd. My corset and waitress blouse are gone too.” I sigh. “The casino’s going to be so pissed at me. I’m sure I’ll have to pay to replace the stuff.”

  “Hmm, maybe not.” Nolan glances over to where he and the bouncers were talking earlier.

  Standing, he holds up a finger and says, “Hold on a sec, I’ll be right back.”

  He walks over to a nearby table, and when he returns, I take note of what he’s carrying.

  Happy, I blurt out, “Yay, my clothes!”

  He hands me the small pile of clothing. “One of the bouncers mentioned that Benny and the boys rescued your stuff from the masses. They made him and my other teammates leave, but not before they got your clothes back from them.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Nolan makes a face. “Still, I wouldn’t put any of it on till you’ve washed everything. Who knows what kind of derelicts handled that stuff.”

  I peer down at the blouse, corset, and jersey. When I lift the items up to my nose and take a tentative whiff, I can’t help but make a face. “Yuk. It all smells like beer.”

  “Like I said, just wash everything.”

  Softly, I say, “Hey, look, I’m sorry for putting you in a position where you had to save me. Thank you for doing so, though.”

  I glance over at him, expecting more consternation. But instead of looking aggravated or annoyed, he’s smiling over at me. That’s the thing about Nolan I adore—he can be mad as hell over something, but forgive just as quickly.

  “I’ll always come to your rescue, Lainey,” he tells me.

  “Just like at the movie when I was scared?”

  “Just like.”

  “So you’re my knight in shining armor, eh?”

  “Eh?”

  “What can I say, Nolan? I’m picking up your Canadianisms. You should have seen me earlier. I was even calling my jersey a sweater.”

  Chuckling, he insists, “It is a sweater, Lainey.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  We laugh, and he stands and reaches for my hand. I take it, and he lifts me to my feet.

  Facing each other, our bodies mere inches apart, I straighten his crooked tie and tell him again, “I really am sorry you had to get into a fight over me.”

  “It’s okay.” He tucks a strand of wayward hair behind my ear. “But you never answered my question about why you were even here. Did you come just to make me jealous? If so, I can assure you, it worked.”

  I come clean, since he deserves the truth. “It was meant as a joke. At least, that’s how I sold the idea to Eliza, insisting it’d be funny as hell if we actually got in and crashed your little men-only outing. But like I said before, I had no idea it was damn amateur night.”

  He cocks his head, peering down at me. “You said ‘sold the idea to Eliza.’ What was your real reason, Lainey?”

  I look up into his crystal-blue eyes and bite my lip. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, Nolan.”

  He shakes his head, blows out a breath, and says, “Jesus, Lainey. You’re never going to let me live down that Marty Quick interview, are you?”

  “Would you do it again? Sleep with a bunch of strippers?”

  I feel like I have to know, and waiting for him to reply is tortuous.

  But, at last, he says softly, “No, I wouldn’t.”

  There’s something in his voice, something different from the Nolan he’s shown me so many times, leading me to ask, “Why not?”

  He cradles my face, his warm palm lingering on my cheek. “I think those crazy days are behind me, Lainey.”

  I want more. I want to know if this change of heart is because of me. But we’re supposed to be “just friends,” and friends don’t ask each other these kinds of questions.

  But I have to know, so my eyes search his. Is he looking for a go-ahead from me so we can drop this farce and move forward? I’m ready to, but I need something from him first.

  “Nolan, how do you feel about me?” I tap his chest. “Like in here, deep in your heart, in your soul even. Do you feel me in there? Are we more than just friends? And I don’t mean just the sex part. I know we’ll always have that kind of crazy draw to one another. What I’m asking is if you feel more?”

  He drops his hand, and I feel his walls going up.

  “What do you mean exactly?” he says, hedging already. “You know I care deeply for you, Lainey. Didn’t I just demonstrate as much? Actions speak louder than words, don’t you think?”

  “Sometimes a woman needs the words, Nolan.”

  He blows out a breath. “Lainey, I—I, uh…”

  Say the words, Nolan, just freaking say the goddamn words. Tell me you love me. Because it may have taken me this long to realize it, but I finally know I definitely love you.

  I think all this, but really I’m just as bad as him. I can’t bring myself to pour out my heart anymore than he can.

  I look up at him, and he stares down at me. Is he waiting for the same, for me to say the words first?

  I open my mouth.

  He eyes me expectantly, one brow going up.

  But in the end, I can’t do it.

  I need him to go first. He dumped me back in the spring, and he kept his secret from me for months. Hell, he fucked strippers, for heaven’s sake! I just can’t be the one who capitulates, not this time. I came up with this friends-thing for this exact reason. And it’s not going to end till he cares enough about me to take a chance and put his heart out there.

  “Say it first, Nolan,” I whisper encouragingly, giving him a chance.

  Shaking his head, he holds out his hand and simply says, “Let’s get you home, Lainey.”

  So Much for Follow-Through, Solvenson

  I know what Lainey wants, but I’m not there just yet.

  Will I ever be?

  I don’t know.

  I’d like to think so, but all I know at the moment is my perfectly structured world is upside down. I need to talk to someone. I’d like to ask the person who’s become my best friend, Lainey, for advice. But she’s the reason for all the confusion in the first place.

  I turn instead to the one guy I know can help, at least on this t
opic—Brent.

  “Hey, man.” I catch up with him before he leaves the ice at the end of an early morning practice. “You okay with hanging back a sec? There’s something I want to ask you about.”

  Turning to me and leaning on his stick, he says, “Sure, man. What’s up?”

  After making sure everyone is off the ice and on their way back to the locker room, and therefore well out of earshot, I blow out a breath. “Hey, skate with me for a minute. I can’t stay still right now. I need to be moving to think straight.”

  Brent eyes me curiously. “Sure, but this isn’t like you, Solvenson.”

  We start skating, and I murmur, “Tell me about it.”

  At first, we say nothing at all. I come upon a stray puck left behind from practice and wrist it into a nearby net.

  Finally, I look over and say to Brent, “It’s about Aubrey’s sister.”

  “Ah, Lainey…”

  He doesn’t look remotely surprised, so I flat out ask, “You’ve known all along that’s there’s been something going on between us, haven’t you?”

  “I have,” he confirms. “Not for sure definite, but I started suspecting after your New Year’s Eve party.”

  “What tipped you off?” I laugh. “All the flirting she and I did that night?”

  Chuckling, he says, “Nah. I caught her coming in the next morning.”

  “Ah, now it all makes sense. I bet she was looking well and freshly fucked, eh?”

  “You’re such a smug fucker.” He laughs. “But you could say that, yeah.”

  We’re kidding around, but I’m serious when I ask, “Does Aubrey know?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I’ve never mentioned a word to her about that morning. I figure if Lainey wants to tell her, she will.”

  I nod, agreeing. “That’s always been my thinking on the subject too.”

  “So where do you two stand right now?” His tone suddenly brims with doubt as he says, “Are you really just friends these days?”

  “Believe it or not, Brent, and despite what’s happened in the past, we really are trying the just-friends route, for now.”

  “Wow, so it’s not all an act?”

  “Nope.”

  I guess my frustration on the subject is showing, since Brent next says, “And how’s that working out for you?”

  “Not good,” I admit. “Not good at all.”

  I come across another stray puck, wind my stick up, and slam the vulcanized rubber disk hard as I can down the ice. Brent lets out a low whistle when the puck smacks off the boards and ricochets back to where we’re stopped.

  “Clearly,” he replies.

  I let out a snort. We start skating again, in silence, until Brent quietly asks, “Does Lainey know what went down in your past?”

  “I assume you’re referring to my miserable foray into marriage. And yeah, I told her everything.”

  “Did it spook her? Is that why you two went the friends-route?”

  “No, I’m afraid we were already well on our way down that miserable path when I came clean.”

  “Guess that ensured you stayed on it, eh?”

  “You could say that.”

  Brent glances over at me knowingly. “And now you two are stuck and don’t know how to move forward.”

  I laugh. “I knew coming to you was the right move.”

  “Watch out, Solvenson,” he says, teasing. “I might end up taking over your role as team sensei.”

  I bark out a laugh. “What, captain not good enough for you?”

  He shoots me the bird, and tells me to “fuck off.”

  This is why we’re friends. There’s no bullshit when we talk. We straight-up tell it like it is. And that’s what Brent’s does when he then says, “You want my advice?

  “That’s why I’m talking to you.”

  “Make a move, my friend. One of you has to. But make sure it’s a bold move. If you want Lainey let her know with the kind of action that leaves no doubt.”

  I think about me saving her at the strip joint, and how that wasn’t enough. Not without the words I couldn’t say afterward.

  “What about post-bold move, Brent? What would you do then?”

  He shrugs. “Hard to say, but if Lainey’s anything like Aubrey, you better be ready to talk.”

  “You’re not kidding.” I chuckle, and add, “You really do know these Shelburne women, don’t you?”

  “I guess I do. Aubrey, for sure, but Lainey seems the same. They’re pretty much like all women, man. They want to hear the fucking words.”

  Shit, I’m unsure what Lainey needs me to say, like specifically. I can’t ask Brent for help with that. Only I can figure that one out. Besides, he’s helped me enough today.

  “Hey, thanks for listening to me,” I say. “And thank you for definitely offering some sound advice.”

  “Anytime,” he replies. “And Nolan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Good luck.”

  With Brent’s words of encouragement urging me on, I drive home from the rink with a budding plan. At my house, I change into swim trunks and head down to my pool. I pick up my phone once I’m there and invite Lainey over for a swim.

  Today is the day. I need to make that move, so I’m happy when she accepts.

  After she arrives, there’s some friendly banter between us, and definitely lots of flirting, especially once we’re situated on chaise lounges by the pool and lying under the scorching desert sun.

  But then things falter a little when Lainey starts trying to convince me—unsuccessfully, I might add—that we “must” arrange a nondate double date with Eliza and Benny.

  “It’s a fabulous idea,” she says as she spritzes water all over her smooth, shapely legs.

  I adjust my sunglasses so she can’t see I’m looking at her sexy body, and reply, “Uh, yeah, no. I don’t think so.”

  Hot body, hot sun, steaming hot thoughts—hell, I’m ready to jump in the pool to cool my ass down. Out of those three options, the only safe one to focus on is the sun. So I do that, thinking about how I can’t believe we’re this far into October and it’s still hot as a motherfucker.

  Shit, times like these I miss Toronto like crazy. This time of the year we should be feeling the cool bite of autumn in the air, along with the accompanying icy promise that winter is coming. Don’t even get me started on the leaves. There’s no changing foliage around here. Not that there are all that many trees in the first place. It’s more like cacti-land central.

  Shit, I miss back east so much that I even miss the motherfucking snow. What I really miss, though, are the dynamics of change. Everything is stasis here—sunny every goddamn day. That’s why I can’t wait for our upcoming road games in western Canada. Once we’re up in Vancouver, Calgary, and Winnipeg—the cities we’ll be playing in—I can count on a good dose of how it should be this time of year.

  “Are you even listening to me, Nolan?” I hear Lainey say.

  “Yeah, I am,” I lie.

  Not only do I have no interest in setting up Benny and Eliza, but I’m having a hard time concentrating now that Lainey has turned on her side to talk to me. Her hot pink bikini was tempting enough when she was lying on the lounger normally, but now her full breasts are smooshed together and every curve, flat plain, and valley of her body is facing my way. It’s impossible to think clearly when I want nothing more than to lean over and strip away those small pieces of fabric so I can lick her everywhere.

  Now that would be a bold move, wouldn’t it? For the time being, however, I need to pay attention to this nutty double-date nonsense. Otherwise, Lainey will start something that can’t be stopped. Hell, I saw the way Benny and Eliza were eye-fucking each other at our lunch. They’re one step away from actually fucking.

  Yeah, that’s not happening on my watch. I like Benny far too much to set him up in a no-win situation.

  “No fucking way is that a good idea,” I finally get around to articulating when Lainey reiterates how cute of a couple Benny
and Eliza would make. “You do realize Coach T would probably run Benny over with a Zamboni if those two ever hooked up?”

  Lainey rolls her eyes. “Highly unlikely, Nolan. God forbid he mess with his top line.”

  She has a point. Our top line, which consists of me at right wing, Brent at center, and Benny on the left, has been racking up points like nobody’s business. It’s ideally ideal. And Coach isn’t about to screw with something that’s working, leading me to concede, “Okay, he may not actually inflict bodily harm on Perry, but he could certainly make his life miserable. You wouldn’t want that, now would you? Think of poor Benny.”

  Lainey looks torn. I know she likes Benny. Hell, everyone does. She wouldn’t want him to suffer just because we—really just her—couldn’t resist playing matchmaker.

  Sure enough, and to my great relief, she finally gives in. “All right, Nolan. I guess I see your point.” She sighs. “I’ll nix the idea of the four of us going out next time Eliza brings it up.”

  “You should also discourage her from pursuing Benny on her own,” I say.

  She closes her eyes and scrunches up her face. “Ugh, I hate this. I’m all for seeing people get together, not for plotting ways to keep them apart.”

  Whoa, a loaded statement if I’ve ever heard one.

  My reply is just as loaded. “I know, Lainey, but sometimes keeping people apart is for the best.”

  “You’re such a cynic.”

  “And you know why.”

  We share a look filled with meaning. But quickly—way too quickly—both of us look away. I pick up her tube of sunscreen and pretend to read the back, like it’s the most engrossing literature ever.

  Lainey sighs. “Well, anyway, back to what we were talking about. Don’t worry, I’ll discourage Eliza. I’ll make sure she knows the full extent of Benny’s manwhoring ways.”

  “Be sure to tell her about his puck bunny directory.”

  Lainey gives me a look like I’m making this shit up. Too bad I’m not.

  “Does he really have a PB directory?” Lainey inquires. “And if so, what’s it like?”

  “What do you think it’s like? It’s Benny’s very own personal Yellow Pages for finding pussy.”