Page 35 of Hat Trick
He moans. "Fuck, that feels good."
"Now who sounds like a porn star?"
"What do you know about porn, Miss Emily Jones?" He peaks one eye open to look at my reaction.
I give a half-hearted shrug. "Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."
"Fuck, that's hot."
A smile spreads across his handsome face. His eyes are closed, so I enjoy being able to opening stare at him. He really is incredibly handsome.
"Are we adding bather to my list of duties, too? Bathtime buddy? Head massager?" I tease.
"I've got a head you can massage." He snaps back before wincing. "Sorry, locker room humor."
"Walked right into that one." I reply sarcastically.
I tug his head down to dip it under the water and keep up my massage. For all our teasing, I want him to feel good. I want him to forget about his responsibilities, the stress that he's under daily. I want this bathroom, this moment, to be the only thing he's thinking about. When we go to bed or wake up tomorrow, he can worry about things again. But tonight, right now, I want to make this good for him.
Chapter nineteen
Gabe
It's a rare Saturday night off, but we're all too tired to go out. It happens every season. We start the new season with energy and excitement, ready to take on the world. Then eventually the grueling schedule, the hours on the ice and in training, and we hit a point where we're physically and mentally exhausted. By the end of the season we're wondering why in the world we still play, but during the off season we want nothing more than to get right back out there. I chuckle to myself. It's an unhealthy relationship for sure.
Carter and Luca play Mario cart on the TV after Carter and Emily put Annie to bed. I'm on the floor, rolling out my sore muscles. Emily pads silently behind the couch, leaning over just enough to remove the empty beer bottles from the coffee table before heading to the kitchen and getting the boys new ones. I like that about her. Being helpful is her default setting, she doesn't think twice about it. She sees an empty, she replaces it. She sees dirty laundry, she takes care of it. She's never looking to see what she can gain in any moment, simply giving. To a fault.
Luca and Carter don't even look up from their game before tossing 'thanks' at her like an afterthought. I want to punch both of them and tell them to be more grateful, but then Emily's kneeling next to me on the floor.
"Can I help?"
"Help me...roll out my muscles?"
"Yeah, it's easier if you just lay down and let me." I give her a skeptical look but let her take the roller from me. "I used to do it for my brother all the time." Ah right, her hockey playing brother.
I give in with a shrug and lay on the floor on my stomach so I can watch Mario cart.
She takes the roller and starts massaging my calves. It hurts so good, but I am grateful that I can relax while she does it. She's not a physical therapist, but lactic acid is lactic acid, and sore muscles are sore muscles.
I take the rare moment 'alone' with her to get to know more about her. We're not technically alone, but with the other two gaming and talking shit, we might as well be. And I'm addicted to all things Emily. I've learned to trust her, and I know her heart, but I don't know her past, her goals, and selfishly, I want to know if she envisions a future where we can be together.
"Why kids?"
"Hm?"
"Why did you get into child care? Your degree?"
I feel more than see her shrug. "Children deserve to be cared for, to be loved." I twirl my finger in a 'continue' motion.
She sighs deep and long. "My mom left when Sammy and I were young. I couldn't understand it at the time. I didn't understand why the one person who was supposed to love me unconditionally didn't...couldn't." My heart aches painfully when I think of a younger, sad, scared Emily.
"Kids don't ask to be brought into this world. And I know some kids are accidents, but every kid deserves to be loved, to be nurtured. Look at Carter. He didn't even know Annie existed, but he's loved her sinceday one. It really fucked me up. I spent years in therapy, trying to understand that her leaving wasn't because of something I did, or that I wasn't good enough." I can hear the sadness in her voice. She still doesn't think she's good enough. Her mother leaving, her shithead of an ex. She's only ever been shown her entire life that she isn't good enough. Rage starts to build deep in my stomach until she speaks again.
"I was good...for awhile there...until I got drunk in college one night and found her on social media. She's remarried, to a guy who already had kids. Then I spiraled again, wondering what about his kids was so much better than me. Why she could stay for them, but not us." Fuck, I hate this. Her voice is so small, so sad. I can't fucking stand it. But Emily's strong. There's got to be more to the story.
"So you went back to therapy?"
"Yeah, it helped for a little while."
