Chapter Nine

Matthew

I’m walking down the corridor right after skate practice, holding two cups of coffee. It’s been four hours since I’ve been up and gone and I’m wondering if Karrie will even be in her room.

Last night’s kiss played in my mind all night long. After she walked in her bathroom, I undressed and decided I’d wait to get another goodnight kiss in her bed. I wasn’t counting on crashing. My body just gave up and sleep took over. I felt her come to bed, felt the covers move, felt the bed dip, my eyes opening just for a second to get her near me. As soon as my body hugged hers, I fell back into a slumber. In fact, I hadn't slept that good in forever.

Then waking up and peeking over at her, her mouth was slightly open while soft snores came out of her. I was almost tempted to yank her into me, but I didn’t know how she would react to the whole I was in your bed last night. So I slowly climbed out of bed, my cock under protest since he felt her ass wiggle right before I moved away from her. Walking into my bathroom in my room, I took a shower and also took care of business in the name of a raging hard-on. Fuck.

Getting out and drying off, I walked to my bag with the towel around my waist. A look into her room showed me she’d turned over and that she was still sleeping. I grabbed my things for the gym and made my way downstairs for breakfast with Phil and then my first team practice.

Now here I am walking into my room, my eyes automatically going to hers. I see her sitting in bed dressed in jeans and a top, a book in her hand.

“Hey, babe,” I say, walking in, handing her one of the coffees.

“Um, hey.” She reaches for the cup while I go to the other side of the bed and sit down.

I kick off my shoes, looking at her. She has no makeup on today. Her feet are still bare, her toenails painted a light pink.

“What time did you get up?” I ask her while she takes a sip of her coffee.

“Um, about that, I think we should discuss what happened last night,” she says, putting the coffee on the side table next to her.

My eyebrows pinch together.

“I think we got out of hand with the whole kiss thing. It was an emotional night for you and we got swept away in the moment.”

“Swept away in the moment?” I ask, confused. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Listen, I have a job here and I don’t want to be known as another conquest, so from now on—” I cut her off, raising my hand.

“From now on when I want to kiss you, I’ll wait till we are in private.” I nod at her. “I don’t want them to think this thing with us is just because of who your father is.”

Her body goes straight up stiff while she faces me. “Perhaps you didn’t understand. There will be no more kissing.” She tries to get off the bed, but my hand grabs her wrist before she can and then she turns to glare at me.

“And no more sleepovers. You get your bed. I get mine.” That’s the last thing she says because the next thing that happens is she is on her back and I’m on top of her. Her crystal blue eyes are a dark, cloudy blue.

“Babe, there’s going to be more than sleepovers. I’m going to be in your bed. In a hotel or at home.” I lean down to kiss her lips before she can argue with me, wanting to go slow, but I can’t. The minute I taste her, I can’t stop. Her legs open, wrapping around my waist, locking at the ankle. I rest my weight on my elbows so I don’t squash her. My tongue twirls with hers. Her hands now go through my hair, then she arches her back up, rubbing her pussy against my cock, which is straining.

Once I know I’ve kissed her silly, I slowly peel my lips from hers, kissing the side of her mouth, to her chin, to her neck, up to nip at her ear. “Now that I’ve got you breathless, I want you to listen.” I run soft kisses on her chin. “You listening?” I ask her.

She nods.

“This, me, you. It’s happening. I’m going to kiss you,” I tell her, running my tongue out while I kiss her neck. “I’m going to come home and come to your bed. Or you can come to mine, but”—I kiss her lips again—“make no mistake about it. This thing is happening.” The blue in her eyes becomes clear again.

“Matthew”—her hands rub my back—“we can’t do this.” Her voice is soft. “Can you imagine what they would say if they found out?”

“So we keep it quiet till we decide to tell people. Tell me you get that this is happening.”

“Matthew,” she groans out.

“Babe.” I stop her. “I need a nap,” I tell her, rolling to my side and taking her with me.

“Ma—”

I put my hand to her lips. “Shh. Let’s rest. Yeah.” And I close my eyes, pretending I’m going to sleep, but knowing she’s glaring at me with death in her eyes. Opening one eye, I spot the look I thought she had on. Yup, dead.

“You’re beautiful.” Is the last thing I say before I close my eyes again. We both fall into a nap.

I’m about to put my suit jacket on when my phone rings beside the sink. I’m in my bathroom because all my stuff is here, but next time, I laugh to myself, thinking she’s going to throw my shit out. I’m pretty sure. When I see it’s my mom I answer right away.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, packing up my stuff since we are going straight home from the game.

“Hey, sweetheart, you did so good,” she tells me, and I can hear the smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’m actually feeling really, really good.”

“You played a really good game last night. You ready for tonight?”

I throw my stuff in my bag, zipping it up. “Yeah, I had practice with the guys today. I like the team, like the dynamic. I’m just happy to have the chance.”

“That sounds so promising.” I hear her voice go off.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t want to get involved and Cooper told me to mind my business, but your father called me.”

I stop what I’m doing and look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes. I haven’t spoken to my father in five years. The minute Mom had Zoe and Zara, he upped himself and moved out of state. The daily phone calls went to weekly, to bi-weekly, to monthly, to just a fucking text on my birthday. I won’t even go into the shit he pulled before Mom and him got divorced. He was never really there anyway. Where all my friends would go to the rink with their dads, mine would be working. Traveling. I can count on my hand the amount of times he actually got off his ass and took me to practice.

My mother, that was who raised me. That was who gave up everything for me and Allison. Till Cooper came, then he showed me what it was to actually have a family. To actually come home to a family who did things together and that didn’t just co-exist.

“He said he texted you a couple of times,” she says softly.

“A text, seriously?” I shake my head. “When I got sent down to the minors, he sent me a text with one word ‘nice,’” I tell her, something she didn’t know because I didn’t want to make her go and kick his ass.

“I didn’t know,” she says quietly.

“Because he’s a douchebag. When’s the last time he actually picked up the phone and called Allison?” I ask her, my voice getting louder. “When is the last time he actually took time out of his day for his children?” I slam my suitcase shut. “I can tell you, a long fucking time ago. I think I was maybe ten. He has no right to involve you in this shit. But you know what?” I laugh to myself. “That’s just the type of person he is. Notice I didn’t say man, Mom, because he isn’t.”

“I promise to never bring it up.”

I nod, knowing Cooper will be hearing about this. The minute my mother feels sad, or her mood changes, it’s like he knows. It’s like he senses it, which is how strong their bond is. I look up and I’m shocked that Karrie is standing there in the doorway. She stares at me with confusion in her eyes, sadness, and most of all worry. This woman who I met two days ago has embedded herself in me and I have no idea how I lived without her.

“Mom, I got to go. The bus is leaving in ten minutes. Kiss the kids for me and smack Allison upside the head. Tell her I saw her stupid Instagram post and to delete it or else.” I hang up, knowing that my mother is laughing and calling Allison right away.

“Is everything okay?” she asks from the side of the door. She is standing there with her tight blue jeans, a beige jacket, some scarf thing around her neck, and brown high heel boots. I toss my phone on the bed, looking back at her.

“It’s”—I look back at my bag then up at her again—“it’s nothing.” I shake my head. “Come give me a kiss.”

She stands there, her stance going from worried about me to pissed while she crosses her arms across her chest, cocking her hip out. “No.” She shakes her head.

“Babe.” I start to walk to her when she holds out her hand.

“Don’t come near me, Matthew Grant.” She steps back. “You come all in my face”—she waves her hands in the air—“and I forget things, like how I don’t like you.” She closes the door to her side of the room.

I knock on the door, whispering, “Karrie, I need a kiss good luck.”

“No,” she says from her side of the door.

“Please,” I say smiling, hoping it’s winning her over.

The doorknob turns, opening the door. “No kissing,” she says through the small crack.

I wait for the door to open more.

“I have lipstick, and I’ve just applied it. And I don’t want—”

And that’s all I let her say before pushing the door open and grabbing her face.

“I don’t care.” My lips land on hers. My tongue invades hers as her hands go to my hips. My tongue twirls with hers, her strawberry lip gloss now transferred to mine. My hands never leave her cheeks.

I let go of the kiss, leaning back while her eyes slowly blink open. “See, wasn’t that easy?” I say while her nails dig into my hips, making me laugh.

She lets go, letting my hands fall to my sides. Going to her bag, she opens it up, grabbing what looks like wet ones.

“Here”—she hands me one—“clean your face so you don’t have any glitter or shine.”

I take it from her, wiping my face. “Do I have any more?” I ask her.

She walks up to me, taking the rag from me and cleaning me again.

“I still don’t like you,” she says, while I try not to smile. “Just so you know.” She finishes and turns around, throwing the towelette into the garbage. “Now let’s go so we don’t miss the bus.” She zips everything up, walking to the door. “Don’t follow me.” She points to the door. “Go out there so people don’t suspect anything.”

“No one is going to suspect anything,” I tell her, going to my room, grabbing my stuff, and walking out of my room. I meet five of my teammates when I walk out. I say hello to everyone, my eyes landing on Karrie, who is standing there with an ‘I told you so’ look.

I can’t really say anything to her because for once she’s right. Okay, maybe more than once, but I won’t ever tell her that.