“I appreciate that you understand my position, but I don’t want you to make excuses for me.” She tips her head to the side. “I actually liked that you were one of my brother’s teammates. It meant I didn’t have to worry about you wanting to be around me for any other reason than I was helping you. And you hated each other, so for me that was another win, because you weren’t with me all the time because you wanted to get in with him. It had nothing to do with RJ at all, and I didn’t want to share that with anyone.”
“But then I came to that event with you,” I supply.
She nods. “I should’ve expected all the attention, but instead I buried my head in the sand like I always do. I fooled myself into believing it would be like every other night we were together, and that’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made you hide along with me. If I’d chilled out about it, then maybe the first thing on social media with the two of us wouldn’t have been a stupid viral video that everyone freaked out over, including me.”
“If I’d made a move before that night, there might not be a viral video.” I feel like I need to take some of the blame for this.
“You were trying to follow your coach’s orders.” Stevie smiles softly and sighs. “So I’m sorry for the way I reacted, for not being able to handle it, and for telling you I needed time to think and then not responding to your message right away, but I had a lot of emotional baggage to unpack.”
“And now that you’ve unpacked it, how do you feel about everything?”
“Like I wish I would’ve handled things differently in the first place.”
“Sort of like how I wish I hadn’t been such an asshole when you first moved in.” I give her a half smile.
“The boner-killer insult was pretty unforgettable.”
“I was in a mood.” I lift our clasped hands and press my lips to her knuckle.
“So rare for you.”
“The boner-killer comment was bullshit anyway, and you know it.” I lean in closer, fingering a lock of pale-lavender hair. “This past week without you was awful. I hated it. I hated not talking to you, not having you up my ass about workouts, not seeing your face, even if it was on a stupid tiny screen.”
“I hated all of those things too.”
“I can deal with away games as long as I have you when I get back.”
“To stretch you out?”
I roll my eyes, which I realize is usually her reaction, not mine. “Can you ever not be pithy?”
She cringes. “It might be my defense mechanism.”
“Turn it off for a second, ’kay?”
“Sorry.” She presses her lips together.
“I want to be the olive to your pineapple.” I smooth my thumb along the edge of her jaw, and she tips her head back: an unconscious reaction, I’m sure, but it says everything words can’t. For so many reasons we probably shouldn’t fit together, but we do.
She laughs. “I told you it would grow on you.”
“I’ll never openly admit I like it, though.” I cup her face in my palms and dip down and brush my lips over hers. “My whole world is better with you in it, Stevie.”
“Mine too.”
“I want to take you on dates, in public places. I just want to be with you.”
She exhales a shuddery breath and whispers, “I want the same.”
“I don’t want to have to hide how I feel about you anymore.”
“Me either.”
I grab her by the waist and shift her so she’s straddling my lap. There are a million way more romantic ways I could do this, and I consider running across the hall to get the flowers and chocolate, but we’re here, and mostly naked, and I’m thinking this is a pretty convenient setup, so the flowers can wait.
“I want to tell you something important.”
“Okay.” She laces her fingers behind my neck.
“I love you.”
Her eyes are soft and a little watery. “I love you too, Shippy.”
“I want to hate that nickname, but coming from you it’s not so bad.”
“It probably helps that I’m mostly undressed and sitting on top of your hard-on.”
“Probably.”
She presses her lips to mine, and we spend the next two hours showing each other how we feel with actions and not a whole lot of words—except some dirty ones.
CHAPTER 28
DISGUISE NOT NEEDED
Stevie
One week later
“Please tell me you don’t go to all this trouble for every game.” I’m currently at a spa getting pampered. Spas and pampering have never been my thing. Having someone do my hair, makeup, and nails is excessively indulgent—but it might grow on me.
“Depends on where we are in the season. For playoff games I go all out, but regular season no,” Violet says. An aesthetician is currently bent over her hand, affixing a jewel and a tiny Seattle team decal to her nail. I think that would drive me bonkers, but she seems to love it. “Back when Alex was on the ice, I used to get my beaver BeDazzled for special games.”
“Your beaver?”
She motions below the waist.
“Seriously?” She’s not laughing, so I have to assume she either has a great deadpan or she really has BeDazzled her lady bits.
“Oh yeah, and if you’re not too vigorous about the business, it’ll last a week or so. They do that here, if you’re interested.”
She’s definitely serious. “Uh, I think I’ll pass.”
Violet smiles and nods knowingly. “Probably smart since this is your coming-out party, and I’m assuming that boyfriend of yours is going to want to get down and dirty later. Save the beaver-dazzling for a time when he can really appreciate it.”
I’ve decided I really like Violet, despite the fact that most conversations with her leave me blushing.
After three hours at the spa, we head back to Lainey’s to get ready. I dyed my hair again last week: a pale aqua that gradually brightens at the tips. This will be my first official game as Bishop’s girlfriend, and to say he’s excited about it would be one hell of an understatement.
I change into jeans and a hoodie with Bishop’s name and number on the back—I’m not giving up comfort just because my hair, nails, and makeup have been done. Lainey wears her jersey, but the back of hers reads MRS. BOWMAN, which is super cute.
My brother has a driver named George who’s available for events like this, so once we’re all dressed and ready, we head to the arena. We don’t have to go through the same doors as everyone else, and there’s a box reserved for us, although if we want to sit in the prime seats, we can do that too. I decided I should rip the bandage right off, so we’re behind the bench, close to the ice.
The urge to hide under my hood is strong, but we settle into our seats, other girlfriends and wives taking up the ones around us. I’ve met most of these women thanks to Violet’s “movie club.” In reality, it’s mostly an excuse to get together when the guys are away, eating snacks, drinking, and hanging out while we talk through movies, or pausing and rewinding scenes when the heroes are shirtless. So far the theme seems to be superhero movies. Regardless, it’s been fun.