Page 70 of Goal Line
My hands move to my breasts, smoothing over them with the silky conditioner, and I pinch my nipples hard, trying to mimic the way it felt last night when Luke’s teeth were grazing them. It’s not enough. So I rinse one hand off and slide it down my body, finding my clit where it throbs.That’s right,you can take care of yourself,I remind myself as I circle my clit with just the right amount of pressure. But I can’t stop my brain from imagining it’s Luke’s tongue.
Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against the tile wall of the shower and continue pleasuring myself as memories of last night flash through my mind. I need more, though, and I’m frustrated by the emptiness I feel inside me.I need Luke.
No, I tell myself,you just need your sex toy collection—the oneyou threw in the fucking trash after that embarrassing moment in LA.
Though now, seeing how willing Luke is to provide orgasms when I need them, I wish I’d just whipped that vibrator out of the box and asked him to use it on me. That could have saved my entire collection!
And that’s when I remember that my favorite toy is actually at my parents’ house, tucked away in my suitcase in the closet of my childhood bedroom. The suitcase I was supposed to pack and bring back here last night, but then my mom made a comment about my weight and we left early.
I stand frozen in the shower, all traces of the sexual energy draining from my body as I remember the way my mom looked at me like I was a disappointment and said “...you’re going to gain enough weight being pregnant.”
My hands meet over the growing curve of my belly. It’s getting noticeable now—I can still disguise it with empire waist dresses like I was wearing yesterday, but I suspect that in another week, nothing will hide the fact that I’m pregnant.
And then my mind is spinning, thinking about how Christopher will be arriving tomorrow, and we start practicing the day after, and suddenly, orgasms from Luke are the furthest thing from my mind.
All I’m thinking about is the baby and skating, and how I’ll manage both things. And right then and there, with the hot water raining down on me, I make this baby a promise.
I promise to listen, to understand, to love—that no matter what this child’s dreams are, I’ll stand by in a supportive role, never demanding more than they’re willing to give or demeaning them if they don’t achieve them. And mostimportantly, I willmake suremy child knows that my love isn’t conditional, that no matter what, I will always love them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LUKE
“You know this is goalie practice, right?” I say to Zach Reid when he picks his helmet up off the bench. I squirt more water through my mask, letting it spray my face and wash some of the sweat away, before aiming for my mouth again.
“You know someone needs to take shots at you, right?” he replies, then busies himself fastening his chin strap.
“You better be able to block a defenseman’s shots, Lover Boy,” Colt says from where he sits next to Zach, with one leg sticking straight out to accommodate his knee brace. He’s only got another week in this huge brace before he can switch to a smaller one, but I can tell he’s over all of this. He wants back on the ice, and is frustrated that he’s riding the bench, even though it’s only for practice.
“You realize he’s one of the highest scoring defenders in the league, right?” I say. Sometimes, I’m surprised Zach’s not a winger—he’s got the explosive energy and speed, combinedwith excellent fake-out skills, that have led to a surprising number of goals for him this year.
I don’t think he was a big scorer during the seasons he played for Philly, but this year in Boston, he’s upped his game. Hockey pundits call that the “Wilcott Effect,” and they’re not wrong. Charlie has the exceptional ability to push his players in just the right way, getting them to perform beyond what they’ve accomplished before.
Our team captain, Ronan McCabe, is one of the players always cited as an example. He had a rocky final year when he played for St. Louis and a rough transition to Boston eight years ago, but when AJ hired Charlie as the head coach six years ago, McCabe turned into an all-star player.
“Whatever,” Colt grumbles. “Just unfuck yourself, okay.”
I turn my head, my lips parted in surprise. Colt has been a really great mentor for the few months we’ve played together since I was traded, so I’m not used to this type of comment from him.
“Are you pissed about my game, or about your injury?”
“I’m pissed that of all the times something shitty like that could have happened to me, it had to be in Game 7. And I’m pissed now that I know the reason you were so distracted that night was over a girl.”
“About that...” I say. I hadn’t really been planning to tell them today, but there’s no real reason to wait—especially when part of the purpose of our marriage story was to explain my performance. “Eva’s pregnant.”
“The fuck?” Colt says.
At the same time, Zach says, “Congrats, man. And to think you were trying to convince us all that you were ‘justfriends.’ Now you come back from Vegas marriedandexpecting a kid?”
“Yeah, well, her being rushed to the hospital right before we walked out onto the ice for Game 7, and me not knowing if she and the baby were okay or not...it definitely had me distracted. And that’s on me. But it also put some things into perspective.”
“What kind of things?” Colt asks, but I can tell from his face that he’s picturing what he would have felt like if it had been Jules.
“Having to imagine a worst-case scenario made me realize that I didn’t want to wait another second to marry her.” As I say it, I realize how true it is. The terror I felt at the possibility of something happening to her and my inability to think about anythingbuther...even though I couldn’t admit it to myself then, that had to be a sign that I wanted forever with her.
“Is that why you got married in Vegas?” Zach asks.
“Yeah, we thought it would be easier to tell our parents about the baby if we were already married.”
