Page 60 of Right Man, Right Time
“Don’t take a page out of my book,” I say. “It’s not a healthy way to live.”
“You say that,” she says, tilting her head as she looks at me, “yet you don’t listen to your own advice.”
“Never said I was an expert at handling emotions. I just know if you have feelings, you’ll feel better when you get them off your chest.” I run my thumb over her cheek.
“Well, I’m nervous. What if people don’t like me? I’ll be letting you down.”
“Trust me, the last thing you can do when dressed in that sweater is let me down.”
That puts a smile on her face. “Really a fan of the sweater, huh?”
“Everyone is a fan of the sweater.”
“Told you I could dress warm and slutty.”
“You continue to prove me wrong.” Now that she’s feeling a touch lighter, I ask, “Ready to do this?”
“I am.” She nods. “And thanks, Silas, for understanding.”
“Listen. We’re both doing each other a favor here. Working out all the kinks will take a second, but once we’re comfortable, it will be easy moving forward.”
“I hope so.” She pushes off the wall and snuggles into my arm as we hold hands and head down the hallway again. “Remember, no ditching me.”
“Babe, trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Babe?” she asks, with a raise of her brow.
I just shrug my shoulder, choosing not to address it because honestly, the term of endearment just slipped out. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be much I can control these days.
Like the way I keep glancing over at her stunning eyes.
Or how my gaze drifts down to her shirt and her mouth-watering tits.
Or how I can’t wait to get out on the ice despite being sore, so I can show her how to skate.
Ollie is fun to be around, and I appreciate her keeping my mind off my demons.
“So this is where we enter on game days,” I say. “And that”—I point at our logo on the wall—“that is what we tap before we enter the arena.”
“Is it a good luck thing?”
I nod. “Yeah, good luck, tradition, all of the combined.”
“And these heavy mats on the floor, is this because you wear skates?”
“Yup,” I say as we pass a few employees. I nod and smile at them.
“Do you ever stop to talk to fans?”
“Before the game, not really. I’ll toss pucks over the boards to fans after warm-ups, but conversations and autographs? No. I’ll save that for after games . . . games that we win. Coach doesn’t like us hanging out on the ice after a loss.”
“I can understand that. Good thing you win a lot, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I haven’t really paid attention to your stats.”
“Shame, I could really impress you.”
“Stats mean nothing to me. How you treat the people around you, now that’s something to talk about.”
I lead her out onto the ice. The staff has truly made something special out of the event, they always do. Half of the ice is a rink for family and friends to skate on. Covered by rugs, the other half has a mix of couches, chairs, tables, and of course, hot cocoa and s’mores stations, which are really more for the kids. Food is up in the club section. I’ve been to this event a few times with Sarah, so being here with Ollie feels slightly awkward.
