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I see Coach look our way before shaking his head, hands on his hips before turning back to smile warmly at his daughter, guiding her to the seat next to him. With one quick glance at me, she sits beside him and disappears out of view, leaving me to spend the next three hours desperate to get off this plane so I can touch her again.
* * *
We won,and as amazing as it felt to bring home the win… it feels like nothing when I think about how good it felt to have my girl in the stands during the game, wearing an Avalanches jersey and screaming at the top of her lungs.
My eyes found hers every time I looked up from the ice to the stands, and that sweet-as-fuck, secret smile she gave me made me want to walk right off the ice, take her into my arms, and kiss the fuck out of her in front of thirty thousand people without a care in the goddamn world.
“Fuck yes, that’s what the hell I’m talking about, Rome!” Grant, our right wing, claps me on the back in the locker room once we’ve changed back into our suits.
We’re staying overnight in Atlanta, then will head out to Denver tomorrow. And while most of the team will be going out tonight to celebrate, there’s only one way I’m going to be celebrating, and it’s between my Bubblegum’s thighs.
I’m a pussy guy, and I have no fucking problem admitting that.
“Thanks, man,” I smirk, tossing the damp towel I used to dry my hair into the bin by the door.
“You coming out with us tonight?” he asks, eyebrows raised.
I shake my head. “Nah. Had a late night last night, and I’m beat. Gonna get some sleep.”
“You never come out with us anymore, man. You’re always tired, always hanging back when we go to the bar. What’s up?”
I steel my jaw, knowing that he’s only asking because I really have changed over the last year, and it’s not his fault for calling it out. Bars, going home with different women every night… that shit doesn’t do it for me anymore, and it hasn’t for a while.
Even before Caroline.
But now that I have her?
I can’t see anything else but her. After a long day, she’s the person I want waiting for me at home. The one I crawl into bed and wrap my arms around, telling about my day. The one I want to celebrate my wins with and even lament the losses with too.
Shrugging, I hoist my bag up on my shoulder. “Not really my scene anymore, I guess. Trying to keep to myself and stay out of the media.”
Mostly the truth, minus the part where I’m falling for our coach’s daughter. And when he finds out, my entire career is going to go up in literal flames. Not to mention… if the media gets wind of our relationship, they’ll spin it as something it’s not, like I’m creeping on my coach’s college-aged daughter.
Grant nods, his shoulders dipping slightly. “I can respect that. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Shoot me a text.”
“Sounds good. Have fun.”
With that, I walk out of the locker room, fishing my phone from my pocket to pull up my messages, seeing three unread from Caroline.
Caroline: I’m convinced there is nothing sexier than seeing you on the ice. I’ve been wet all night and it’s entirely your fault.
Another one a few minutes later.
Caroline: Congratulations, Romeo. Let’s celebrate with me on my knees.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I chuckle, scrolling to the next one, trying not to get a hard-on as I walk to the hotel shuttle.
Caroline: I can’t wait to see you.
I quickly text her back.
Hudson: Hey Bubblegum. On the way to the hotel. I can’t wait to fuck your throat, and watch you swallow my cum.
She must have had her phone in hand because I see the response bubble moving along the screen, and then her message comes through.
Caroline: What’s your room number? I’ll be waiting on you.
I start to type it out, and then I remember.
