Page 13 of Power Play
When we got to the cabin, I ran inside and barely made it into a bathroom before I had my hand down my pants, panting, and relieving the ache Jonesy's driving had given me. Then Tracey spilled wine on me, before Jonesy tried to make me jealous. The thing, though? Is that Iwasjealous. For half a heartbeat, I was jealous. Maybe not of Jonesy directly? But the Titans were my thing. This job was my thing. These hockey players were mine to take care of.
And I was starting to like Jonesy. I've seen how he is around the other hockey players, but he'd be nice to me that day on the roof. He helped me when he didn't even know me and shared his private space with me. It was selfless. And the way he just let me work through my stuff and sat with my in silence. He didn't try to fix my problem or fix me. He just sat with me, told me to breathe, and allowed me to takeup space. To take up space in his private safety net. It had meant more to me than he knows.
And yeah, maybe I thought he might have had a crush on me. And the idea made me feel good to be wanted, appreciated.
So maybe it stung a little and took the wind from my sails when he turned out to be just like every other guy in my life.
Except Ben.
The highly tuned part of my psyche that's focused on self-preservation shut down every emotion before it could even fully develop. I went into my "robot mode" as Ben likes to call it. He's seen it enough to recognize it, and the sweetheart that he is always gets pissed off on my behalf.
I contemplate ignoring the person outside my door, but they tap again.
"Yes?" I whisper to the closed door. Luckily, there are enough rooms here, the women all got individual rooms while the boys, minus Jonesy, share a large rec room with bunk beds.
"Lace, it's me," Ben's quiet voice sounds as he opens the door.
I slump back against my bed and stare at the ceiling. If I'm honest, I haven't gotten much sleep at all this week. I knew there was a risk I would end up working for Ben's team, but the wave of emotions it's brought me were completely unexpected. It might have been eight years, but I never truly stopped loving him. Even when I'd been with other men, convinced I'd never see Ben again, I knew he still had my heart. I think you always have a soft spot for your first. Or... at least your first when it's with someone as amazing as him.
But now? Now what am I supposed to do with him? I'm fucking terrified, if I'm honest with myself. I'm terrified of what will happenif we get back together. I'm terrified of what will happen if we don't. Will I have to watch puck bunnies throw themselves at him? Will I have to follow the Titans' Instagram and see him out on dates with beautiful, famous women? What if he wants to pick back up where we left off in high school? What if he doesn't?
I feel tears pinprick behind my eyelids. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. Maybe I should apply with a different team.
The bed dips next me to as Ben kneels on it.
"Hey, baby," he whispers, his low, cool voice feels like a balm across my harried brain.
"Hey," I give back, sheepishly, shyly, sadly. I want to be the B and L we were in high school. Best friends. Lovers. The naive, inexperienced kids. When everything was simpler, and we still had stars in our eyes.
"How are you feeling?"
Ben slips his hand underneath my shirt but rests it on my stomach. It's a comforting move he used often back then. The need for non-sexual skin on skin contact was strong for us both. We would often spend hours, just like we are now, talking about our dreams for the future. We made sure we always focused on the positive and never talked about the negative in our lives.
"How... are you?" I will my voice not to crack but it doesn't listen. This is the first real one-on-one time we've had together were we can be completely open, vulnerable - connect on a level we haven't in forever - one I'm not sure I want.
"Better now," Ben whispers, bringing his face to the crook where my neck meets my shoulder.
"B..." I groan. My voice is strangled. Need warring with fear. Desperation warring with indecision. I want him. I always want him. But I know it's a bad idea.
"Lay," his nickname for me. "I get it. You don't want anything serious. You don't want to get involved. You've got a new job in a new city and a new team to worry about," he says, his lips seductively moving against my shoulder, my collarbone, my neck.
"I understand and respect that. What I'm asking for is a few minutes to make you feel better. To make you forget all the bullshit. Tomorrow we can go back to being coworkers with zero expectations... " he pauses, and I know he's about to say something I won't like. "But I know this weekend has been a lot for you..."He presses his hard, heavy erection against my hip. "I just want to help get you out of your own head for a bit."
In an instant I remember the taste of him. The feel of him. The kisses. The sex. Does he have sex the same way he did in high school? Or has his tastes grown... more eclectic? Will I enjoy it? Or will it hurt me to know he's not the same man anymore?
Shame washes over me. He's not my B anymore. He's Ben Kowalski, who plays professional hockey for the North Carolina Titans and fucks bunnies whenever he wants. Of course he'll be different.
But then so am I. I'm not L from Pinebrook whose only been with one man and is afraid of her own shadow. I'm Lacey Bennett. I can have sex with a man and not fall in love with him. I trust Ben. We'll have sex tonight, and tomorrow we'll go back to being professional friends. I'm not hurting him. He said so himself. And I really, really want to get out of my own head.
I reach down and cup his erection through his workout pants.
"I can't promise you anything..." I whisper as I turn my head towards his, his familiar pink lips an inch from mine.
"I know, baby. I'll get you out of your head for tonight, make you feel good, and we'll figure out tomorrow, tomorrow. I have zero expectations. I won't even spend the night."
A part of me doubts him. This is B. He's loved me. And I've loved him. But maybe it's different for him now. Maybe he doesn't love me as much.
Oh, fuck it. I'm tired of my own brain. And I trust him. He's never made me feel anything but safe and protected.
