Page 43 of UnWholly Angels
“Minus the shitty food, abusive COs, and solitary when we didn’t play nice. Welcome back to the game, Bunkie,” he replied. The line went dead, and I threw the phone on the bed, running a nervous hand through my hair. I needed a game plan before shit hit the fan. With only a week off before the next game, something needed to be done, and fast.
Maya
The puzzle I had splayed out on the table was a challenge I would skillfully conquer in a matter of time. The thousand piece beach landscape had taken me hours, and I only had a few pieces left.
I pushed the peppermint stick between my lips, letting my tongue swirl around it, then slid it out, setting it back on thetable next to me as the last piece fit perfectly in the middle. People always thought I was nerdy for using puzzles to relax. A lot of others got frustrated when they couldn’t get past the border, but it was more than that to me.
I lived vicariously through them, choosing landscapes so I could picture myself in the mountains or the heat of the sun on my skin as I lay on the beach. All I’d ever wanted to do was hear the waves crash against the shore, and such an intellectual activity allowed me to do just that, without the money spent. Mentally, it was the one place Rocco would never catch me.
I wonder what the ocean smells like.
Making sure every piece was correctly lined up, I grabbed the puzzle glue, carefully placing the brush at each corner and dragging it perfectly down the sides. All I had to do was wait patiently for it to dry, then frame it for the collection I had stashed away in a storage locker. I’d lost count of how many I had so long ago. By now, it’d be too late to try and get to all these places, but maybe I could travel to at least five.
A pair of footsteps made their way to the kitchen, and I looked to Riley, noticing the brown paper bag that was tucked underneath his arm. The sweet aroma of greasy tacos filled my nostrils, and my mouth watered. After a day of concentrating on nothing but the lakefront of this puzzle, I forgot to eat, so I decided to settle on the peppermint sticks.
Immediately, Riley dropped the bag on the kitchen island and reached for the remote, turning on the Jacksonville vs. Seattle game, chuckling softly. “Your ravenous stare is burning a hole in my back. I would never grab food and not include you.”
“Really?” I asked excitedly. Of course, it was a common courtesy but never expected by me. Nevertheless, I grabbed the plate from his hand and placed a few on top. Tilting my head up to say thank you, I took a seat next to him and scoffed, noticing his hat.
He still wears that god awful hat.
“Something wrong?” he asked, eyes still trained on the game.
“Nope, but I do have a question,” I replied, placing Pico over the ground beef and cheese mix. “Is my life also hockey all day, every day?’
“Absolutely.” I heard his words, but currently my eyes were trained on one of his loaded-up shells of utter goodness, and I had to have it. It was decorated so much better than mine. Time to usehockeyto my advantage. “By the way, I took a look at my credit card statement, and you spent the most money on puzzles—a thousand dollars, Maya. You could have bought literally anything else,” he chuckled.
Puzzles yeah…
“Why did he go to the penalty box?” I asked in a quick attempt to snag the taco and change the subject.
“High sticking. Those guys are known for playing dirty when they are down a couple goals...” he trailed on, and my hand moved quickly to swipe the piece of food and shove it in my mouth, but I wasn't as sneaky as I thought. When he turned around and laughed at my pitiful attempt at hiding a full mouth, the serious yet playful glare caused me to smile back, revealing the evidence. “Really, woman, just ask next time. There's more than enough.” I swallowed the almost intact food as it slid down my throat thickly.
“Maya.”
“Hmm,” I answered, grabbing at the napkin next to me.
“There is no food insecurity here. You eat as much as you want when you want, okay? Peppermint sticks aren't a food group,” he said, concern thick in his voice.
I nodded, smiling widely. Now might be a good time to discuss the matters that happened. I never really gave him a safe word. “I understand. Oh, I also wanted to let you know, waffle is my safe word, and no belts, ever. Belts are a hard limit.”
The TV went mute, and he smiled proudly, turning to me. “Now we’re getting somewhere, Freckles. No belts. How do you feel about impact play otherwise?”
I tapped my finger against my chin in thought. Uncertainty clouded my vision for a moment, but Riley sat patiently, waiting for me to answer. It was so much more than most to think about, but my safety would be in Riley’s hands. I trusted him; he wouldn’t go too far, but part of me wanted to see what places he was willing to go and what I could take. “It depends; do I get a woah slow down, but like…not asking for a complete stop?”
“Yes, always, although I’d prefer you use something that’s not a food for a safe word. I need something unique because I go to a different place as well,” he said nonchalantly, taking a bite from his half-eaten taco.
“So stubborn, why?” I questioned.
“Because I plan on chasing you through those woods behind the house once you are ready, and it’s hard to be semi-serious when your prey is yelling waffle.” His seductive eyes glazed over my body, which I found funny considering I had taco sauce over my chest and spilling down my shirt. I couldn’t help but laugh that he found me attractive this way.
“Point taken, hold.” I huffed. “Okay. Okay, What about Angel? I am the only one who calls you Riley, right? It’s recognizable from a voice it wouldn’t normally come from.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased. “That’ll work. Now, I have a question for you.” His fingers drummed anxiously on the table, his knee matching the rhythm. Whatever he had to ask, it was causing him some sort of stress, and I could feel my own setting in at the unknown. It was almost as if our energy was connected somehow, feeding off one another’s insecurities. “So, the guys talked coach into a family day-skate thing on Sunday at the arena, then some drinks at the bar once the night sets in. Would you, maybe, be interested in going?”
You could tell he didn't do this often, and I giggled at big, bad Riley Kingston as he attempted to ask me on a date. I grabbed his chin, pulling him toward my body, and planting a heated, yet slow, kiss on his lips. Nice and slow was tender and playful sometimes too, and I used that to my advantage, earning a groan from him as I gave him a slow, burning kiss.
I reluctantly pulled away, leaving him wanting more as I answered the burning question. “I’d love to.”
