Olivier: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

by Brenda Rothert

  “Jesus,” he mutters. “You look incredible.”

  He hooks his arms behind my knees and eases himself inside me. I lean back to get a better angle, and my back hits the sink faucet.

  “Ouch. Shit.”

  “Here, want me to hold you?” he offers, sliding a hand around my back.

  I think about it for a brief second before responding. “Can we go do this on my bed?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  He surprises me by keeping his hold around my thighs and picking me up, carrying me into the bedroom while keeping his lips on mine. When he’s about to set me on the bed, I shake my head and smile.

  “You lie down,” I say breathlessly.

  With a groan, he sets me down and gets on the bed. As soon as he gets on his back, I climb on and straddle him, lowering myself onto him.

  “Fuck,” he says, stretching out the word as his length slides all the way into me.

  It feels perfect. All my questions and doubts are gone in this moment. It’s just the two of us, taking pleasure in each other and leaving the rest of the world behind.

  The only sounds in the room are the squeaking of my old mattress and our moans, growing louder as we both get closer to coming. Olivier grabs my hips and pulls me down against him, and it sends me over the edge.

  He’s right behind me, his muscles tensing with his release before going slack.

  We lay together then, and he pulls a blanket over us. Lying there in silence, curled up against him, is peaceful and perfect. I wish it could last forever.

  I’m scared. Conflicted. I don’t want to lose this, even though I know it may be my own fault if I do. So I close my eyes, breathe in the scent of Olivier’s cologne, and enjoy the moment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Daphne

  “Not just doughnuts, but fancy ones?” Ty laughs and reaches into the box. “This guy is the real deal, isn’t he?”

  I roll my eyes and grab a doughnut from the box. Ty and I both like to get into the office at least half an hour before we open to the public, so we can have coffee and usually, whatever we brought from home for breakfast. But on this Monday morning I decided to stop at the grocery store and get doughnuts for me, Ty and Nina.

  “The doughnuts have nothing to do with Olivier,” I say.

  “Uh huh!” Ty says dramatically after taking his first bite. “This shit’s got fruity filling, it ain’t no two-day old gas station doughnut. You’ve never brought these in before. I’m thinking somebody had a real nice weekend.”

  “I enjoyed my time at Annie’s Kitchen,” I say diplomatically.

  “I heard Mr. Moneybags donated more than a hundred grand worth of food to them. And showed up with his hockey team to pack boxes.”

  “He did.”

  Ty shakes his head. “What’s with the rain cloud over your head, Daph? That’s the kind of stuff we live for in our line of work.”

  I take my time chewing my bite of doughnut, trying to find a way to put my feelings into words.

  “He’s just about perfect. I know that,” I say. “After I ended things with Aiden, I planned to be single and focus on myself for a while. And then Olivier…” I smile and shake my head. “The billionaire owner of the Chicago Blaze saved my life in dramatic fashion, and he happens to be incredibly attractive, an amazing dad and a generous person. And he’s also into me. Me, an overly skeptical liberal who questions his motives and dislikes rich people.”

  Ty shrugs. “Sounds like the plot of one of the movies my wife likes to drag me to.”

  “It does, but it’s my life. And I wish I could just let go of my doubts and convictions and enjoy every minute, but…”

  “Break these doubts and convictions down for me,” Ty says. “List them out.”

  “Well, the biggest doubt goes something like what if this is all because of the Twitter stuff and once he figures out how boring and average I actually am, he’ll jump in bed with the first supermodel who throws herself at him.”

  “You must not think very highly of his judgment.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and look away, Ty’s words stinging.

  “It’s not that, Ty. I just keep asking myself if two complete opposites have a chance at something lasting. I’m not a woman who wants to attend fancy balls on his arm and vacation on a yacht in St. Tropez.”

  Ty scoffs playfully. “Shit, if someone offered to take me to St. Tropez on their yacht right now, I’d have my bag packed in about a minute and a half.”

  “Living a lavish lifestyle is counter to what this place is about.”

  After setting his coffee cup and plate down on the counter, Ty gives me a serious look.

  “Is this guy vacationing on his yacht much, or is he working in his office, raising his kid and donating to charities and making a big difference?”

  I rub my temple, aggravated. “What if the donations are just about impressing me?”

  “Then he’s a hell of a good guy, that’s what. You think all rich people are dicks because your parents are, but it’s not true.”

  “I guess I do base my opinion on them,” I admit. “But I was also hurt by what happened with Aiden, and Aiden’s not half the man Olivier is. After my broken engagement, I swore to myself I wouldn’t fall in crazy, stupid love. Ever.”

  “It must be exhausting to think so hard about why you don’t deserve this, Daph.”

  I stare at him, not knowing how to respond.

  “It’s not just that,” I confess, my throat tight with emotion. “It is partly that, I admit. But it’s also about being true to what matters to me. Can I do that while also dating a man who spends staggering amounts of money on his lifestyle? He’s not flashy about it, but he wears expensive suits and he has a plane, a helicopter and a yacht.”

  “Look,” he continues. “Aliyah and I have worked hard for what we have. I don’t make a ton of money here, but I love my work. And she busted her ass to get her MBA to get a promotion at her company. When we have birthdays or anniversaries, we go out to a nice restaurant to celebrate. We take a week off every summer for a road trip. I could tell myself it’s not right to spend a hundred bucks on dinner when people come in here hungry every day. I could cut my own salary to put more money into helping the homeless. But I leave my work here when I walk out the door at the end of the day. And if you can’t do that, you won’t make it, Daph.”

  “I guess…I haven’t thought of it that way.”

  “Frenchie earned his money. And he’s generous. Hell, I bet you could get him to be even more generous. But it boils down to this—you and him are people first. People with feelings. Cut out all the money and planes and shit. How does being with him make you feel?”

  “Amazing.” My heart pounds at the answer that slips out from my heart before my head has time to overanalyze and crush it.

  “I’ve never seen you happier,” Ty says. “And don’t let me hear any more of that shit about supermodels. This guy came chasing after you hard because you’re a beautiful, smart, generous woman. He sees through the stubbornness and the self-doubt. My advice is to grab on to him with both hands, hold on and enjoy the ride. Aliyah’s way more than I deserve, but I spend every day making sure I treat her so great she never figures that out.”

  Ty takes another doughnut from the box, picks up his coffee and heads for the open door to the breakroom. He turns around in the doorway and says, “We good?”

  I nod, a smile slowly spreading across my face. “Yeah. And thanks. You’re right.”

  “Tell Frenchie I like boats. The bigger, the better.”

  I laugh. “Now you want us to vacation together? Leave poor Nina here all alone?”

  “It could be just me and Frenchie. A trip just for the guys. Just saying.”

  “Uh huh.”

  He grins. “Take off early today if you want.”

  “I think I will. I guess I need to tell Olivier that my boss helped me figure out how wrong I was.”

  Before I even finish talking, I’
m digging through my bag for my phone. I send Olivier a text.

  Me: Good morning. Do you have time to get together today? Afternoon or evening?

  Olivier: Good morning, beautiful. Of course I have time. I’ve got meetings until 3:30. I could come by your office after that?

  Me: That would be great. I’ll see you then.

  Olivier: Looking forward to it. Have a good day at work.

  Me: You too.

  An excited swirling sensation fills my chest. I’m going to tell Olivier I want to be with him. No more questions and doubts. It’s not about how much money he does or doesn’t have. It’s about the man he is. And I’ve seen enough of that man to know we should see where things take us.

  If I continue to feel this way with him, I can’t imagine wanting any man but Olivier ever again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Olivier

  I glance at my watch and wave Ben off as he holds the car door open for me outside the downtown bank I just exited.

  “I’ve only got five minutes until my next meeting and it’s only a block away,” I tell him. “I’m going to walk.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be waiting outside the building when you finish.”

  My phone rings as I say, “Thanks, Ben. It won’t be more than forty-five minutes.”

  The meeting is about a real estate company I’m trying to buy, and if we can’t wrap things up by three this afternoon, I’m leaving so I can get to Daphne’s office on time.

  She’s always on my mind. I always want more time with her and the more time we spend together, the more I can prove I’m a man of my word. Her defenses have started to lower and it’s like watching the sun peek out behind some clouds, everything getting brighter bit by bit.

  I’m hoping she wants to discuss sneaking in a couple hours at her place soon. Like this evening. Giselle has band practice after school, and I’d like nothing more than to spend as much time as I can with Daphne before I need to get home for dinner.

  “Hello?” I say, answering my phone as I make my way down the block.

  “Dad!”

  “Giselle, hi. Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now.”

  “Yeah, I’m in the bathroom and I only have like a minute before my next class, but guess what?”

  “I have no idea. Tell me.”

  “Someone asked me to the spring dance!”

  Her voice is filled with excitement, and emotion wells in my throat. I haven’t heard my daughter sound this happy in a long time.

  “I’m not surprised at all; that sounds like a boy who knows a great girl when he sees one.”

  “His name is Eric and he’s a drummer. I have to get a dress. Will you be able to take me shopping?”

  “I sure can. Whenever you want to go. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I have to go.”

  “Okay, see you tonight, ma crevette. I love you.”

  “Bye, love you.”

  I end the call and put my phone back in my pocket, feeling light. Giselle has struggled so hard with depression; it means a lot to hear her excited about something again.

  Pedestrian traffic is heavy downtown today. I wait in the back of a crowd gathered at the street corner for the light to change so we can cross over to the next block. As soon as I get to the other side of the road, I take my phone back out to text Hassan and tell him not to add anything else to my schedule today.

  Daphne hasn’t explicitly said she’s made up her mind about us, but she doesn’t have to. When we’re together, the connection is undeniable. I can see it in the way she looks at me, feel it in the way she touches me. She has a long list of reasons why it might not work, but that hasn’t stopped her from getting closer to me.

  Hassan texts me back and I look down at my phone.

  Hassan: I’ll keep your afternoon clear. Reminder that you’re flying out early tomorrow for a board meeting in NY.

  Me: Okay, thanks.

  I reach the office building my meeting is at and climb the concrete stairs, opening the door and holding it for an older woman. She thanks me and is about to step inside when I feel a sudden, crushing pain in my shoulder. My phone goes flying and I’m suspended in midair, time seeming to stop. It doesn’t last, though. I crash into something hard, the world around me instantly going dark.

  Chapter Twenty

  Daphne

  “Just take me to him, please.”

  My voice breaks with emotion as I beg the ICU nurse to bring me to Olivier. It’s been more than two hours since I found out about his accident, and every minute has felt like an eternity.

  I was making calls to find a homeless man a rehab center when I got a call at the office from Olivier’s assistant, Hassan. He told me Olivier was injured this afternoon in a freak accident—a large chunk of stone from the top of the older building he was walking into crumbled off of the building and fell onto Olivier.

  The stone hit his shoulder and arm, causing him to fall down several concrete stairs and hit his head. That was all Hassan knew when he called, and he told me to meet him here as soon as I could.

  “This is Mr. Durand’s fiancée.” I hear Hassan’s voice and turn around to see him a couple steps from the ICU floor’s front desk. “He would want her to be with him.”

  It’s a lie, obviously, but Hassan is a genius. It’s probably the only way I’ll get in to see Olivier. I’m desperate to know how bad his injuries are.

  “We’re still assessing his injuries,” the nurse says. “Please be patient.”

  Olivier’s driver Ben approaches the ICU desk, his arm around a teenage girl with red, swollen eyes. He meets my gaze, looking worried but unsure what to say.

  “Giselle,” I say softly.

  She’s a pretty girl, with long, light brown hair, hazel eyes and braces. When she meets my eyes, I’m pulled closer to her by a force I can’t explain. I know it’s not okay to hug people you hardly know, especially when they’re probably in shock, but I can’t help myself. I go to her and open my arms.

  “Daphne?” she says tearfully.

  “Yes.” I hold her and she cries, which makes me start crying, too.

  “What’s going on?” she asks when we pull apart. “Is my dad okay?”

  “We’re trying to find out what’s going on.” I take her hand and go back to the desk, clearing my throat. “When can we expect to find out how he is?”

  The nurse gives me a sympathetic look. “Soon. I’m sorry I don’t have an answer for you yet. Let me show you guys to a private waiting area and I’ll go check on him right now.”

  As soon as the nurse shows us to a room with a couch and several chairs, I sit down and cry some more. This is a cruel twist of fate. I finally, finally managed to get out of my own way and was about to tell Olivier I want to be with him. What if I never get that chance?

  Is he in pain? Is he permanently injured? I have so many questions, but for Giselle’s sake, I have to stay strong. Olivier would want that.

  Hassan and Ben sit down, both of them looking shell-shocked.

  “Has anyone seen him?” Giselle asks. “Was anyone with him?”

  “I was,” Ben says solemnly. “I didn’t see it happen, but I was waiting in the SUV close by and went to see if someone needed help when I saw the crowd.”

  “Was he awake?” Giselle asks, wiping under her eyes as more tears fall. “Did he say anything?”

  Ben meets my eyes for a brief second and then shakes his head.

  It’s bad. I can see it all over Ben’s face, but he doesn’t want to say it in front of Giselle.

  “Was there…” Giselle chokes her words out. “…blood?”

  “Hey,” I say softly, putting an arm around her. “He’s alive, and he’s a fighter. Let’s see what they say when the nurse comes in to update us, okay?”

  “Yeah.” She looks down and intertwines her fingers. “I had just talked to him. I called him. I just can’t…”

  She covers her eyes, trying to cry quietly.

  “You
cry as much as you need to,” I tell her. “I had to have a coworker drive me here because I was too upset to even call an Uber.”

  The door to the room opens and we all look over hopefully, expecting the nurse with an update. Instead, Anton Petrov and Luca Campbell from the Blaze walk into the room.

  “What the hell happened?” Anton asks, his gaze dark and his worry clear.

  “A piece of stone from a building fell and hit him in the shoulder,” Ben says. “It caused him to fall down several stairs and hit his head.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Anton says, noticing Giselle right after the words come out and saying, “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she says, her voice sounding hoarse.

  “What can we do?” Luca asks.

  “We’re waiting to hear how he’s doing,” I say.

  “Also, while we’re all here, Daphne is his fiancée,” Hassan says. “So they’ll let her in to be with him.”

  “Yeah, he’d want that,” Luca says. “But seriously, is there anything we can do?”

  Hassan shakes his head. “We just have to wait.”

  Three more players from the Blaze come walking into the room. I only recognize one of them, Knox Deveraux.

  “How the hell can they not tell us what’s going on?” Knox demands after someone explains what happened.

  The nurse comes in then, followed by a man and a woman, one of which I’m hoping is Olivier’s doctor.

  “I’m Shawna Hayes, one of the doctors treating Mr. Durand,” the woman says. “We need everyone who isn’t family to wait in the hallway, please.”

  Everyone in the room looks around at each other, but no one gets up.

  “Everyone here is family,” I say.

  Shawna nods. “And you’re his fiancée?”

  “Yes. Daphne Barrington.”

  She nods, looking around the room again. Given that Ben and one of the Blaze players are Black, and Hassan appears to be Middle Eastern, I can tell she doesn’t believe me about everyone here being family. But sometimes family is about more than blood.