Hold Me Forever (A Hockey Romance)

by Layla Hagen

  But boy, oh boy, guess who had a smile the size of Texas right now? Yep, this girl. Because that kiss had been amazing. What was a red-blooded woman to do but swoon just remembering it?

  Chapter Six

  Tyler

  Friday started with a call from Gran while I was drinking my morning coffee. I instantly went on alert because she liked to meet up, but she only called in emergencies.

  “Gran, what’s wrong? I can be at your place in fifteen minutes.” Technically twenty, but I was known for driving over the speed limit when the situation required it.

  “I’m fine, young man. I was calling to double-check that you’re still going to watch the game tonight.”

  I laughed, pressing two fingers to the bridge of my nose. I wasn’t used to having everyone worry about me constantly at the same time.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, don’t call me that. You know I don’t like it, and it makes me feel old.”

  “Yes, Gran.”

  “Hmmm... well, if you change your mind, you can always take this bag of bones out for dinner instead.”

  “Gran! Are you guilting me into taking you to dinner? Last time I asked, you said only people who still have all their teeth should go to a restaurant,” I said, stunned. In August each year, around the anniversary of Grandad’s death, she was always down. I thought going to a restaurant would cheer her up, but instead, I got scolded.

  “No, no. We can do something else.”

  “Gran, I appreciate your concern, but—”

  “It’s a grandmother’s prerogative to worry about her grandchildren.”

  For some reason, that made me feel ten years old.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about this one.”

  “If you say so.”

  I knew that voice. It was her you-know-nothing tone, and it usually meant she had some insider info I didn’t. I waited for her to go on, but she just wished me a good morning.

  After hanging up, I finished my coffee, looking out the window. The view of the busy street energized me.

  I was rinsing out my coffee mug when my phone rang again. This time it was Reese. I immediately answered.

  “Hey, superstar goalie,” she greeted.

  “Right now, I’m the benched and suspended black sheep.”

  “Uh, sorry. I always put my foot in my mouth this early in the morning. Umm... how are you?”

  I laughed. “What did Gran do, put you on my case?”

  “No, we’re doing it of our own initiative.”

  “We? Who else will call me today?”

  She snorted. “I’m not at liberty to say that.”

  “Okay, let’s hear it.” I went into my living room, sitting in the armchair overlooking the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “There’s nothing more to it. I’m just checking on you.”

  “Malcolm isn’t giving you trouble, is he?” Although we’d taught her ex a lesson, you just never knew if the moron would be coming back for more.

  “No, not at all. I’m just... lonely lately. Kimberly is in Paris, and my best friend turned out to be a snake, so...”

  I swallowed hard, shifting to the edge of the armchair. Everyone was focused on me, but they should have been rallying around Reese instead, the way we did right after she canceled the wedding six months ago. She hadn’t gotten over it yet; that was something that took time.

  “You do have all of us,” I pointed out.

  She chuckled. “I know. It’s just... hard.”

  Alarm bells went on. I was going to put Luke on the case. He was the closest to Reese and Kimberly, and he had a knack for these things.

  He always rallied us to get into trouble as kids, but here was the thing: he’d honed the skill of assembling us all together into an art.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said sincerely.

  “Hey, don’t let me get you down. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  I went to shoot Luke a quick message after the call ended,

  Tyler: Hey bro. Can you check on Reese? She seems a bit off.

  Luke: Will do. How about the game?

  I frowned, scrolling back. That’s when I realized I already had a message from him, plus another one from Travis and one from Declan. At least they were more subtle than Gran and Reese.

  I appeased everyone with messages before heading to my physical therapy session.

  The only reason they were concerned was because they knew what hockey meant to me. I wondered how life must be if you didn’t have a huge family, but honestly, I couldn’t imagine it.

  I immediately thought about Kendra. She’d seemed so damn fragile talking about hiding with her sister from social services. She’d had a rough upbringing, and yet she radiated happiness. It was addictive. Every time I was around her, I was more surprised by what I discovered.

  The Chicago Blades’ arena was one of the biggest in the country. It was located close to the Brookfield Zoo, and it was my home away from home.

  I went straight to the stands. I didn't want to go inside the locker room before the boys went out on the ice. We'd start talking again about my ban, and that usually derailed every conversation. I was here to support them, not distract them.

  Five minutes after sitting in the stands, I realized my family was 100 percent right. This was going to be a very awkward experience.

  Excitement coursed through me when each of my teammates was called onto the ice, except when the goalie's name came up and it wasn't mine. Jett McLeod was a rookie, and I was happy he got this opportunity. Still, I couldn't say I didn't wish I was there instead of him.

  I sat back down, happy that the fans were giving me my space. I’d signed some autographs before the game started and promised to take pictures with them afterward. I just asked them to let me watch the game, and they obliged. I loved the fans. Seeing their passion for the game was the best part of being on the bench. It eased the fact that I wasn't on the ice, but only a bit. I was craving to get back out there, defending the net.

  Once all twelve players were on the ice, the game began. Adrenaline pumped through my veins while I watched Jett and the rest of my teammates. Everyone was in top shape, and the game was fucking beautiful. That itch to be back on the ice was stronger than ever.

  Almost three hours later, the Chicago Blades scored their first victory of the season, and I was damn proud.

  All my teammates went to the locker room, and I went down to talk to them.

  "Congratulations, man," I told Jett. “You played an excellent game." I meant every word. Yes, I was pissed that I wasn't out there on the ice, but that didn't mean I wasn't happy for him.

  He nodded. "Thanks, man. That’s a lot coming from you, but I'm sure you'll be back in no time."

  "I'm not so sure about that, but while I'm gone, make sure you kick ass. We have to take the Stanley Cup this year too."

  "I'm on it," he said. His smile was more confident now.

  I turned to my team captain, Steve. "Great job, all of you."

  "Next time, come in the locker room before we go out to play."

  "I didn't want to mess up the team’s concentration."

  He frowned. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Come with us to celebrate?"

  "I have to go back to the stands. I promised the fans I'd sign everything they have for me if they let me watch the game without bothering me. I arrived too late, and I didn’t get to sign too many before the game."

  He looked over my shoulder. "Dude, you're going to be there for an hour."

  I liked signing autographs. Our captain was a tactical genius and an excellent player on the ice, but he wasn't one to smile for the cameras or the fans.

  "I don't mind," I assured him.

  After the team went to the showers, I went back to the stadium seats where I told everyone to meet me.

  "Okay, who's got something for me to sign?" I asked with a wide smile.

  I wasn't doing this to please ma
nagement. I wasn't exactly a people-pleaser. I did it for the fans. I signed a T-shirt, caps, more caps, pictures, a scrap of paper, and then a blonde approached me, rolling her shoulders. I cocked a brow.

  She drew her hand across her chest. "Can you please sign it here?"

  "I don't sign body parts," I said.

  "Oh, come on, please? Just for me? Just this once? No one will know."

  "Everyone will know. The stands are full."

  She smiled, coming closer.

  I shook my head. “Do you have a paper or a cap or something?”

  Her smile faltered. She scoffed, turning around and walking away instead. That worked for me too. That was one thing I didn't like about fans—they could be intrusive.

  Once I finished signing everything, I went outside to my car, texting Steve to ask where they were. There were several bars in the area, and I wasn’t sure where they’d ended up.

  Steve: We’re at the Star Jazz.

  That was only a few blocks away.

  I checked the other messages I had while I revved the engine of my Audi. Both Travis and Declan were asking me to go out for drinks with them. I reassured them all was good and that I was going out with my teammates.

  I also had a message from Kendra.

  Kendra: Hey, congrats. Go Chicago Blades. The game was amazing. How are you doing?

  Even though I’d reassured my family all was well, I told Kendra the truth.

  Tyler: It sucks, but it was the right thing to do. How is your evening?

  She first sent me a peace sign and then a message.

  Kendra: It sucks too.

  Tyler: Why?

  Kendra: I almost got mugged.

  Fuck.

  Tyler: Are you okay?

  She didn't reply, so I called her right away. "Kendra, where are you? Are you okay?"

  “Yes, I’m home now. I’ll take a long shower and eat some comfort food.”

  She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me.

  “Kendra, are you hurt?”

  “No, not at all. It was just a scare. I’ll order pasta alfredo, my favorite comfort food, and relax.”

  Her voice was uneven. I didn’t like that one bit. Kendra was strong and confident, and I had a burning need to make sure she was okay.

  "Where do you live?" I asked, making a split-second decision.

  "Why?"

  "Because I can have a bottle of wine from Maxwell Wineries delivered to your door if you're into that kind of thing."

  "If I'm into that kind of thing? Who isn't? Wine, hello? Yes. But wait, back up. What do you mean, you want to have it delivered to my door? How?"

  "And you said you like pasta alfredo?" I asked without answering her question.

  "That's another hell yes. But seriously, I can order that online. Oh look, I just did.”

  “You can’t order the wine online, though. I can have it delivered to you. I can also deliver it in person.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Why would you do that?”

  “I doubt pasta and wine are enough to make the evening better. You need me in person too. I’m very good at entertaining you.”

  “Okay. I’ll text you the address,” she whispered.

  Her voice set me on edge. I’d expected her to call me out on my cocky comment, but she didn’t.

  I texted Steve that I wasn’t going to make it after all before backing out of the parking lot and heading to the nearest shop that sold Maxwell Wines.

  I needed to make sure Kendra was okay.

  Chapter Seven

  Kendra

  I was restless, even after I took a shower. Honestly, I was more than nervous. I was shaken.

  Dressing in shorts and a tank top, I put my hair up in a ponytail, and tried to get the evening's events out of my mind. My slimy ex-boss, Jared, had answered my email, telling me that if I wanted the paychecks, I should come to the diner and get them myself. So tonight, I did just that, only for him to not be there. The bastard. He did it on purpose. I was sure of that. We hadn’t parted on good terms at all. The last thing he told me before I stormed off was that I’d come back begging for the job.

  As soon as I recovered from tonight’s incident, I’d deal with him. I wasn’t going to let that moron push me around.

  I threw on a robe when the doorbell rang and went to answer it. My pasta alfredo was here. I only ordered one, but the serving size was huge, so it would be enough for Tyler and me. And just like that, I had a big smile on my face. That man sure knew how to distract me and even make me swoon. The night was looking to be a whole lot better already.

  I glanced outside the window at the huge trees on the sidewalk. Most of the time, the view relaxed me, but I was too wound up tonight.

  Five minutes later, my doorbell rang again.

  Looking through the peephole, I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw Tyler. He was unbelievably handsome. I opened the door, smiling widely.

  “Mr. Delivery Guy, you were quick.”

  He leaned against the door with that muscular frame of his, flashing me a cheeky smile. Instantly, I felt my body relax.

  I stared at the bottle of wine he was holding, trying not to look at those perfect biceps or his impossibly strong shoulders. My willpower completely disappeared when I caught him staring at my lips.

  I pointed at him, looking him straight in the eyes, so he knew I meant every word. “We're not bringing up what happened yesterday.”

  That cheeky smile was even more pronounced.

  “Let’s open the wine bottle, Kendra,” he said.

  Okay, so clearly he didn't agree with me, and I didn't insist because I suspected that, far from agreeing with me, he’d make me agree with him. Maybe he’d even kiss me again.

  Hmm... that wouldn’t be so bad.

  Oh Jesus. Who am I kidding? Of course it would be bad.

  Shake yourself out of it, Kendra. Don't be greedy. One smoking-hot kiss was more than enough.

  Leading him to the kitchen, I pointed at the boxes of food and said, “We can eat at the kitchen counter.”

  “Sure.”

  I took out plates, dishing out the food; it smelled delicious. He was looking at me intently, making me conscious of every move I made.

  “Kendra, do you want to talk about tonight?”

  “Honestly, it was just a bit rougher than I expected.” I hoped I sounded convincing.

  He stepped closer. “What are you not telling me?”

  Okay, so I'd been transparent. I turned around slowly, training my eyes somewhere on his chest. I knew if I made eye contact, I wouldn't be able to act as if nothing happened.

  But the next second, he put a hand on my chin, tilting my head slightly up, and his brown eyes looked straight into my soul. “Kendra... what happened?”

  “I had some business to solve at my old workplace. I waitressed at a diner on weekends until last year. Anyway, it’s not in the best part of town. Tonight, after I left the diner, a few guys followed me. I parked a few blocks away. They asked me to give them my wallet and all my belongings.” My voice was shaking. I’d been so scared and operating on adrenaline the whole time. “I broke into a run and went into a store and stayed there for a while. And then I ran to my car.”

  I didn’t want to tell him I’d gone to get my paychecks. For some reason, I felt too proud for him to know I was in financial troubles.

  “Kendra, fuck, why didn't you call someone? Why didn't you call me?”

  “Why would I call you?” I asked, totally bewildered.

  “Because I would have come and picked you up.”

  My insides went completely soft, and it wasn't just because he was stroking my cheek with his thumb. I couldn’t believe he would have come across town to help me.

  I realized I was shivering. He touched my arm with his hand, rubbing my shoulder lightly.

  “Thanks.”

  “Next time you're in a messy situation, call me, Kendra. Tell me, and I'll come get you. No matter when or where it
is.”

  “But why—”

  “Just agree with me, woman.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. “I'll call you. Thanks for the offer.”

  I didn’t remember how it felt to be looked after, protected in this way, treasured. It made me feel important.

  He tilted closer, looking at my lips again, curling his fingers into my sides. Then I realized he was barely restraining himself from coming even closer.

  Clearing my throat, I pointed to the plates. “Let's eat this before it gets cold. It's best warm.”

  “Afraid to be too close to me?” he teased.

  “Hell yes. My body is still burning up from that kiss at the pool. I don’t think I can handle any more heat, Mr. Goalie. I’m particularly susceptible tonight.” My voice was playful, but I kind of meant it.

  “Good to know,” he answered in a low voice but took a step back.

  We headed to my small table, which somehow looked even smaller with Tyler sitting at it. The man was huge.

  “So, your evening sucked too, huh?” I asked.

  “Mine was unpleasant. There's a difference.”

  “Yeah, but I don't want to talk about mine anymore. How about yours?”

  “I probably should have listened to my family and not gone there. Or taken them up on the offer to join me.”

  “They offered that?”

  “Yeah. We’re very supportive of each other. Want me to open the bottle of wine?”

  I nodded. “Yes, please. The bottle opener is in the middle drawer.”

  He immediately found it and uncorked the bottle. This was something I loved about Maxwell wines: they were all corked, no matter the price. It made me feel fancy whenever I uncorked a bottle as opposed to just opening a twist cap.

  I took out wineglasses, and we both sat down at the table again. Having him here was nerve-racking and reassuring at the same time. I had no idea how that was possible.

  “Which brother owns Maxwell Wineries? Is it Travis? I remember reading an article about your family, but I got the names mixed up.”