Page 59 of Pay the Piper

“We’re going to need a bigger fridge.”

Chapter 23

“If you bounce any more, I think you’re going to take flight.”

Thatcher is as excited as I’ve ever seen him, which is saying something. He’s thrilled to see Mila and ready to play the game he loves against someone other than his own team for the first time in months.

“I feel like I could take flight. I’m just so ready to see her, man. I hope she likes it.”

Poor guy. We’ve been over this at least a dozen times. When he told me he wanted to get a tattoo of Mila’s eyes on his forearm because he missed her so much, I took him the same night to my favorite tattoo artist in Thunder Bay. He’s been doing his best, but she’s going to have to wrap shit up in Russia soon, or I’m afraid he’ll totally lose his grip on reality. Tying off the laces on my skate, I sit up and put my arm around his shoulders.

“Thatcher. I promise you, she’s going to love it. I don’t think you realize how hard you’d have to try to upset her—”

“Tell that to my ass cheeks,” he mumbles, but I ignore his interruption.

“Truly upset her. She loves you. She grew the capacity to love specifically to love you. I’m not saying you won’t get a few spanks for being so sneaky—”

“One can only hope—”

“But she’s going to be feral when she sees it. I’m going to have to give you two a wide berth.”

The arrival of Gabri and Nikki to deliver their beginning-of-year speech silences his response, and even though this is just the first preseason game, it feels like the start of something. The schedule worked out perfectly, and we’re in New York playing Thatcher’s old team, the Phantoms. Mila was able to come back for a few nights, and she’ll be back again for the first real game of the season, which is back in Thunder Bay. Although I know she and Thatch will want plenty of alone time today after the game, I can’t wait to see my friend. Before, she was the missing piece of my soul, but now…it’s like I’ve made more room within myself for someone else to occupy my every atom. Abby. I haven’t really told Mila much about her yet. One, because how can someone describe the sun to someone who’s never seen it over a text or a quick phone call? And two, Mila’s been too busy for our normal rapid-fire correspondence, anyway.

Along with Abby, the men on this team have come to mean more to me than I could have ever expected. I’m not even a hockey player, but it’s impossible not to feel emotional about finally skating with these guys before a game. Between practices, philosophical discussions in the sauna, and the fact that everyone knows what I look like shimmying to a pop song, I feel true camaraderie with everyone in the organization.

“I’m damn proud to wear the same jersey as all of you and represent this city. Let’s go show everyone the kind of pain they’re in for all year when they come to Thunder Bay!”

With that, we file out of the locker room and take the ice for warm-ups. Even an hour ahead of puck drop, plenty of people are in the arena, including the home team’s friends and families who have come down to the ice to wish them good luck. At least a few of our team had family travel up to make a mini vacation out of the long weekend, including Bud, whose wife’s family lives here. Bud’s the oldest guy on the team, and I’ve lost count of how many kids he says he has. As tiny people swarm him near the bench, it’s obvious what he meant when he told me that it’s always easy for his wife to talk him into one more.

As the rest of the team breaks up into drills, I do my part: act like I’m meant to be there, stay out of the way, and keep an eye on Thatcher. As I glide around the ice, my mind wanders again to Abby. These days, she’s all I think about, and every second I’m not with her is magnified now that I know what life can be like. I can’t wait for Mila’s shit-eating grin when I have to tell her how right she was.

“Cocoa!”

Thatcher waves both arms in the air, as if I haven’t been watching him the entire warm-up, and I see him standing with Teddy near the bench. With a perfect pattern across the ice and only a little bit of a wobble as I stop, I see they’re with Teddy’s grandmother. She’s recently been in Thunder Bay visiting Teddy and Ellie, and I can tell by the glint in her eye that someone’s filled her in on my love life.

“Misha, you look taller every time I see you!”

“It’s the skates,” I joke, kissing both her cheeks. “Or maybe you’re just more petite than you give yourself credit for, Muriel.”

She slaps my chest as Teddy groans.

“Don’t flirt with my grandma, man. She already talks about how tall, dark, and handsome you are.”

“Hey, Grandma Dubs prefers blonds. Right?”

Thatcher’s tease and Teddy’s warning do nothing to slow Muriel down.

“I prefer whoever scores the most goals! Now, Thatcher, you remember what I told you last year about playing so roughly.”

“I know—”

“Do it more often, but don’t let the refs see you!”

After Muriel’s final advice to Thatcher, he had an excellent game, getting good minutes in and scoring two of the goals that helped the Rising Tide stomp the Phantoms 4-1. I didn’t sense a whiff of threat, though I did see some of our New York men in the stands, enjoying the game and keeping an eye on things. Once Thatcher saw Mila arrive two minutes into the first period, he was unstoppable, and as soon as we wrapped up in the locker room after the game, I released him into her protection and went out for a late lunch with Teddy, Muriel, Bud’s family, and some of the other guys. By the time I made it back to the compound, I had a text from Mila asking me to come to the living room of her suite.

With her based in Russia for now, the design team finally removed most of the red latex that had dominated this wing of the house. Now, her rooms are more the Mila I know, featuring dark jewel tones and modern florals. She’s sitting on the couch when I enter, fully dressed, although the same can’t be said for the man whose head is in her lap. Thatcher is sprawled and asleep, the blanket that’s loosely draped across him covering his dick but not his ass, which has clearly seen the attentions of my friend’s flogger this evening.

“Moya sila, I’m so happy to see you.” As I bend to kiss her cheek, she wraps her free arm around my shoulder and squeezes, as if she doesn’t want to let me go. Her other hand remains in Thatcher’s hair, and she shushes him as he grumbles with her movement. His new addition is proudly on display, and I can see the pride in her eyes as her gaze flicks to it for just a moment before settling back on me.