This Is Wild

by Natasha Madison

  “Did it have to do with me?” he asks, and I roll my eyes.

  “No,” I lie to him.

  “You’re lying,” he says, shaking his head. “What was it?”

  “What was what?” I’m confused at his question.

  “What kept you up?” he asks me but doesn’t give me a chance to answer him. “I would wake up the minute I would finally get to you. The minute you would finally smile at me and I would go to you, my eyes would fly open.” He sets his coffee down. “What was it for you?”

  “The scene I walked into,” I tell him softly. “The whole scene of opening the door and seeing you.”

  He shakes his head and rubs his face. “That is not something I’m proud of.”

  “I know that.” I pick up my coffee to keep my hands busy.

  “But it’s a part of who I am, and a part of my recovery, so I have to take responsibility for putting myself in that situation.”

  “Do we have to talk about this?” I ask, my heart speeding up thinking about that scene and trying to erase it from my mind forever.

  “Yes,” he says. “Yes, we have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much that you wake from it.”

  “What is there to say?” I look at him. “What could there possibly be to say? It was awful, and heartbreaking, and I wanted to puke.”

  “And …?” he asks quietly.

  “And what?” I put my hands up. “It made me angry that you fought so hard to get there, and that this temptation was there.”

  “The temptation is there every single minute of every single day,” he says. “It’s everywhere.”

  “But you’re better than that,” I tell him. “You are so much better than that. Than what I walked in on. I can’t even imagine you being that person.”

  “But I was.” His voice doesn’t waver. “I was that guy who did nothing but chase my next high. I’m not proud of it, but that was me in all my glory.”

  “No.” I slap the counter. “You said the right words. That was you. That isn’t you now.”

  He comes to me now and turns me to face him, his hands going to my face. “Why are you getting mad?”

  “I’m getting mad because I get that you were that guy,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I get that that man is the reason you are this man. But I don’t want you to have doubts about being this man.”

  He shakes his head, laughing. “You really are cute when you get all riled up,” he tells me, coming and slipping his tongue into my mouth.

  “I know that it’s hard,” I say between kisses. “And it’s not pretty. But it’s who you are,” I tell him, hugging him now with my face in his chest. “And I love all of you.”

  He kisses my head. “I love you,” he says right back to me. “More than you will ever know.” I don’t move and neither does he. I just listen to his heart beating, and I’m okay with it. I’m happy with it. My phone ringing is what pulls us apart. “That sounds like Zara.”

  “Who else would be calling me before seven a.m.?” I tell him and go to my phone, seeing it is Zara. “Good morning,” I say chipper and then hear her burst into tears. “What’s the matter?” I ask her, already grabbing my jacket.

  “Zoey didn’t sleep all night and I have no milk,” Zara starts to say. “Literally, my boobs are as big as cantaloupes, and I have nothing.”

  “What did the nurse say?” I ask her and then sit down.

  “That it’s normal,” she says, and I look up at Viktor. “I’m just … I need …”

  “I’ll be right over, and I’ll bring you some decaf coffee,” I tell her, and she just sniffles.

  “With some doughnuts.”

  “Well, obviously we can’t have decaf coffee without doughnuts,” I tell her and disconnect.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks me, and I just look at him.

  “Yeah, I think she’s just tired and overwhelmed.” I get up and grab my jacket. “I’m going to go talk her off the ledge.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” he asks me, and I just shake my head. “Am I going to see you tonight?”

  I tilt my head and smirk at him. “Depends if you play your cards right, Mr. Petrov,” I say. Walking to him, I get on my tippy toes and kiss his lips. “Text me later and we’ll see.” He laughs. “What’s so funny?”

  “That you think you have a choice in the matter.” He kisses my lips while I laugh and walks me to the elevator. “Text me when you get there.”

  “Oh, good God,” I say, getting into the elevator and pressing the L button. “Don’t you start with that man shit of telling his woman what to do.”

  He puts his hands on his hips. “Call it whatever you want to call it. Text me when you get there.”

  “No,” I say as soon as the door starts to close. “I’ll text you later.”

  “You better not.” I hear him say right before the elevator goes down. I walk out and hail a cab to the hospital, grabbing some coffee and doughnuts from around the corner.

  “Good morning,” I say, knocking on the door and going in to see Zara sitting up in bed with her head back, and in the middle of her open legs lies Zoey, who just looks around. Evan’s sitting on the chair with his head back also with his eyes closed.

  “Why are you wearing the same thing as yesterday?” Zara asks, and now Evan opens his eyes.

  “I brought coffee and doughnuts,” I say, ignoring the questions. “Who wants one?” I say, handing Evan a coffee and then giving Zara hers. “And how is my favorite little Zoey?” I ask her, and she turns at the sound of my voice. Her lips are so plump. “Aren’t you the most perfect baby in the world,” I tell her. Putting the doughnuts down, I go to wash my hands, then come back into the room. “Let me hold her,” I say, grabbing her up from the bed and holding her in my arms while I walk around. “Good morning,” I tell her, and she just blinks.

  “So are we just ignoring my question?” Zara says.

  “I have to be on the ice in two hours, and I’m going to die,” Evan says, and Zara glares at him.

  “You slept most of the night,” she says to him. “Every single time I looked over, you were sleeping.”

  They bicker back and forth, and he finally gets up. “Give me a kiss. I have to go, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He stands over her. “Love you,” he says softly, and she leans in and kisses his lips.

  “Love you,” she sasses to him and smiles. He turns around and walks over to me.

  “Bye, baby girl,” he says to Zoey and kisses her head. “I’m going to give you a high-five,” he says to me. “Because one, you’re wearing the same clothes you were yesterday, and two, I don’t know what you did with that.”

  I shake my head and laugh. “Trust me, it’s not anything like you think,” I say, holding my hand up to high-five him. He shakes his head and laughs walking out.

  “So,” Zara says, “cut all this bullshit.”

  “Your mom is the most annoying sister of life,” I tell Zoey. “Nothing to tell. I went over to Viktor’s, and we made out on the couch, and I feel asleep there.”

  “That’s it?” she says. “Nothing more. No hand magic or mouth action?”

  “Nothing,” I say and then look down at Zoey who starts to squirm. “And I’m not going to rush it.”

  “It’s been six months of foreplay. How is that rushing it?” she asks me, and then Zoey turns her head to the side and tries to find my boob. “How can she be hungry again?” she shrieks, and I just shrug my shoulders. Lucky for me, my mother, Allison, Karrie, and Vivienne walk in at that moment.

  “Well, well, well,” Allison says, looking at me. “That outfit looks a tad familiar.”

  “I think so also,” Karrie says, and now I glare at them.

  “Oh, snap, is this the walk of shame?” Vivienne says. “But then is it really shame?”

  “Good morning,” my mother says to Zara and kisses her. “How are you doing?” She talks to Zara while Allison, Karrie, and Vivienne come over to me.

  “So how was it?
” Vivienne asks. “Is he all that and a big tall glass of ice water in the desert heat?” she asks, and Allison and Karrie just look at her, shaking their head. “I haven’t had sex in seven months. Seven months. I’m dry and so thirsty.”

  “Is anyone going to tell me why she hasn’t had sex in seven months?” I ask while Allison grabs baby Zoey from me.

  “No,” Vivienne snaps with her voice low. “No one needs to know. It’s just a bump.”

  “I bet you would like to bounce on that bump all night long.” Karrie says to her, and Vivienne closes her eyes. “I swear the next time she has sex she’s going to be like a virgin boy going off as soon as she’s touched.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears,” she says, and the next couple of hours are spent with us passing Zoey around. I leave before everyone else and make my way home, grabbing my phone and checking my messages.

  Viktor: Why didn’t you text me?

  Viktor: I’m waiting for an answer, Zoe.

  Viktor: This ​will be discussed ​tonight in detail.

  Viktor: I’m going on the ice, and by the time I get off the ice, I want you to check in.

  I roll my eyes and then finally answer him.

  Me: Oh my God. Made it to the hospital, going home now. I have a showing at four, so I’ll be working from home. You can call me when you can.

  I’m not home for more than two hours when the doorbell rings, and I run down and open it, not expecting it to be Viktor with two boxes in his hand and a bouquet.

  “What in the world?” I ask him, stepping back, and he comes in, dropping down the boxes on the table and the flowers and coming over to me.

  “You didn’t call me?” he whispers and then picks me up, and my legs wrap around his waist. “I told you to call me.” I’m breathless from him being here, I’m breathless from being in his arms, I’m breathless yet want nothing more than to get lost in his kisses, again. “I waited for your call,” he says, walking through the house and to the couch. “I checked my phone five times in two minutes.”

  “Antsy, aren’t we?” I joke with him, but then I see his eyes are a dark blue. He isn’t laughing at this. “I was fine.”

  “But I didn’t know that,” he tells me. “I spent the past two months not knowing anything about you. I didn’t know if you were okay, where you were, or who you were with. I knew nothing.”

  “But …” My voice dips down soft.

  “But can you just give me this?” he asks me. “Please.” And everything in me melts. “Just give me this one little thing.”

  I look into his eyes getting lost in the depth of the color. and I nod. “Okay,” I say right before he claims my mouth.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Viktor

  “What are you doing?” I ask Zoe when I finally make it to the hotel room and call her. The past three days have been some of my best days yet. I’m either at the rink or with Zoe, and I swear my step is even lighter.

  “I just got home,” she says, and she sounds tired. “They let Zara go home today, so I helped bring her home and set her up.” Evan was not pleased to be away and ​find out that Zara and Zoey ​would be headed home without him. He thought ​they would discharge her tomorrow when we get home, but she and the baby are doing so well, they let her go.

  “Why didn’t you just sleep there?” I ask her, settling under the covers and then taking my phone and pressing the FaceTime button.

  “Are you FaceTiming me?” she asks, surprised.

  “Are you going to answer it?” I ask, laughing at her.

  “Simmer down, big guy,” she says, and I see that it says it’s connecting. Her face fills the screen, and I see she’s lying in the bed on her side. “Hello there,” she says softly with a smile on her face. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

  “You look beautiful,” I tell her, turning on my side also.

  “Are you still dressed?” she asks me, and I nod my head.

  “Yeah, I just got in and called you before it got too late.” We played Dallas tonight, and tomorrow we are off to Boston and then finally home for our last game of the season on Saturday.

  “You played good tonight,” she says, and I laugh now.

  “Look at you now being all in the know about hockey,” I joke with her, knowing she usually never watches it.

  “I’m not a professional, but I do know when you did good and when you didn’t.” She laughs. “Like when you passed in the neutral zone and then it got intercepted and then you have a three on one.”

  “Jesus.” I shake my head.

  “Okay, fine, the guy on the television said it, too.” She smiles, and her eyes get lighter. “But I did agree with him,” she says and then her voice goes lower. “When are you coming home?”

  “Friday,” I tell her. “Morning, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “I miss you.” She tucks her hand under her chin. For the past two nights, we’ve fallen asleep after hours and hours of kissing. The nighttimes are not as hard when she’s there, but I wonder if it’s because I feel finally strong enough.

  “I miss you more.” My voice goes soft.

  “So you think when you come back on Friday, we could, you know, get acquainted with each other?” She winks at me, and my eyebrows pinch together. “I love kissing you, and I love being in your arms, but …” She takes a deep breath. “But I want to get naked with you. I don’t want to force you or, I don’t know, mess up all the recovery stuff. Is it okay for you to have sex?” She starts to talk to herself, not letting me in on the conversation. “I don’t want you to get into trouble, or for you, I don’t know, to get addicted to something else.”

  “Baby,” I say softly, and she just looks at me. I have only called her baby one other time, and that is when she cried in my arms. “There is nothing more that I want in this life than to get naked with you. But …” I say, and her eyes open.

  “You know but is never a good thing, right?” I can sense the nervousness in her voice.

  “As I was saying …” I smirk. “But I want to do the dating and show you how awesome of a boyfriend I am.”

  “Um, it’s been six months of foreplay,” she huffs. “Six months of wanting to get you naked. I think it’s safe to say you are an awesome boyfriend, and you’ll be even awesomer if we can get naked.”

  I laugh. “I don’t think awesomer is a word.”

  She throws up one hand and slaps it back down on the bed. “That is the only thing that you took from that conversation?”

  “Can we table this conversation until I get home, and I can touch you while we talk?”

  She shakes her head. “Do you or do you not want to see me naked?” she asks and doesn’t give me a chance to say anything when her voice gets a touch higher. “Do you or do you not want to touch me while I’m naked?” Just the thought of her naked and under me has me rock hard, and I swear I feel like my cock ​will bust my zipper.

  “Baby,” I say softly.

  “No, Viktor, no, baby,” she huffs. “Friday night, I will let you take me out and then we can say we went on a date and then you are going to take me home and we are going to get naked.”

  “Is that so?” I joke with her, and she looks at me and glares.

  “That is so!” she shrieks. “Now I’m going to go to bed where I’ll be meeting you in my dreams.” Her voice goes lower now. “Where we will be on a beach and both naked.” I laugh out loud to the last part. “Now good night. Text me if you can’t sleep.”

  “Love you,” I say to her, and her eyes go soft.

  “I love you, too,” she says and disconnects.

  The next two nights are not as bad as I thought they would be. We talk during the day whenever we are free, and we dance around the subject o​f sex. When the wheels touch down in New York, I grab my phone and see that it’s ten a.m.

  Me: Just landed.

  I text Zoe and then grab my bag to walk down the steps of the plane. “Where are you off to?” Matthew asks me as I walk toward the waitin
g line of taxis.

  “Probably home,” I tell him and look down when my phone beeps in my pocket.

  “Rest up. Tomorrow is a big game,” he says, walking toward his car. “We might already be in the playoffs, but it’s always good to win against one of the six OG’s.”

  I pull out my phone and see a text from Zoe.

  Zoe: Why don’t you head over here before going home?

  Me: I could do that.

  I answer her back and see the three dots come on screen while I get into a car and give them Zoe’s address.

  Zoe: You could, and you should.

  Me: In the car, be ​there in twenty.

  I scroll through my emails to see if I need to see anything. I see ​a couple from Candace about my Twitter account and my suggestions. We pull up to the house, and I get out of the car, grabbing my bag. I walk up the step and ring the doorbell looking around and then seeing her come down the stairs and I ​start to smile. My heartbeat speeds up just a touch, my palms get clammy, but I can’t stop the fullness I feel in my chest.

  I hear the doors unlock, and the smile now gets bigger and bigger, knowing ​I’ll see her. But when she opens the door, the smile goes away. It falls from my face because she stands there wearing what is a white knitted sweater that falls off her shoulder, and you can totally see ​she isn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples are hard, and the sweater falls, covering her but just barely. I stand ​here with my mouth hanging ​open at this point. I move my eyes from the top of her head all the way down past the measly excuse for a shirt and see her long lean legs naked. She stands there on her tippy toes, and I storm inside, charging right for her. My hand goes around her waist. “Welcome home,” she whispers right before her hands go around my neck, and I take her mouth. I’ve missed her more than I cared to admit. I’ve missed her kisses, her laugh, her scowl. My hand goes into her hair, pulling her head back so I can attack her neck.

  She moans, and I walk into the house, stopping in the entryway and pushing her back against the wall. “You’re naked under this,” I say breathlessly, my fingers going to her cheek and then trailing down her chin to her clavicle and then her shoulder. Slowly moving my finger down, I go over her hard nipple and then go around it. She shivers under my touch, her chest rising and falling as fast as mine. My finger trails down the middle of her chest, our eyes both looking at the way my finger is moving.