Chapter 17

Van

For the first time in my life, I feel like a crazed stalker. My eyes follow Simone as she mingles at the party, and I have an overwhelming urge to pick her up and carry her out of here. Back to the little house we share where I’ll dump her in my bed and possess her.

I’m not overly worried about this feeling. I think if I’d just seen her for the first time and felt this, then yes, I’d be worried. I’d have to believe that would be some of Arco’s genes rearing their ugly, sick little heads.

But it’s not that. I feel this way for Simone mostly because she’s given herself to me in all ways. Well, almost all ways. I could have her heart too if I demanded it, but I can’t go that far. Over the weeks, I’ve found that not only am I absolutely carnally crazed for her, but I actually genuinely like her. The first woman after Etta that I’ve actually liked, and thus I have to be careful so as not to hurt her. I’ve already let her get way too close to me, and not only is that dangerous for her, it presents a lot of problems for me. It means that I actually might have to admit that I’ve got the capacity to have more, and that scares the shit out of me as much as believing I could turn out like Arco one day.

We’re at Brian Brannon’s house celebrating the Cold Fury’s win of the eastern conference championship. We went all seven games with New Jersey, but we pulled it out in the end with a win at home last night. The Stanley Cup doesn’t start for six days, so tonight it’s all about partying and celebrating.

Simone and I actually rode together, deciding we could pass it off simply as roommates sharing transportation. But the minute we entered the Brannon mansion, she took off.

Probably for the best…I’m not sure I could be near her and just act like a normal mingler. I’m the least social guy on this team, but trying to do that while worrying that people might figure out that I’m crazy for her is too much stress.

So I watch her.

Like a stalker.

Right now she’s talking to Gray Brannon, Brian’s daughter, and our team’s general manager. She’s pregnant. Like really pregnant. Ready to drop any day now.

Her hand rests on her stomach, where she lovingly strokes the round curve, and I wonder if Simone wants kids. I’m not sure why that even crosses my mind, because that’s not something I’d ever be interested in. The ability I would have to fuck up my kids can’t be ignored.

Gray puts her other hand on Simone’s shoulder, gives it a squeeze, and then moves away to mingle with other people.

As if she knew all the time exactly where I was and that I would be staring at her, Simone turns to look at me across the room. Brannon’s house is huge, probably twelve thousand square feet, and the entire team and their guests can all fit easily in the great room that opens up right from the foyer.

Simone smiles at me before she takes a tiny sip of champagne. My lips curve slightly, but I move my gaze off her. I’m afraid she can see something I don’t want her to see.

“What’s up, man?” A large hand claps on my shoulder and I turn to see Roman Sýkora standing there with his arm around a seriously pretty woman.

“Not much,” I say.

“This is Lexi,” Roman says, and she sticks her hand out to me. I take it and say, “Nice to meet you.”

I’ve heard of Brian Brannon’s other daughter and knew she was dating Roman, but I haven’t had the chance to meet her yet. Hell, I haven’t met many people outside of my teammates, just because I don’t attend a lot of team functions.

But sorry, a party for winning the eastern conference championship and bringing us one step closer to the Cup…well, that was something I had to come to. I took this trade to the Cold Fury first and foremost because it was the best potential to win a cup, and I desperately wanted that under my belt. I also took the trade offer because it would put me closer to Arco should I choose to go see him. Of course, that curiosity has been completely satisfied.

Two more players walk up and join our little group—Alex Crossman and Zack Grantham. Alex is our captain and star right winger. Zack is a second-line left winger, and interestingly enough, our leading point scorer in the series against New Jersey. He’d come off a groin injury feeling better than ever and it showed in his play.

“Cheers, fellas,” Zack says as he hoists his beer. Everyone in our little group raises our respective beverages. “I expect in a few weeks we’ll be doing this again. Except we’ll all be drinking out of Lord Stanley’s cup.”

“Hear! Hear!” Lexi chirps.

Conversation then begins about what each of them wants to do with the Cup when they get a chance to have it for twenty-four hours, which is tradition when the Cup is passed to the championship team. It’s probably jumping the gun to think that way, but this team is riding high on a confidence that is not misplaced at all. We’re on fire.

“That was a hell of a hit you put on Thorpe last night,” Alex says to me, and my gaze focuses on him.

“Thanks, man,” I reply, but then I’m completely at a loss as to how to carry conversation further. I’m not good at this shit.

Oddly, I have a sudden urge to have Simone by my side, because she can talk to anyone. If we were actually dating and out to the team about it, I could stand quietly by her side and just listen as she chattered away with people.

My eyes cut past Alex to her, and I see she’s looking at me with a smirk on her face. She knows this is uncomfortable for me.

Alex turns slightly and follows my gaze to where Simone is standing. If I had any common sense, I’d play it off as if I were looking at something else, but then my eyes light on Reed moving to Simone’s side. He taps her on the shoulder and she turns to him, giving a bright smile of welcome.

My stomach starts tightening with what I am man enough now to admit is pure fucking jealousy. After that caveman display at Follies that night, I’ve realized that when I say Simone is mine, that means she’s not anyone else’s. That includes happy-go-lucky guys like Reed, who’s a total flirt and a complete catch to a woman like Simone.

“Excuse me,” I growl as I push past Alex. I can feel the weight of his eyes on my back as I cross the room, shouldering my way past people. I don’t give a fuck, though. Alex isn’t the type who would say anything, even if he had a clue as to what was really going on.

As I reach Simone and Reed, my ears zero in on what he’s saying.

“…two more weeks, we win the Cup and then I’m going to get that dinner from you,” he says with charming grin. I want to punch him.

Simone sees me approach, but I don’t give her an opportunity to decline.

“I told you before she wasn’t interested,” I say—well growl—to Reed.

His head turns my way and he blinks at me once in surprise, then his eyes round with awareness. “Oh, man…sorry,” Reed says as he claps me on my shoulder. “I didn’t realize you two—”

“We’re not,” I snap at him. Reed again blinks at me, this time in confusion.

“You’ll have to excuse Van,” Simone says as she lays a hand on Reed’s forearm. “But since Lucas has practically moved in with Stephanie, Van’s appointed himself my surrogate big brother.”

My eyebrows draw together and I glare at Simone. I am in no way her big brother. I’m a fucking jealous man, apparently. But I get it…she’s trying to keep us secret and playing off my outlandish behavior.

So I grit my teeth and tell Reed, “I take my duties very seriously.”

Simone snickers and I don’t dare look at her.

“It’s cool, man,” Reed says genially as he puts his hands up in surrender. He turns and winks at Simone. “Guess it’s futile to continue to try to get you to go out with me?”

She manages a somewhat sad look. “I’m afraid so.”

“No worries,” Reed says. He gives me one last look and then leans back toward Simone, where he acts like he’s whispering, but I hear him loud and clear. “But for what it’s worth, it seems you made a good choice.”

What the fuck?

Reed doesn’t look at me again as he pushes past Simone and melts into the party.

“How could he possibly have figured that out?” I grumble.

“Because you’re so obvious,” Simone murmurs as she turns to stand at my side, making it look like we’re just casually chatting.

“I am not,” I disagree.

“You so are,” she returns, then takes a small sip of her champagne. She nods at a few people who walk by—Garrett Samuelson and his fiancée, Olivia, as well as Hawke Therrian. His girlfriend, Vale, is one of our team’s trainers, but she’s been sick with the flu and missed last night’s game. I assume she’s still recovering.

“I’m ready to leave,” I mutter down to her.

“We’ve been here for fifteen minutes,” she mutters back. “It would be so obvious if we leave.”

“Well, apparently Reed has us figured out,” I grumble. “And Alex probably too.”

Simone laughs and turns to look at me. “You’re adorable.”

“I am not fucking adorable,” I grit out as I glare back at her.

“Want to go outside and fool around a little?” she asks, her eyes promising me very nice things. “That will help ease some tension.”

“Lead the way,” I tell her with a jerk of my head toward the door. “I’ll be right behind.”

Simone winks and starts winding her way through the crowd to the front door. Those who are fashionably late are still coming in, and she slips out easily.

When she’s out of sight, I start that way, eager as hell to get my mouth on hers. Just as I make it to the door, something makes me look over my shoulder. It’s Reed, staring at me with that knowing look on his face. He holds his beer up to me in salute and then gives me a thumbs-up with a cheesy grin.

“Christ,” I mutter as I turn to the door and walk out.

“Over here,” Simone calls from my right, and I see her standing a few paces away. The landscape lighting is too bright for my taste. I walk her way, and when I reach her, I grab her hand to pull her along to the side of the house.

Once we turn the corner, the lighting is more subtle and we are least out of eyesight of anyone. Simone immediately turns into me, her arms going around my neck. I bend, my arms going to her waist, and I haul her up against me. Her mouth touches mine and fireworks seem to fucking explode low in my belly.

All just from her kiss.

Fucking unreal.

“Mmmm.” She gives me a tiny hum of appreciation against my tongue. Pulling back slightly, she says, “You’re a mighty fine kisser, Mr. Turner.”

I grin against her mouth. “You’re shinier than ever tonight, Miss Fournier.”

And Jesus, Simone giggles, and the sound gives me shivers of pure appreciation up my spine.

“I really would love to ditch this party,” she murmurs as she peers up at me. “I’ve enjoyed just being in our little bubble this past week.”

Fuck, so have I. While I was gone for two nights to New Jersey for game six, the other three nights were spent having hands down the best sex of my life. The type of sex I’d heard rumors of that just got better and better over time. I’d never been in this situation before. Never in my life have I devoted more than a few evenings with the same woman before, but yeah…Simone will always shine with me. I just know it.

The question is will my appreciation of that be enough for her? My gut says it won’t, so I don’t know what to do but hang on and hold tight while I can.

“Fuck it,” she says tartly. “Let’s just go. No one will miss us.”

“Should we say goodbye?” I ask, but I’m all for jetting to my Range Rover.

“Maybe,” she says, but then we hear noise from the front of the house. I take her hand, leading her to the corner so we can peer around.

People are moving out of the house in droves. Some walking to where their cars are parked in the large circular drive, others cutting across the front yard to where they had to parallel park on the side of the road.

“Well, that was an effective way to shut a party down,” one person says.

“Brian looked like he’s about ready to stroke out,” another says, but this was spoken on a laugh without any real concern.

I turn to look at Simone and she just shrugs.

More people—dozens—leave the house, and I see Cash McCain coming out, still holding a beer in his hand. He’s young and impressionable, but also not the brightest.

“Stay here,” I tell Simone, and then I break away from her, trotting across the lawn to catch up with Cash.

“Hey, man,” I call out to him, and he stops to turn to me. “What’s going on?”

“Weren’t you inside?” he asks.

“Had to take a leak and the line to the bathroom was a mile long,” I throw out off the top of my head. He grins and nods, and I know this man-child has peed in many a yard in his young life.

I nod back to the house. “Why’s everyone leaving?”

“Gray went into labor,” Cash says with a toothy grin. “Water broke right there over that fancy rug by the fireplace. Brian called the party over. They’re loading her up in Ryker’s car to take her to the hospital.”

“Gotcha,” I say with relief. “Guess I’ll head out myself.”

“Wanna go party?” he asks me.

“Nope. Going to get a good night’s sleep,” I reply. Right after I have my way with Simone. But I eye the beer in his hand and ask, “You okay to drive?”

“This was my first,” he says, holding the beer up. “I’m good.”

“All right…see you at the next practice,” I say genially, and realize I just had a friendly conversation and it wasn’t all that hard.

“Cool, dude,” he says, and heads toward the road. My car is up that way too, but I give him a few yards and then I turn back to where Simone’s standing the darkness. I jerk my head toward where the Range Rover is and hope she understands. I turn and start walking that way, knowing she’ll catch up to me.

When I reach the passenger door, I wait for Simone. People walk by, calling out goodbyes. Some people are talking about going to the hospital.

I open the door when she approaches and she slides in. I jog around to the driver’s side, and once I’m seated and belted, I feel compelled to ask. “I’m not great with this social shit, but should we be going to the hospital? I heard some people say that as they were walking by.”

Simone shakes her head. “I’m not sure the hospital would appreciate that. Plus, she could be in labor for hours.”

I sigh with relief. Last thing I wanted was to be standing around in a cramped waiting room with Simone in reaching distance but with no ability to touch her.

“Then let’s go home,” I say as I start the engine.

“What are we going to do?” she teases, reaching a hand over to lay it on my thigh. Once I put the Rover in drive and pull onto the road, my hand goes down to wrap around hers. She squeezes my hand in return, and that’s when I notice I actually made an affectionate, nonsexual move on her that was done without any real thinking on my part. Almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I resist the slight urge to pull away, and then it passes.

I turn to give her a brief glance. “I’ve got handcuffs. Wanna play?”

“Oh yeah,” she says, her voice husky. “Totally want to play.”