Page 28 of Elite Player
“I knew I wanted to marry her before that, but I didn’t want to pretend she was some random woman anymore. When that puck knocked her out, for a moment, I thought I killed her. I thought I killed the love of my life, and when I saw her there in the hospital bed, I needed her to know—everyone to know—that she’s mine.”
The three players gape at us until Nico bends to kiss my cheek before telling them, “So don’t scare her off, all right? Best behavior.”
That earns a few chuckles, and everyone relaxes.
Except for me.
CHAPTER 9
NICO
Jo wastaut as a bowstring for the first fifteen minutes we sat at the table, and it took JP telling a story about how his dad caught his little brother putting his dick in the family’s milk for her to finally loosen up. It’s impossible not to react to hearing about someone jerking off in 2%, so when she leaned into my side, hiding her amused grimace against my shoulder, I curled my arm around her and laughed into her hair, happy she was finally enjoying herself.
After she helped herself to a few fries and a bite of my burger, we moved on to the subject of hockey and our team, and she surprised the shit out of me by taking part in the conversation. Especially when it came to my position on the team.
Cubby is a young up-and-coming right winger with stars in his eyes, while JP is a solid center. Buss is one of the older players on the team, and even though I can always count on him when we’re on the ice, he’s been battling injuries this past year, and this last season will most likely be his last. He’s already warned me, partly because he thinks I’ve been holding back. He reminds me all the time I’ve got more in me to give, that I should really be getting more second line minutes with Cubby, but I’m not skating at 100% on the ice.
Which is what he tells the table now, and Jo doesn’t disagree. “You need to find the energy you had back in Florida,” she says. “You had almost double the shots on goal there.”
It takes a few seconds to recover from her observations about my play and the fact that I find it incredibly attractive. Even if she is this emo goth girl, she also likes hockey.
My girl likes hockey.
“I also played there for three years. Of course my average is going to be higher there than for a team I’ve only been on for a few months.”
“If you look at the same months, though, you were still taking a lot more shots. It’s like you’re afraid or something since you were traded.”
I let my gaze wander over her face, the silver and black makeup she’s put on her eyes that wings out to the sides, the long lashes that fan like butterfly wings, and the dark berry lipstick that makes her lips look ripe for the taking. Her skin has a sort of sparkle to it, and I’m tempted to cup her cheeks, discover if I might sparkle too, but I know that would make her uncomfortable, so I force myself to stop admiring her and reach for my beer instead, trying on my best flirtatious smile. “You been doing research on me?”
“Maybe,” she whispers back, and is…is Josephine—myJojo—flirting back with me?
“Maybe I like that.”
Her throat flushes red, and I take another long gulp of my cold beer, hoping it cools my blood. “I’m going to run to the restroom,” she tells me and slips off her chair, though I can’t even watch the way her hips sway, because that ridiculously oversized black hoodie hides most of her body. As usual, she’s in all black, from her head to her combat-boot-covered toes.
What I wouldn’t give to see more of my fiancée’s body.
Once she’s out of sight, Cubby shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.”
“Honestly? Me either.”
“But you love her?” JP asks, and I huff.
“Of course I love her.” At least, I hope I look like I do.
“What did Sheffy say when you told him?” Buss asks, and I toss another fry into my mouth. I informed Alex of this plan almost as soon as I concocted it. My best friend proceeded to call me an idiot and warn me that this would most likely blow up in my face.
Maybe.
But it would be worth it. To protect her from more embarrassment with her family. To give her a little happiness. It would be worth it.
“She’s a good girl,” Buss says, and I nod.
“The best.”
And for some unknown reason, Ifeelit’s true. Even though I barely know her at all. Aside from the fact that she’s reserved yet easygoing, cute but insecure, creative and introverted, I know deep down that she’s a good person. The best kind of person.
I feel it the same way I know how to play hockey—with my gut. An instinct.
