Page 42 of Hockey Halloween
I wait a second, not wanting to scare her, and in that moment, I let my eyes wander over her body—a body I’m now intimately familiar with.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she blurts, catching sight of me as her fake plastic knife clatters to the ground.
It takes a second for her to put the pieces together, to fully calculate that the mummy who just gave her a knee-shaking orgasm is not only standing in her driveway.
He owns the driveway.
Val peels the mask away from her face, the made-up scars doing nothing to conceal her innate beauty. Now that I’m looking at her—really looking at her—I can’t believe I didn’t see it when she first approached my table at the bar.
“No. Oh my freaking god. Tell me this is not happening right now. You…you were trick-or-treating with Reese, right? You just happen to be wearing a full-body mummy costume because they are wildly popular this year, right?”
“Reese is with my folks tonight,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Jared and I went to a bar near Bellfield. It’s called Kirby’s. They had a costume contest.”
Val’s standing frozen in front of me, and I don’t know what to do. I should apologize for just leaving her there at the edge of the dance floor. I want to wrap her up in my arms because, dammit, they feel empty without her. And part of me wants to lead her to myside of the house, take her upstairs, and treat her the way she deserves. And that means stretching out, taking my damn time, and worshipping every inch of her.
But Val still hasn’t moved from her spot in the driveway. And when she finally gets her bearings, her words stop me cold. “We can’t ever mention what happened tonight. We need to completely wipe it from our brains. I don’t want to talk about it or think about it, ok? We were two consenting adults who had a good time—a great time—in a bathroom at a bar, but that was clearly a parallel universe, and we have both safely returned to this one where you are not a sexy stranger in a bar. You are, in fact, my landlord and my neighbor. That calls for a complete code of silence. Agreed?”
When I hesitate, she starts talking again.
“What we did was crazy. Reckless. Impulsive. Completely out of character. It’s not who we are, and?—”
“It’s not—” I begin.
“Exactly. That’s why we are agreeing to wipe it from our minds and go right back to being friends. Well, neighbors. Friendly neighbors. One of whom is the other one’s landlord. And colleague. This could get so awkward so quickly and?—”
The note of panic in her voice erases any doubt I’m harboring. Of course she’s worried. I’m the one who can leverage power in this situation, not that I would. But she doesn’t know that. She’s a tenant who deserves a safe, comfortable place to live. And a colleague who deserves to come to work without wondering if the hockey coach is going to be standing in line at the coffee shop thinking about what she looks like in the throes of orgasm.
Of course,” I say without any more hesitation. “Wiping it from my memory as we speak. Have a good night, Valerie.” She nods and eats the yard up with her steps. When she’s safely inside her half of the house, I lock my car and head into my place.
Since Reese isn’t here and my parents won’t bring her back until mid-afternoon tomorrow, I should be able to relax and sleep in. But relaxation isn’t possible. I lie in bed, knowing that Val’s about twenty feet away. And yet, I also know she made the right call. What did I think was going to happen? That she’d want to date me? She’s tenyears younger than I am. And sure, she’s great with Reese, but that doesn’t mean she wants an instant family. Afterall, Reese’s mom didn’t even want the whole motherhood-and-family thing, and we were married. The stress of child rearing was too much for Casey, and Reese and I have done just fine on our own. Who’s to say Val is even sticking around Bainbridge? Word on campus is that she’s exactly the PR manager the school needed. Everybody loves her, so there’s not a doubt in my mind that she’ll get a better offer in the next year and move on.
As she should. She’s free to do whatever she wants, and so am I because we wiped away our memories of tonight.
If only it were that simple.
Val
Avoiding Josh hasn’t been easy. We work at the same college, and while there are hundreds of employees, I catch sight of him nearly everywhere I go. To make matters worse, when I come home in the evening after a long day at work, he’s there, being the world’s best dad to his adorable daughter.
Since fall is officially here and the weather has turned colder, they don’t linger outside quite as much as they used to, but on nights like tonight, when the sun is dipping in the sky and he’s got a fire going in the firepit that’s in the middle of our shared yard, he’s impossible to ignore.
“Miss Val, come look at my hair!” Reese’s request is impossible to resist, so after setting my bag inside the door and letting Kevin out on his leash, I walk over to the fire pit to see what hairstyle my sweet little neighbor is sporting today.
“Your pigtails are adorable as always,” I say, flouncing her dark brown strands.
“But they’re the same as always,” she says, crossing her arms and scowling. Hair is serious business, and I’ll never say otherwise, but it’s hard to keep a straight face around this girl.
“In my defense,” Josh says, putting his hands up, “bubble braidsare harder than they look. And my fingers are too thick for those little plastic bands.”
The air around us goes still as Josh’s words register. Reese is oblivious, of course, and Josh just clears his throat while I take a trip down Filthy Memory Avenue and recall just how thick his fingers are.
“Yeah, well, you are in luck, Miss Reese, because I happen to be a bubble braid champion. The next time you need them, you just let me know.” I smile broadly and I’m about to unclip Kevin’s leash and duck inside, but without missing a beat, Reese produces a hairbrush and a container of elastics.
“Can you do them now?” she asks.
I could tell her I have to make dinner, or that Kevin needs a walk, but I’m not about to lie. Besides, doing Reese’s hair won’t take long and it will make her happy, so when she scoots down on the bench, I slide in behind her, saddle-style. Reese chatters on about her day, telling me all about her teacher and the class leopard gecko, and the new backpack her best friend has. I listen and style her hair, positioning the small elastic ponytail holders in even increments and puffing out just enough hair to achieve the desired effect. I won’t get hired at a salon anytime soon, but for a backyard hairdresser, I do just fine.
I’m halfway through the second pigtail when I chance a glance at Josh. His eyes are fixed on me, and at first, I’m sure he’s studying my technique so when Reese wants this same hairstyle tomorrow, he can do his best to replicate it. But when my eyes meet his, he looks away, his cheeks pink like he’s been caught staring. Things have been a little awkward since Saturday night, but we’re adults and we can rise above it. I mean, he’s had his mouth on my boobs and his fingers inside of me. So not a big deal, right?
