Making a Play

by Victoria Denault

  I love Rose Caplan.

  “I need your help,” she declares, obviously oblivious to the huge revelation that is currently making my heart feel like it’s bungee jumping behind my rib cage.

  “I’d do anything for you.” My voice is gentle, warm and sincere and it makes her curious eyes find mine. A tiny blush starts to speckle her cheeks because she’s absorbing the deeper meaning of that statement.

  But she doesn’t change course. She keeps talking like she has no clue I’m on the verge of telling her I’m in love with her. “I need you to take the stuff over to the banquet hall. I’ll have Jessie pick me up here and then I’ll go over later and set everything up.”

  “Why don’t you just go with me and we can do it together?”

  Her dark eyes lose a bit of their light. “People will be arriving all day for your event. Reporters, agents, players. We’re not together, remember?”

  Oh. Right. This sucks way more than I thought it would when I suggested it.

  She leans in to hug me. “I’m sweaty and gross,” I warn.

  “You’re sweaty and sexy,” she argues back and kisses my earlobe, tugging it between her teeth for a second—just long enough to make my dick twitch. I nuzzle my head into her shoulder, turning it so my face is pressed into her hair and the side of her neck. I inhale deeply. She smells like coconut and fresh-cut grass. Her lips press against my collarbone lightly.

  “I was going to go for a swim,” she whispers against my skin. “Want to join me?”

  “Sure.” She steps back from me and starts toward the French doors that lead to the back deck.

  “The current looks a little rough,” she says and I glance past her to the gently lapping waves hitting my dock. There is nothing rough about the water today. When I look back at her she’s grinning, her dark eyes mischievous. “This bathing suit is very fragile. I wouldn’t be surprised if I lose it in the rough water.”

  She walks onto the deck and down toward the dock. I stand up and take my keys and cell phone out of my shorts before moving to join her. As I step out onto the deck, she’s already diving off the dock into the water.

  No matter what happens with my team and no matter how many more shitty articles are written about me, nothing will change the fact that right now, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

  Chapter 32

  Rose

  He looks fantastic up there, in his tailored blue suit with his crisp white shirt and his light and dark blue checkered tie and light blue pocket square. His hair is tastefully gelled back and he smiles at everyone like he’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial as he gets ready to announce the winners of the auction.

  The night, from what I could tell, had gone amazingly. We’d already raised three grand from the gift bags and gift certificates donated by local businesses. We’d also sold out the entire arena, which was another four thousand, and the five-dollar skate before the game tomorrow was more than three-quarters sold. People tonight, whether they won auction prizes or not, were genuinely having a great time.

  I heard them raving about the food when I walked by. I saw them laughing and smiling. I watched them squeal or murmur with delight after they got to casually chat with their favorite hockey players or hockey legends, since they were all here too.

  I wish I was having a good time too. I’m not. I can’t stop staring at him, no matter what I do, and watching him hurts because I don’t want to be a spectator. I want to be living this with him. Jessie walks over and stands beside me, placing a soothing hand on my lower back.

  “Want a good laugh? Look at that.” She nods her head in the direction of the windows. I glance over and see Jordan and two girls, probably around sixteen, both talking to him at the same time. They couldn’t look more star struck if a cartoonist painted hearts on their eyeballs.

  “Adorable,” I say and let out a soundless little laugh.

  “Fangirls are the best,” she says with an envious sigh. “I wish they were all fangirls.”

  She moves her hands from my back and points to Devin, who is in the opposite corner of the room from Jordan, his back pressed up against the wall as a woman in her midtwenties, wearing a painted-on strapless dress and heels so high I don’t know how she hasn’t broken an ankle, leans into him and tries to whisper something in his ear. “Sadly, they’re not all that innocent.”

  My eyes start to look for Ashleigh but then I remember she didn’t come. She is home with Conner, who had a stomach bug.

  “Should we save him somehow?” I want to know, but Jessie shakes her head.

  “They spend half the season on the road. They know how to save themselves,” she replies and then she pauses. “If they don’t, you’re in trouble.”

  I keep watching and after a few more polite nods Devin places a firm but gentle hand on the woman’s forearm and gives it a soft pat before saying something that has her eyes soften, and she nods as he slips away from her. Jessie grins in approval. “See? Devin’s a good boy, just like Jordy.”

  We turn back to her fiancé, who is now in the middle of taking a very awkward selfie with these two teenagers. He’s giving a thumbs-up sign with one hand and trying to angle the camera with the other, while they hang off his shoulders. When he’s done, he hands the girl back her phone and they scurry off giggling.

  “I hope Luc’s a good boy,” I murmur as the music fades away and Luc’s voice fills the room.

  Everyone turns and stares as he walks across the stage, holding a piece of paper. He thanks everyone for coming and thanks the venue. Earlier, in his remarks to kick off the night, he also played a video that Dr. Duncan gave him that explained Hope House and what it does. Now, he pauses before reading the auction winners.

  “I really can’t tell you all how much I appreciate your being here and donating to a cause that really means so much to me. My mother wasn’t able to be there for me the way that I needed as a kid. Luckily, I had Donna and Wyatt Garrison to provide what I needed, including three guys to beat on the rink.”

  Everyone laughs at that. I scan the crowd and see his agent, Paul, at the back of the room next to Jordan and Devin’s agent. Luc clears his throat and continues. “The Garrisons really did provide their own little Hope House for me and for my good friends Jessie, Callie and Rose Caplan, who had their own parental challenges. But not every kid facing our problems is lucky enough to have a Wyatt and Donna Garrison. Dr. Keith Duncan is trying to give those other kids what I was lucky enough to find—hope.”

  Everyone claps. As he waits for the clapping to stop, his eyes move over the crowd and land on me. He smiles, sweetly but briefly, and addresses the crowd again. “Hockey is a team sport and so was putting on this charity event, so I want to take a moment to thank Jordan, Devin and Cole Garrison, Jessie Caplan, all the businesses that donated auction items, my teammates Brent Voakes and Dan Watson, as well as all the other players and alumni who came all this way.”

  Brent and Dan, whom I haven’t officially met yet, clap for themselves over by the bar. Luc chuckles. “And most important, my assistant captain on this project and the very smart, very kind woman who told me about Hope House. My dear friend Rose Caplan.”

  Everyone claps. Jessie gives my arm a squeeze. I nod awkwardly and stare at the parquet floor. His dear friend. Friend. Ouch. Rationally, I know that if he talked about me in public—especially something this public—it would be with the dreaded six-letter word “friend,” but now that he has… it’s much more painful than I’d anticipated.

  It fucking sucks.

  He lets the clapping fade away and then he announces the winners of the items, including who will coach the teams for the hockey game tomorrow. The winners were the owner of the local diner, a businessman from Portland and some woman from Kennebunkport whose husband bought it for her as a gift.

  That is the end of the official festivities for tonight. Although a lot of guests begin to filter out, some people still linger to have a final drink or two and some linger to stare at the pro
fessional athletes. The DJ is still playing music and some people, mostly women, are still dancing.

  I am exhausted and, if I am honest with myself, a bit depressed. This morning had started with that heart-to-heart in Luc’s kitchen where I could have sworn he was on the verge of saying he loved me. Now, as I watch him stride across the room and stop to chat with the two teenage girls and their father, he catches my eye and nods slightly before turning back to his admirers, and I can’t help but wonder if I imagined this morning.

  He’s so… distant. I know I agreed to this, and I didn’t like the way it felt at the beginning, but then we’d kind of cocooned ourselves away in his house or mine, where we could touch and laugh and he could look at me like he cared about me. Being back in this charade full-time stung.

  I turn to Jessie and give her a weak smile. “I’m exhausted. It’s been a huge day. I’m going to head home, okay?”

  She nods and gives me a hug. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No. I’m honestly just going to crash.”

  She hugs me again, a little more tightly this time, and says, “Only one more day to get through and then he’s all yours again.”

  As I walk away, making my way through the room to the exit, I realize she’s right. Just one more day… and then what? When I come back from Europe he’ll already be gone—to his new team or his old one. Will he invite me to visit? Will we be able to openly be together then? Are we even staying together after the summer?

  As I exit the banquet hall into the main lobby of the golf club, it hits me that we haven’t talked about the future at all. Am I silly for assuming I’d be in it? My gait falters as I realize this for the first time, like an idiot, and my high heel snags on the carpet. I start to tumble forward. A set of strong arms clothed in a black suit reach out and wrap around my waist, steadying me. I turn around, smoothing my hair back and come eye to eye with one of the Las Vegas Vipers players who came for the event.

  “You okay, sweetheart?” He’s got a heavy New York accent, deep-set blue eyes and short, neat, dark blond hair. I know the two Vipers who came to the event were Brent and Dan but I don’t know which one is which. Even though I watched all of Luc’s games that I could over the years, I can’t tell them apart off the ice without numbers on their backs.

  “Yes. Thanks.” I nod, a little embarrassed. “I was just on my way out.”

  “Don’t leave just yet,” he counters with a smooth smile that, combined with his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw, I’m sure gets a lot of women to do whatever he wants. “Let me buy you a drink first.”

  “Thanks, but I…”

  “Brent. This one is not going to fall for your sad excuse for charm.” Luc’s heavy voice fills the air around us and I feel a spark of happiness. “She grew up surrounded by hockey players with more game on and off the ice than you. She knows better.”

  Brent laughs as Luc slips around from behind me to join the conversation. His hand rests on my lower back for just a second, long enough to leave a touch of heat that slips lower and pools in my abdomen. It’s been less than twenty-four hours but, damn, have I missed his touch.

  “So who is this savvy lady?” Brent wants to know.

  Luc turns to me and then to Brent. “Brent Voakes, this is Rose Caplan.”

  He extends his hand and I shake it, but he holds on a little longer than necessary and I glance at Luc to see if he has a reaction. He doesn’t seem to notice. Brent’s still smiling at me when I look back. “Ah! Rose Caplan. The real reason this event is so perfect.”

  He says that like he knows the truth about me. I wonder if Luc confided in his teammates. Maybe he’s slowly letting people know. “Well, it was all Luc’s idea. I just helped him implement it.”

  “Well, you have to let me buy you a drink now,” Brent replies and winks. “Any girl as beautiful as you who willingly wasted her time helping this guy out when she could have been doing anything else with someone much better looking than this goon deserves a drink.”

  Okay, maybe Luc didn’t tell him, because he’s definitely still flirting with me. I glance at Luc again and he’s shaking his head ruefully at Brent’s dig, smiling lightly like it’s no big deal. I give him a sideways glare that says, IT’S A BIG DEAL, but again he doesn’t notice it. Brent reaches for my hand and takes me to the bar. Luc lets him.

  “I’m not trying to be rude, I’m really not, but I have to go,” I say when we’re halfway there. “I’m helping out at the event tomorrow too and I need to get some rest.”

  He looks disappointed and then he studies me for a minute, and it’s like a lightbulb goes on. “You have a boyfriend, don’t you?”

  “Sort of,” I mutter.

  He smirks now. “Sort of? Well, that sounds like a challenge and I love challenges.”

  Oh God, this sucks so bad. “It was nice meeting you. See you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, you will,” he assures me as I walk away.

  I hate every second of that. I glare at Luc, without stopping, and storm back out of the banquet hall. In the lobby again, I tuck myself into a corner, near a set of restroom doors, to dig the keys to Jessie’s car out of my purse. I don’t want to stop in plain sight where someone else will start talking to me, or hitting on me, and delay my escape further.

  I find the key ring and as I look up and take a step forward, a blur of blue pushes into me, moving me deeper into the narrow hallway and through a restroom doorway. The men’s room. Luc lets go of me, turns to throw the latch on the door and then stalks back over to me, grabbing my arms and pulling me into him as he presses a kiss to my lips, his tongue moving eagerly into my mouth. My body shudders in relief at having him to myself again and my hands slide under his open suit jacket, gripping his sides.

  He gently pushes me back into the tiny room until my ass bumps the sink. His right hand slides down my hip to my thigh and his fingertips dance over my skin there before hooking the back of my knee and lifting it to his waist.

  “Did you see the big bald guy my agent Paul came with?” he whispers against my mouth and I nod. “That’s Maurice, the general manager of the Vipers. And he’s impressed. Told me to my face.”

  I nod again as he leans into me so our bodies are pressed up against each other, touching everywhere. I know I shouldn’t, but I nuzzle my head into his shoulder, turning it so my face is pressed into his hair and the side of her neck. I inhale deeply. He smells so fucking good. His lips press against my collarbone lightly.

  “We should go back out there.” I hate myself for thinking it, never mind saying it. “Someone might come in.”

  “It’s a staff restroom.” He moves his hand up, catching my hair and pushing it off my shoulder, allowing his lips access to the soft, sensitive skin on the side of my neck. He kisses me there and I sigh. My breath hitches and before I can regain my senses and talk myself out of what we’re about to do, he turns his head and kisses me again.

  “I miss you,” he confess as the kiss breaks and he moves that talented mouth to my neck again. “I want you.”

  I push his suit jacket off his shoulders and it lands on the floor next to the urinal along with any words I still want to speak.

  Chapter 33

  Luc

  My hands roam higher, pulling down the straps to her dress, pushing aside the cup of her bra and bending my head to her perky, beautiful breasts. She lets a breathy moan escape her open mouth and her eyes flutter closed. I’ve lost the ability to think. All I can do is feel—the taut skin of her nipple against my tongue, the soft curve of her hips under my fingertips, the hot tickle of her breath on my neck. I can’t stop myself. I swear to God, I will die if I stop.

  I want to take my time, worship her, savor the feel of her softness, wetness and heat, but she’s right. Someone could be looking for me. Someone could find us. I have to have her. I need to show her how much I miss her and want her and need her but I need to be quick. I press another kiss to her mouth, this one wild and hot. My hands push up the bottom of her d
ress and my fingers slip into the waistband of her thong and slide inside her. My brain shuts off completely at the slippery feeling of how ready she is—how much she wants me—and I start feverishly tugging her underwear down her legs. When they’re at her ankles I use one hand to turn her around and the other to unzip my fly.

  “Spread, Fleur,” I whisper hoarsely and she does. I push her dress up and ball it up in my hand on her lower back and press down gently, causing her to arch and opening her up to me. I lean forward and nuzzle her neck, as her hands grab hold of the countertop and I grip her shoulder and push into her. She pushes back into me until our bodies are completely joined. I start to move, thrusting hard and fast, chasing release. She pushes back with every thrust, tilting her hips, so every push has me as deep as I can go. My balls are tingling instantly.

  “Rose,” I groan heavily. “Come with me. I’m so close. Please.”

  I bend forward and snake a hand around her waist, my fingers slide low, through her folds. My thumb rolls over her clit and her back arches deeper as her dainty fingers grip the sink so tightly they turn white.

  Then I feel it… her body tightening around mine. I wrap my free hand in her hair and gently tug her head up because I want to see her face in the mirror when she comes—and when I come. But she doesn’t look euphoric or blissful like I’ve seen the million other times I’ve made her come. She looks…

  My body doesn’t give my brain time to analyze. It claims release and I let out a gasping grunt and a shudder as I come.

  And now I’m drunk with happiness and aching with satisfaction and all I can think about is how beautiful she is and how perfect that was. My body has collapsed on hers again and I wrap an arm around her middle, holding on to her, keeping myself inside her as I soften.

  “Rosie… what the fuck are you doing to me?” I murmur, my cheek resting against her shoulder.

  “What are you doing to me?” she counters but her voice isn’t soft or sweet. It’s ripe with tension and tinged with anger.