Page 121 of Play Maker

“That’s fucked up.”

“I keep telling you that,” Axel replied, his eyes darkening. “You sure you want to be with me? This might not be the last of him. Or, them.”

I stared at him, at those midnight blues. It wasn’t just frustration that Axel was dealing with, it was loneliness too.Loneliness and lies. And I hated that. He deserved so much more.

“Forget our Friday night date,” I blurted out.

“What?” Axel’s grip on my arms tightened.

“Let’s not wait until tomorrow. Let’s go tonight.”

Instead of replying, Axel reached for me, cupping my face, slamming his lips over mine, all heat and hunger, and fuck my man knew how to kiss. We were both sweaty from practice and there was way too much padding between our bodies, but that didn’t stop us. Until our helmets knocked against each other, and we laughed, breaking apart, finally coming up for air.

“Let’s get changed and go on that date.”

I glanced at the clock at the far end of the rink.

“You’ve still got seven minutes of ice time left,” I pointed out.

Axel groaned and I nudged him with my elbow.

“Come on, we’re headed into the finals, you’ve gotta keep in top shape.”

“Sex doesn’t count?” he quipped but relented when I gave him a knowing look.

“Fine,” he grumbled and reached for his stick.

I chuckled at his put-out tone, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

Despite Preston’s unwelcome interruption, I was okay. Unsettled for sure, but not panicked. I guess years of therapy, the support of my aunt, my friends, and now Axel, meant that I was ready to face whatever opponent came at me. Even if it was an old one.

Axel and I finished up our practice as promised, then headed for the locker room to quickly change. We went our separate ways when we got to the dorm, with Axel insisting that he’d knock on my door when he was ready.

I showered, shaved, and slathered styling crème through my messy dark waves. After slipping into my favorite pair of jeans,I reached for a white t-shirt and layered on the jersey that Axel bought me. It was an exact replica of our team jersey, forest green, complete with our cougar logo in gold, and with ‘Axel Lund’ written across the back and his number thirteen. It should’ve been odd to see someone else’s name and number on my shirt, but I didn’t feel anything but happiness. Not just that, it was like he was right here, holding on to me, wrapped tight. A feeling of safety and love that I didn’t take for granted.

I picked up my phone and turned my back to face the mirror, taking a snap and sending it to Axel.

Axel: My phone’s melting. Honey, you’re the one who’s Hot.

Jace: It fits perfectly. It was meant to be.

Axel: I’m on my way. I can’t wait.

Jace: Good, because I’m more than ready for this date.

Two and a half minutes later, there was a knock on my door. With eager hands, I reached for my jacket and gloves, and opened the door to find Axel standing there looking gorgeous.

And nervous? He wasn’t the only one.

Dressed in black jeans, a matching button-down, and his parka, he leaned against the doorjamb and gave me the same once-over. He’d trimmed his reddish-blond scruff, and his shaggy hair was tamed (most of it). But it was his face that did me in, graced with that rare, wicked smile that had the power to knock my knees out.

He reached for me just in time, but then I remembered.

“Hold on,” I urged him as I placed my jacket on the floor. “I have something for you.”

I turned back and headed for my dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out a white paper bag. When I passed it to him, he stared down at it in confusion.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

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