Tyler
I stand to greet the man I’ve been anxiously waiting to meet for a long time. Chase Henderson, the center for the Dallas Stars hockey team. He’s one of the best centers Dallas has ever seen, and he has recently announced he will be retiring after the hockey season is over. He’s not usually one for interviews, but with his retirement looming, he’s made an exception for one interview but under one condition—that I’m the one to interview him.
Yes. Me. I know. Crazy, right?
I’ve no idea how I’m even on his radar, but it’s enough to blow my mind; that’s for sure.
It’s safe to say, I’m struggling not to let my inner geek shine, and I will admit, I’m seconds away from shitting myself.
“Chase Henderson, it’s an honor to meet you,” I say with bravado that surprises me as I hold my hand out to him.
He eagerly shakes my hand. “Tyler Bailey, the honor is all mine.”
“Really, or are you shitting me?” I say with a grin.
He takes the seat opposite me, smiling. “On my grandma’s grave. I read you religiously, dude. I’m genuinely a big fan of your work. Hence, why you’re the only one I want interviewing me.”
Holy shit.
I sit back down, laughing. “I know this isn’t a thing to admit, but I’m totally fanboying right now.”
He shrugs his shoulder. “I seem to have that effect on people, but what can I say? I’m fucking awesome.”
I give out a hearty chuckle before picking up my glass of water and taking a sip. Chase’s eyes follow my water with disdain.
“You allergic to beer or something?” he asks as I place my glass back down.
“Hell no, but since I’m technically on the job, I’ve got to keep the professionalism in place.”
“Fuck professionalism. You’re having a beer. I won’t have it any other way.”
He clicks his fingers, and a waiter comes bounding over before I even have a chance to argue. Not that I would because Chase fucking Henderson wants to have a beer with me.
“Can we have two bottles of Birra Moretti?” he tells the waiter before looking at me. “The best Italian beer I’ve ever tasted. Trust me.”
“My trust is all in your hands.” I’m usually a Corona man, but when the big guy orders his favorite Italian beer, I’m all for drinking it.
The waiter is back quicker than I can blink and sets two bottles down along with two ice-cold glasses. Neither of us bothers with the glasses, and we simply drink out of the bottle. He’s right; it’s the best Italian beer I’ve ever tasted.
“Well?”
I nod before taking another sip. “I’m converted,” I say honestly because, damn, it’s a good beer.
“I convert everyone. It’s my thing.” He takes another pull before placing the bottle down on the table. “So, I hope you brought your appetite tonight because the food here is just as good as the beer.”
“Yeah, I’ve been here quite a few times. I was pretty stoked you picked this place, as this was the restaurant where I proposed to my wife.” My chest clenches at the mere thought of Mia.
God, I fucking miss her.
His eyes widen with affection. “What’s your wife’s name?”
“It’s Mia.”
“She as big on sports as you?”
I’m the one who’s supposed to be interviewing him, and it keeps throwing me off that he seems genuinely interested in me.
“Not so much, but I love her anyway. My nephew though, he definitely takes after me. Anything that involves a ball or puck he loves.”
“How old is he?” Chase asks with a fond smile.
“He’s seven, going on seventeen.” I laugh, remembering the conversation I had with him this morning. Something to do with astronomy and how much dark energy there is. Honestly, most of it went over my head. “He’s super smart, too. He has more brains than I have in my little finger. He’s going to be a doctor or an astronaut when he grows up.”
“He sounds like a cool kid. He play any sports?”
I nod before taking another sip of my beer. “He plays soccer in the spring, and he’s on a fall football team for the rookie flag division. Seriously, he’s a kid who can do it all. I’m kind of envious of him.”
“You think he’d like some signed merch?” Chase asks.
I almost say, Does a bear shit in the woods?
Instead, I refrain and say, “God, yes, he would love that.”
“I’ll hook you up and have some stuff sent to your office during the week.”
We order food—or I should say a banquet, as Chase couldn’t decide between the chicken parmesan, braised beef contadina, or mushroom ravioli al forno, so he told the waiter to bring out everything on the main menu. Once the waiter disappears again, I decide to get down to business.
“So, I know interviews are not your thing, so I’m going to keep this as low-key as possible. It’ll be just like you’re out with one of your buds.”
He nods with approval as he drains the rest of his beer before flagging another waiter nearby and holding two fingers up, indicating two more beers.
“Are you trying to get me drunk while I’m on the job?” I laugh as I take out my iPhone from my pocket and place it down in the middle of the table.
“I promise I won’t rat you out to your boss,” he says with a sly grin.
I set up the app on my phone and hit Record. For the next hour, we eat and drink. Chase tells me all about how he started as a hockey player, his early career, and his reasons for retiring once the season is over.
“What’s next then? What are your plans after retirement?”
“First things first. I’m going to take a much-deserved vacation.” He laughs.
“Then, I’m going to focus more on my charity organization, The Chase Foundation. I’m going to get more involved with the kids and perhaps expand the foundation, so we can get more kids off the streets and help those who wouldn’t usually be given the opportunity or chance to play hockey. I didn’t have the greatest childhood. I had to witness some horrific things while growing up, but the one thing I always had was hockey, and I want to give more children a place they can come to, a place where they can escape the horrid realities that life throws at them and let them be kids for a little while. I never played hockey for the money. Hell, even if this wasn’t my job, I would have still found a way to play, but I’m lucky I’m able to do this and earn money that has changed my life forever. But I want my career to mean something that’s bigger than the size of my paycheck.”
This guy is just something else.
“I swear, you’ve just given me goose bumps.”
He grins. “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but in the words of Forrest Gump, I gotta pee,” he says as he stands up and walks in the direction of the restrooms.
I love this guy. If I were to pick a new best friend, it would most definitely be Chase.
I wonder if Matt would mind being demoted.
I sit back and allow my eyes to wander around my surroundings. My sight comes to a halt when I witness a guy bending down on one knee, holding out an engagement ring for his girlfriend. My chest clenches with reminiscence, and like a flash of lightning, it brings everything back. I find it impossible to tear my gaze away from them.
I smile when I think back to when I proposed to Mia. I was so nervous she was going to say no that every inch of my body was covered in sweat. I must have smelled fucking awful. Then, when she put me out of my misery and said yes, up until that point, I’d never been as happy.
I laugh quietly as the woman shouts out, “Yes,” before jumping into his arms.
As my eyes follow them, my heart leaps from out of my chest when I see Mia sitting at a table beside them.
Jesus, fuck, she’s beautiful.
I can’t see whom she’s with since the couple is blocking the entire table, but she seems completely enraptured by the couple, and the smile she’s wearing on her face takes my breath away.
I’ve missed her smile so much, and seeing it from across the restaurant is just like seeing it for the first time. My heart physically aches, her beauty enough to make it hard for me to breathe. The couple shifts, and my eyes automatically follow what they were originally blocking. Every muscle in my body clenches when I see some guy sitting across from Mia, a guy I’ve never met in my entire fucking life.
What the fuck?
Who the fuck is he?
My insides heat up like molten lava, and I immediately want to lose my shit. In fact, I’m seconds away from doing just that because, Mia’s eyes happen to latch on to mine, and the shock that’s evident on her face tells me he’s not a client of hers.
Chase returns from the restroom, and in the span of two minutes, I’ve turned into a deranged dragon with my nostrils flaring. God, I almost feel like I could blow fire out of my nose. That’s how furious I am.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Chase asks, concern on his face.
I manage to tear my eyes from Mia to look at him. “Um, no,” I croak out as my eyes return to Mia.
She looks terrified.
“I hate to do this, but something has come up. An emergency. I need to take care of it,” I grit out, my eyes flitting from Mia to Chase.
His eyes follow mine before turning back to me. “Does this have something to with the woman looking over here as if she’s seconds away from crapping herself?”
Well, aren’t I the obvious one?
I grasp my neck between my fingers and squeeze. “Can I be straight with you?”
Chase nods.
I continue, “That’s my wife, Mia. We’re separated, and tonight is the first time I’ve seen her in two months. That guy sitting with her…well, let’s just say that’s not her brother.”
“Shit,” he curses. “Say no more, man. Go, and take care of your wife. We can finish this off next week.” He reaches into his jeans pocket and passes me a business card. “Just call me tomorrow to set up a date.”
“Are you sure?” The longer I sit here, the more agitated I become, to the extent that every inch of my skin feels inflamed.
“Yes, go.”
I down the remainder of my beer before grabbing my jacket and phone. I then grab my wallet out of my pocket, but Chase stops me before I can get any money out.
“Dude, I’ve got this. Just go.”
“I owe you,” I say in a quick farewell before turning and heading in the direction of my wife.
I don’t even sense others around me. All I can see is Mia and the dick whose ass I’m going to kick. I swear, if he has so much as touched her, I’m going to kill him. I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to contain my anger enough to seem like a normal, sane person as I approach the table. As if they’ve been expecting me, I hang my coat on the chair before pulling it out and sitting down next to Mia.
“Sorry I’m late, honey, but traffic was a nightmare,” I say in an exaggerated tone.
I feel Mia stiffen beside me, but I focus on the pretty boy in front of me, who’s currently blinking with confusion, fried fish hanging out of his mouth.
“Um, who the fuck are you?” he asks while chewing rather obnoxiously.
“That’s no way to greet your date’s husband, now, is it?”
“Tyler,” Mia speaks out softly.
But I ignore her and focus on the dumbstruck expression on this idiot’s face.
“Husband?” he aims at me before asking Mia, “Wait, you’re married?” His tone is filled with utter disgust.
I almost give out a sadistic laugh.
“Um,” is all Mia can muster before picking up her glass of water and nervously gulping it down.
The guy suddenly starts laughing and looks around the restaurant. “Is this a joke? Am I being punked right now? Is Ashton Kutcher about to jump out and punk my ass?”
I let out a mocking laugh. “That would be funny, huh?” I cut my fake laughter with a death glare. “No, instead, you’re just seconds away from getting yourself an ass beating from yours truly. So, what I highly suggest you do is finish that last bit of food you have in your mouth, stand, and leave this restaurant. If you so much as look at my wife again, I will make your next meal extremely uncomfortable. You got me?” Before he can reply, I add, “Oh, and, FYI, ordering shellfish when your date is allergic is an asshole thing to do, but since you go on dates with women who are already taken, I guess that makes you an asshole.”
The dude slams his fork down on the table, glaring at the both of us while he stands. “Fuck this shit. I only came on this date to get laid, and since that’s definitely not going to happen because your wife is a boring bitch, I’m out of here.”
I push my chair back and stand to meet his height, inwardly high-fiving myself when I come up a few inches taller. “Call my wife a boring bitch again, and I will show you the definition of boring when you’re eating out of a motherfucking straw. Walk away before things get ugly. I grew up in a house with two other brothers, so I can get pretty feisty,” I arrogantly boast, winking at him.
I notice a few concerned waiters approaching, so I try to defuse the situation and not look like I’m about to wrestle him down on this table as I sit back down.
He snatches his jacket from his chair and goes to turn, but I quickly stop him.
“Um, aren’t you forgetting something?” I point toward the table, and I can see he’s visibly losing his patience. Yeah, you know how I feel, cunt. “I mean, your food isn’t going to pay for itself, and a true gentleman always picks up the bill,” I goad.
He angrily takes out his wallet and drops some cash on the table. I eye the amount with distaste.
“What? Are you dining at Taco Bell?” I snarl. “This is a nice place. I don’t think sixty dollars is going to cut it.”
His nostrils flare, and he takes out another one hundred dollars and all but throws it in my face. I let the money fall on my lap before grabbing the bottle of wine I see on the table and throwing it back.
He begins to walk off before turning back around, his eyes trained on Mia’s. “Tell your friend Riley that she’s a bitch and her pussy ain’t all that!”
Wow, talk about getting the last word in.
My eyes don’t stray from his until he’s completely out of view, and it takes me several deep breaths until I can even look at my wife because, right now, I’m seconds away from bursting a vein.
I finally look at her, and I’m met with anger. Her anger confuses me until I see that all eyes are on us, and that’s when I realize I made one hell of a scene.
“I don’t know who’s the biggest idiot—him for being a complete D-bag or you for being an alpha-male asshole!” She stands and storms off, leaving me scrambling from my seat.
I throw the rest of the money on the table before grabbing my jacket and chasing after her. Since she’s small, her feet don’t get her far, and I easily catch up with her in the lobby.
I spin her around. “Hey, how the hell can you be mad at me?” I yell, realizing I’m making another scene in front of those waiting to be seated, but honestly, I don’t give a shit.
“I’m mad because you completely embarrassed me out there!” she exclaims before angrily sighing at the new crowd we’re attracting.
She turns on her feet and heads down a corridor, in the direction to where the toilets are. I follow her.
“I embarrassed you? What about the fact that I was interviewing Chase fucking Henderson, and out of the blue, there you are, on a date with some other guy! You don’t get to be mad at me for losing my shit when you’re the one being unfaithful to me,” I spit out, feeling angrier by the second.
She halts near a disabled bathroom and turns back to me. “How can I be unfaithful if we’re not even together anymore?” she questions snottily.
The heat spears through me like a fire poker. “Because you’re my wife! We might be separated, but we’re still together, especially in the eyes of God!”
“Oh, don’t start all the religious shit. You and I both know you haven’t been to a church in years.”
“How the fuck would you know, Mia? This is the first time I’ve seen you in two months, and from all the text messages I’ve sent you, you’ve replied to me twice.” The words are just spilling out of my mouth, but I’ve no control over them. I’m simply fueled by anger. “I gave you space to work through your shit, not for you to work your problems out on another guy! At least I’ve been faithful—unlike you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Oh, so if I were out screwing any random girl, you’d be okay with that? Even with your wedding ring on your finger.” I spot both her engagement and wedding ring on a chain around her neck and take ahold of it. “Oh, sorry, I mean, around your neck. Nice,” I add with sarcasm sharp on my tongue. When she doesn’t answer me, I say, “Well, would you be okay with that? If I were fucking around with some chick, you wouldn’t be jealous?”
She sheepishly looks to the ground, and if I’m not mistaken, I see a glint of the green-eyed monster in her eyes. I let go of her necklace and tilt her chin up until she meets my eyes.
“Answer me,” I grind out, wanting to hear the words leave that beautiful mouth of hers.
“Yes!” she yells. “I’d be so fucking jealous that I would pull the scrawny bitch’s hair for even touching you.”
My dick hardens at the prospect of Mia getting all possessive over me, and in a sick and twisted move, I press my hips into her, so she can see how much she is affecting me. I don’t miss the way her breath hitches, and the very sound hardens my cock some more. I don’t know how I’m so turned on, but I know that all I want to do is slam her against this door and screw her senseless.
God, I’ve fucking missed her.
“I’m so fucking angry,” I snarl, my nostrils flaring.
Yet I can’t help but rock my hips into hers. It’s just instinct, and the friction is amazing.
Fuck yes.
She grips my arms, and I don’t miss the pinch of her hold, like she’s purposely trying to hurt me, but if anything, it’s just turning me on more.
“But I’ve also missed you like mad, and all I want to do is fuck you.”
“Fuck me then,” she pants.
That’s all it takes before I do what I’ve been craving, and I slam her against the door while my lips attack hers. She groans at the impact, and my tongue doesn’t waste a single second as it familiarizes itself with Mia’s mouth. The feel of her against my lips and her scent are like a dream come true, and I can’t believe I’ve gone months without tasting her.
While our mouths battle against each other, I blindly search for the door handle behind Mia before pushing it down. With the littlest push of our bodies, we fall backward into the restroom, our lips never breaking contact as the door crashes against the wall. Moving on only instinct, we shift further into the restroom while I grip Mia’s hair between my fingers—my coat falling on the floor—and I pull her closer against me, deepening our connection. She moans into my mouth while I kick the door shut before pushing her up against it.
“Tyler,” she breathlessly pants, coming up for air for a split second before returning her mouth back to mine. Her hands claw against my shirt and begin to hurriedly unbutton it.
Jesus, fuck, that’s sexy.
Several buttons drop to the floor as she hungrily rips open the shirt, but the instant the warmth of her hands press against my chest, all sane thoughts dissipate, to the point where she could burn the damn shirt for all I care. All I can focus on is her hands and how incredible her touch feels. My heart thrashes violently against my chest, and at the same time, my cock throbs within the confines of my jeans. My dick is so hard that it’s borderline painful, and I’m eager to rectify that right now.
“I need to be inside you,” I murmur between kisses while my hands travel down her body until they meet the flesh of her thighs.
They slide under the skirt of her dress, and I squeeze her ample hips, my fingers brushing the curve of her ass, skimming her panty line. She shivers at my touch while nibbling at my tongue, her hands reaching out to the zipper of my jeans. She hurriedly unzips me and pushes my jeans partially over my butt before reaching inside my boxer shorts and grabbing my cock between her fingers. I jerk against her heavenly grip, and it’s a miracle I don’t lose my load with just one single touch.
My sanity and patience are tested as she begins to move her hand up and down my highly sensitized dick, and as much as it feels amazing, I desperately need to feel her pussy wrapped around me instead. I lift her in my arms, and her petite body wraps around me like a glove, as if her body was made solely for me. Hiking her dress around her waist, I quickly push aside her panties before guiding the head of my cock against her already soaked opening.
“You back on the pill?” I all but growl the question.
“Yes,” she whimpers, her hands desperately clawing at my chest.
“Good.” Then, without a single warning, I sink inside her. Hard.
“Tyler, yes!” Mia moans out loud while I grit out, “Mia, fuck.”
Sweet Jesus.
I don’t have a chance to relish in this moment or take my sweet time with her as my hips begin to move of their own accord, fucking her into submission. My eyes never stray from her as I own her pussy with every deep thrust, meeting her breathless groans with my heavy grunts.
“That feel good, baby?” I rumble out, never easing the speed of my hips.
“Mmm,” Mia purrs, her fingernails scraping along my shoulders, eyes flickering closed.
“Tell me how much you love my cock,” I demand as I hit her G-spot over and over again.
“Fuck! Yes, I love your cock.”
Her screams of ecstasy fill the room, and I slam my mouth to hers to swallow her moans.
“Shh, you gotta keep your voice down,” I whisper against her mouth. “Tell me again how much you love my cock.”
“I love your cock. I fucking love it,” she breathes, her words strained as she tries to keep her voice low.
I know it must be a struggle for her, as my girl is a screamer.
Then, she turns it around.
“Tell me how much you love my pussy,” she whimpers through heavy breaths, her head falling back against the door, watching me with lustful eyes.
God, I love it when she talks dirty.
“I love your pussy. I fucking love your pretty pussy.”
Her moans echo around the room, and I slam my lips onto hers to silence her again. Her hands move to my hair, and she pulls against the strands in a death grip as she tries to contain the pleasure that is rapidly sending her into sex oblivion. Hums of sexual satisfaction rumble from the back of her throat as I continue to plow inside her, pushing myself to the brink. Sweat drips off my forehead as my arms begin to shake, my spine prickling with delight at my quickly approaching climax.
Seconds pass until every inch of Mia’s body tightens, and her pussy contracts around my dick. She bites against my tongue as she comes apart against me, and the pain of the bite and the squeeze of her pussy walls around my cock are enough to tip me over. I explode so violently that I see stars.
I pull my head away and simply stare into her beautiful green-blue eyes with little flecks of gold as I allow my body to cool down from having the most amazing sex with my wife in the first time in months. Mia slumps against my spent body, her fingers caressing through the strands of my hair that feel damp with sweat.
“I wasn’t on a date,” she whispers, out of breath.
“What?” I ask, confused, my heart thudding against my chest from the sex excursion, my breathing erratic.
“It wasn’t a real date. I mean, you can argue and say it technically was, but I was just pushing myself to see if I was ready to move on. Riley thought it would be a good idea.”
My back goes ramrod straight at the mention of that bitch’s name. She might be her best friend, but ever since she tried to break up my brother’s relationship with his fiancée—now wife—at our wedding because that’s the kind of hussy she is, I can’t stand the woman.
“Why the hell are you taking relationship advice from her of all people? She’s the last person you should be listening to. I mean, was it her idea to have this so-called date at this restaurant? Our restaurant?” I bite out.
The euphoria of our mind-blowing sex quickly turns into anger, and I remember what we were arguing about before we got carried away. I pull out of Mia and place her back on her feet.
“Yes, she picked the restaurant, but I think she set the date up to be a disaster, so I would spend the entire evening thinking of you, which I did.”
“Bullshit.” I zip myself back up, my eyes boring into hers. “She doesn’t like me, she never has, so she drummed dating into your head to try to sabotage our relationship!”
Mia crosses her arms over her chest, her face flushed. “Trust me, the only person who’s tried to sabotage our relationship is you.”
Is she fucking kidding me?
Fury runs through my veins like wildfire, and I’m unable to contain the rage within me. “Months later, and I’m still getting the blame. Yes, I was a dick for about two minutes, but you, you’re the one who left me, you’re the one who wanted more time, and while I was waiting for you at home like some goddamn lovesick puppy, you were going on dates to see if you were ready to move the fuck on. I mean, what the hell?”
“Tyler, it was only one date, and it wasn’t even a real date.”
I hear her words, but I’m unable to process them since my anger has resurfaced to the forefront of my mind, and my temper makes it impossible to focus on anything other than the blood pumping vigorously through my veins.
Words tumble from my mouth without caution. “Maybe I need to go and get myself checked out now. Who knows whom else you’ve been with since you were trying to find yourself? How many guys has it been, Mia? Three, four, fi—” I don’t get to finish my sentence as a hand whips against my face so fast that my ears begin to ring at the impact.
Shit, that hurt.
“You son of a bitch! I can’t believe you just said that. You know what, Tyler? Go fuck yourself.”
She turns on her feet and hightails it out of there, and all I can do is stand here, my hand cradling my burning cheek that feels like it’s swelling up by the second, with a what-the-fuck expression on my face.
Then, it registers, what I just said, and all of a sudden, I want to curl up into a ball and die a slow, tortuous death. Those words don’t belong in the same jurisdiction as Mia, and I hate that I said them. I don’t know why I said them.
God, I hate myself because I promised myself I would never be on the receiving end of her disappointment, but it seems like I just broke that promise.