Knox: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

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Knox: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 7

by Brenda Rothert


  “How is everything this evening?” he asks us.

  “It’s great,” I say as Reese buries her face in her hands.

  As soon as he’s out of earshot, I manage to wipe the grin off my face and say, “Stop assuming I’m trying to get you in bed. I’ve never done that. In Kauai, it was your idea.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and you didn’t put up much resistance.”

  “Nor would I if it happened again. But it won’t, unless you initiate it.”

  “I just don’t want the complications of a relationship, or even a friends-with-benefits arrangement.”

  “I’m only saying friends. No bennies.”

  “Promise?” Her tone is pleading.

  “Reese. I’ve never in my life pressured a woman to have sex with me.”

  She shakes her head and laughs. “I’m sure you don’t have to. You just take off your shirt and give them that brooding look and suddenly their panties are on the ground.”

  Now I’m the one laughing. “I don’t have a brooding look.”

  Reese lets out a loud belly laugh. “Are you kidding me? You have resting broody-man face.”

  I ignore her. “So you’ll come to the cookout with me?”

  She stalls by sipping her water, and then says, “Okay.”

  “Good.”

  “But you drop me off at my door after and don’t come inside.”

  I feign a look of innocence. “I promise not to come inside.”

  Her lips part and a light flush rises in her cheeks. “Wait, you promise not to come inside, or…come inside?”

  I shake my head. “Here I am just trying to have a wholesome friendship with you and you’re making it dirty.”

  She sighs, looking both aggravated and amused. “Just friends.”

  “Just friends,” I agree.

  For now.

  Chapter Ten

  Knox

  I still can’t shake my habit of staring at Reese. As she laughs with Mia and Lindy while they share a bottle of wine, I enjoy studying all her facial expressions and mannerisms.

  She likes to play with the piece of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail. She savors each sip of wine for a bit before swallowing it. And she’s laughing with my teammates’ wives like she’s known them for years.

  “I like her,” Luca says, stopping to stand next to me in the backyard.

  I lower my brows and look over at him with a perplexed expression. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Why are you saying it like that? You look like someone just farted right next to you.”

  I scowl. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

  He shrugs. “I own my farts; I’d admit it if I did it.”

  “Am I a decent looking guy?” I ask him.

  Now he’s the one with the lowered brows. “Yeah? I mean, I guess, in a caveman chic kind of way. Why are you asking?”

  “Caveman chic…” I mutter. “Nice, asshole.”

  “Did you just ask me if I think you’re attractive and tell me I have a nice asshole?”

  I crack a smile. “You wish.”

  He reaches into the cooler beside us and grabs two beers, passing me one. I pop my cap off and take a long swig from the bottle.

  “Reese only wants to be friends with me,” I say.

  “Really?”

  “Yup. We met in Kauai a little over a year ago, had incredible sex, but things couldn’t go anywhere because she was on the rebound and we lived too far apart. Now she’s not on the rebound and we live in the same city, and she just wants to be friends.”

  “You sure the sex was good?” Luca quips.

  “Fuck yes, I’m sure.” I shake my head. “I never should have said anything. This is why I don’t talk to people.”

  “Okay, no more lame jokes.” He looks over at the table on the other side of the yard where Reese, Mia and Lindy are laughing about something. “Is she seeing someone else?”

  “No, she says she doesn’t want to date. Right before I met her in Kauai, her fiancé told her at the altar that he’d been cheating on her with two of her bridesmaids.”

  “Holy shit, that had to hurt.”

  I nod silently.

  “What an asshole,” Luca mutters.

  “Yeah. But that was more than a year ago. Is she planning to just never trust men again?”

  “You don’t get to decide how long someone else’s healing takes.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Phil.” I look away, frustrated as hell.

  “Knox, you want to hear the hard truth?”

  I sigh heavily before responding and say, “Yeah.”

  “You’re used to getting what you want. Too used to it. When’s the last time you had your heart broken?”

  I try to think of a time. There has to be something, but…the Sox losing in Game 6 of the World Series a couple years ago is all I can come up with, and I don’t think that’s what Luca means.

  “When someone fucks you over hard,” Luca continues, “Or, hell, when life does…it changes who you are.”

  I consider that. “Do you think Reese can only be happy with someone who’s also been betrayed? So they understand each other?”

  “You mean like me and Abby get each other because of losing people before we met?”

  I nod.

  “No,” Luca says softly. “But I think if you really want to be with her, you need to be patient. And you need to take the time to be sure you do want her, because you’d be an epic asshole if you chased after her and then changed your mind after you caught her.”

  “I’ve been thinking about her since Kauai. I do really want her.”

  “But for what? Sex? Because there are lots of other women you can have sex with and not hurt because there wouldn’t be any type of commitment there, unlike with Reese.”

  I recoil, offended. “I’d never hurt her.”

  “Words are cheap, man. If you want to convince her, you need to show her.”

  Irritated, I throw my hands in the air. “How can I show her the future?”

  “Bro, you’ve got the patience of a toddler, you know that? You need to show her what kind of man you are.”

  I mull that over for a little bit as we both sip our beers.

  “What kind of man do you think I am?”

  Luca gives me a serious look. “You’re quiet, but always thinking. You like to come off as moody, but really, you’re not. You’re the most loyal person I know.”

  “I figured I was one of those guys who just wouldn’t ever settle down.”

  “What, like a house in the burbs with a bunch of kids? Is that what you’re thinking?” Luca’s tone is shocked.

  I shrug. “When I said ‘settle down’ I meant a committed relationship.”

  “And that’s what you want with Reese?”

  “I think so. I wanted it back in Kauai, but she didn’t even want to keep in touch. And now she’s here and she says she doesn’t want to be with anyone, but…”

  Luca shakes his head. “Everyone says that when they’ve been shit on the way she has. Since she came here with you today, there’s hope. Just be patient.” He throws back the last of his beer and stands up. “I need to go see if Abby needs help with Alex.”

  He heads inside and I look out over Victor and Lindy’s backyard, where several of the players’ kids are playing freeze tag. It makes me smile because I remember that game from my own childhood.

  Once my sister gave my parents grandkids, I figured I was off the hook. But for the first time, I think about having kids and it doesn’t seem like such a crazy idea.

  Maybe I’ll want kids, maybe I won’t. I still don’t know. But I do know I want to be with Reese.

  Silas and Dante come over to shoot the shit, and although I’m listening to them, my eyes are mostly on Reese. I first felt a spark with her because of her looks, but the attraction is about so much more than that. She’s honest and means what she says, and that’s so damn rare these days.

  A couple years ago, I dated a woman named
Beth for a few months, and I brought her to a team cookout. Like Reese, she said she didn’t want anything serious, but she wore a dress and heels and had her hair, nails, and makeup professionally done for the event. Jonah’s late wife, Lily, later told me privately that based on how hard Beth was trying and the things she said to Lily, she could tell she wanted more with me, and that I needed to be careful with her.

  She was right. Beth took me bringing her to the cookout as a sign that things were getting serious, and she started dropping hints about marriage. I ended things immediately.

  Reese, on the other hand, is wearing jean shorts and a T-shirt today, her hair up in a messy ponytail. She’s also spent most of her time her chatting with the other wives than hanging out with me. Once the food starts being served, I go pry her away from Mia and Lindy.

  “I’m having the best time,” she says with a grin. “Thanks for bringing me.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Her eyes stay locked with mine for a few seconds, that same charge of electricity I felt in Kauai passing between us. There’s a tug of war inside me—I want to keep staring at her, I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her. But I also want to respect her decision to be friends.

  “That, right there, what you feel when you look at me, is why you should let me take you on a date,” I say in a low tone only she can hear.

  Reese flushes and looks down. “Think we should get some food?” she asks, glancing here and there and basically, everywhere but at me.

  I made my point, so I let her off the hook. “Yeah, I’m starving. And they’ve got all the stuff to make Chicago dogs, your favorite.”

  “You remembered.” Reese finally meets my gaze again.

  “I haven’t forgotten a single thing from Kauai.”

  She looks flustered, her cheeks staining a sexy pink once again. I force myself to hold back a smirk of victory as I lead the way inside where the food is.

  Victor and Lindy have a huge spread of food set out in their kitchen. Their cookouts always feature stuff you can get at the concessions stands at our home arena, the Carson Center, because they met when Lindy was working there. The food is always damn good, too. I load my plate up with two hot dogs and some nachos, and Reese and I find seats out on the deck at a large patio table with an umbrella.

  “Hey, Knox,” Vic calls out to me from the other side of the deck. “I heard you lost your stick again. Better find it before Friday.”

  I had my hot dog a couple inches from my mouth, ready to sink into the first bite of Chicago dog goodness, but I lower it back to the plate and scowl at Victor.

  “If you motherfuckers took my stick again, I’m gonna kick some ass.”

  I look around the deck at my teammates’ faces. Suddenly, every one of them is completely focused on their food. The shitheads love to prank me by hiding my favorite hockey stick, especially before preseason or exhibition games, which don’t have the same stakes as regular games. But it drives me fucking nuts to not have my stick, wrapped just the way I like it, in any game.

  “Maybe I heard wrong,” Victor says lightly.

  Jonah can’t hide his smug expression on the other side of the table.

  I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to curb my aggravation. “Vic, if you hid my stick, I’m gonna shove your stick up your ass.”

  “Hey, growly,” Reese says from next to me. “Eat. I think you’re firmly in the hangry zone.”

  I turn to her, my face scrunched in disbelief. “Growly? You think I’m growly and broody?”

  There’s laughter around us.

  “You are, man,” Jonah says.

  “The growliest.” Luca nods his agreement.

  Reese nudges me with her shoulder. “Seriously, eat. I get a little growly, too, when I’m hangry.”

  “You?”

  She shrugs. “I mean, it’s nowhere near your level.”

  I can’t help it—I laugh. “If you knew all the shit these guys have done to me over the years, you’d get it.”

  “You’re an easy mark,” Anton says.

  I take a bite of my hot dog, chewing it up and swallowing before saying, “Anyone would be fucking pissed off to find an entire can of shaving cream sprayed into their equipment bag.”

  There are cackles and laughs at that. Even Reese is laughing, which I can’t be annoyed by. But still—that one took me forever to clean up.

  “My cell phone was in there,” I mutter.

  Vic walks over to us, a shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Reese, I was rooming with this beast a lot one season, and I kept a bag of inch-long black hairs that I cut from a wig in my luggage. I’d sneak a few onto his pillow when he was sleeping. He’d wake up and flip out over losing his hair.”

  I don’t even gratify him with a response. I keep eating with my right hand while flipping him off with my left, not even looking in his direction.

  “Do you ever prank them back?” Reese asks me, amused.

  I shake my head. “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

  “Like crossword puzzles?” Victor quips.

  “I’m not ashamed I do crosswords. You would too, if you were smart enough.”

  There are a few ooohs around the table, and Vic laughs and backs off.

  “Reese, better get used to it,” Mia says from across the table. “This is what it’s like to be around all of us. These guys can go from gentlemen to locker-room banter in a hot second.”

  Reese grins at me and says, “I don’t mind. It’s good that someone keeps Knox on his toes.”

  “You’re not so bad at that yourself,” I remind her with a knowing smile.

  This time, she holds my gaze steadily for a few long seconds before going back to her food.

  She knows I’m right. We’re good together. But like Luca said, it may take time to persuade her.

  When I take Reese home that night, I want to come inside like nobody’s business, but I don’t let on. I walk her to her apartment door and give her a hug, then force myself to leave.

  “Call me if you want to hang out again,” I say as I go, fighting my instinct to make plans here and now.

  “Okay. Thanks again,” Reese says, looking slightly confused.

  I guess she was expecting me to try harder to keep our night going. But she had quite a bit of wine, and I’m a man of my word. I said tonight was just friends.

  Next time, though, I’ll choose my words more carefully.

  Chapter Eleven

  Knox

  “Knox…I didn’t know you were coming.”

  My dad’s voice is raspy and faint. He tries to push himself up in his bed, but his arms are too weak and he softly collapses back onto the mattress.

  “It was a last minute thing,” I say, rushing over to help him.

  But as I lean down to support him, he tries to push me away. There’s very little strength behind his effort, but I step back anyway, because he’s my dad. I won’t defy him.

  “I don’t need help,” he insists.

  My heart cracks in half as I watch him struggle to put his upper body weight on one elbow and ease himself up into a more upright position. My mom told me he’s gotten worse, but I wasn’t prepared to see him like this.

  It takes him a while to get settled, and then a little longer to catch his breath again. When he’s ready, I lean down to hug him. He puts his hands on my arms, but he can no longer hug me like he used to. As I gently embrace him, all I feel beneath his clothes is skin and bones.

  “How are you, son?” he asks as I pull away and sit down in the chair beside the hospital bed my mom had put in their den.

  I swallow, forcing down the lump in my throat. I won’t let myself get emotional in front of him. I came here hoping to make him feel a little better, not worse.

  “Pretty good,” I say, putting on a smile. “We beat Anaheim 5–1 last night.”

  “I saw that. The start of it, anyway, on TV. You looked good out there, son.”

  “Thanks.”

/>   My dad has always watched hockey games with an eagle eye. When we talk about games, he usually comments on every great play or bad call that took place, even weeks after the game happened. He doesn’t seem to have the energy to do that anymore, and that wrecks me.

  Not only is my dad physically slipping away from us, he no longer has the mental energy he used to, either. Cancer is a cruel thief, slowly stealing everything that makes my dad who he is. He’s always been a strong, proud man. Needing anyone’s assistance just to sit up has to cut him deep.

  He’s also always been a better listener than a talker. He’s not as reserved as I am, but he’s never been much of a conversation starter. He’s always glad to see me and my sister, though.

  “How long are you staying?” he asks me.

  “Just tonight. I have to fly home tomorrow around ten in the morning.”

  He nods.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  “I’m tired a lot of the time. But your mom and the nurses are taking good care of me.”

  He hasn’t left this room in a while; I’m pretty sure Dad doesn’t have much news to catch me up on. So we’ll have to talk about me.

  “I met this woman,” I say, surprising myself. I wasn’t going to tell him about Reese, but she’s been on my mind so much since the cookout last weekend that it just comes out. “Her name’s Reese.”

  Dad gives me a faint smile. “Like the peanut butter cups.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She must be sweet, then.”

  “She is. But she’s also pretty feisty. And gorgeous…and smart.”

  Dad’s eyes light up as he listens. I keep talking.

  “She was engaged. A little over a year ago, she walked down the aisle and her fiancé fessed up that he’d slept with two of her bridesmaids.”

  Dad’s brow furrows with disbelief as he mutters, “What a dickhead.”

  “Yeah, so now Reese is afraid of being hurt again. She’s built a life for herself without a man in it, and she doesn’t want to risk anything.”

  Leaning back against his pillows, Dads hums his understanding.

  “I don’t know…” I shake my head. “I’m glad she’s happy, but I know she’d be happier if we were together.”

 

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