Page 56 of Hat Trick
That’sthe other problem.
?1 She’s notmygirl. Or is she? God, I don’t even fucking know any more. Ever since our date the other night, my thoughts have been all scrambled inside of my head. Which makes me feel like a complete and total asshole. Because I saw the way she looked at me that night, just like I saw the way she looked at us through the glass, the way I know she’s looking at us right now. The wayI knowEmerson’s looking at her. She’sourgirl.
Which is absolutely terrifying.
But the way she looked on top of me, the way her head tipped back in pleasure as she rode me and called out my name, in that moment, it didn’t feel terrifying at all. But as she drifted off to sleep in my arms, and in the days that followed, all the thoughts crept rightback in.
No matter how hard I try to keep my fears at bay, they’re always there, ready to bring me back to reality.
But I don’t want that to be my reality. I don’t want to be scared of wanting. And yet, no matter how desperate I am to let them go, I can’t quite seem to. All because of the one singular thought that’s haunted me for years.
Why bother loving anything at all when the higher you fly the further you fall?
And yes, I have loved—Idolove people. I love my mom and my teammates. Hell, I even love Emerson. But now the love I have for him is starting to feel all-consuming. Like he’s slowly becoming my reason for breathing. My reason for existing. Both of them are.
And I’m not sure if I can riskanyonebeing my reason. Because once that reason’s gone, I’ll be left with nothing.
Fuck, why does it suddenly feel like I can’t breathe?
Stopping my movements in the crease, I pull a mitt off and grab at my goalie mask, trying to get it away from my face even a fraction of an inch—tryingto breathe.
I don’t know how long I stand there like that before I hear the blow of a whistle, signaling for the teams to come in from warmups and get in line for the National Anthem. But I can’t move.
I can’t fucking breathe.
Suddenly, I feel hands clamp onto my pad-cladded shoulders. It takes me a moment to refocus my vision, but when I do, I see Emerson in front of me. His bright blue eyes bore into mine. He’s saying my name, I know he is. I can tell by the movement of his lips. But I can’thear him. The only thing I can hear is the sound of my own heartbeat.
That goes on for a moment, until I finally manage to hear him say, “Dom, Baby, just breathe,” barely loud enough for me to hear over the sound of the crowd.
To anyone else, I’m sure it just looks like we’re having ourselves our own little huddle, but apparently, I’m just having myself my own little panic attack.
But his words finally get me to suck in a breath.
“That’s it. Just like that. Deep breaths, Dom.” I do as he says, doing my best to breathe deep. “Good, Baby. Good.”
I take a few more breaths before my eyes dart over to the stands. No one is really paying attention to us, but she is. Even from here, I can see the small wrinkle between her brows as she furrows them in concern. Emerson’s eyes must follow mine because he grabs my helmet with one hand, bringing my focus back to him. “If it’s too much for you right now, just focus on me. Only on me.”
I don’t want it to be too much. I want her here.
But I can’t find a way to verbalize it all. At least not right now. It’s not the time. So I just shake my head in his hold.
Once he realizes I’m finally present, a soft smile pulls at his lips, and he drops the front of his helmet to mine. “Alright, let’s go kick some ass, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nod in agreement. Even though I’m suddenly feeling like the one who just got their ass kicked, and the game hasn’t even started yet.
1 WHY - Jon Bellion & Luke Combs
CHAPTER 35
SEX ON BLADES
LILIANA
Something weird is happening with Dom. And I don’t fucking like it. When I saw him there, frozen on the ice, all I wanted to do was break down this plexiglass barrier and go to him. But I couldn’t. I’m just thankful he had Emerson.
I can only hope that whatever was going on wasn’t because of me, but deep down in my gut, I know it was. Because even though I’ve never seen him play hockey until tonight, one thing I do know…nothingshakes Dominic Foster.
But before I could bring myself to get up and leave, to not be a distraction to him any longer, the center for each team was on whatever that middle line is called, the ref holding the puck between them. It was so quiet in this damn arena you could hear a pin drop. No, I take that back, you could hear the puck drop.
