Gavin
I blamed the snow.
I blamed the pain.
I blamed, so I wouldn’t have to face a team that had lost exactly what I lost. I wanted to be who I was before the crash when I faced my team again. I wouldn’t be able to look Coach in the eye, limping and broken, and then go home and do the same to my own eyes.
At some point I had to stop running from the propellers and let them crush me already. Cut me in half so I could learn to be half a person again. Like the boy I was before I met Jasmeen. She knew how to handle that half a boy a lot better than I did. Hell, she loved him when he was sure there was nothing in him to love.
“You’re going to become a shut-in,” Jas said, coming into my bedroom and walking over to the windows. She pulled back on the curtains, and light from an early morning winter in New York came flooding into my room like acid.
I shrunk away and burrowed under my covers, glad I didn’t have to sleep on the couch like a temporary guest in my own home any longer.
“Take it from a fellow shut-in, Gav. It’s no fun living in a cave.” She put her hands on her hips and watched me, her expression both knowing and empathetic.
“We’ve been over this already. This isn’t a cave. It’s a penthouse.”
Her eyes spun, and she came closer. “I know, I know, you’re a rich famous tool. No need to keep reminding me.”
She pulled a smile from my lips. She had on one of my shirts over her pale blue sleeping shorts. Her long pale legs looked supple and creamy. My cock stirred beneath the covers. The only time I felt okay, was with my fingers wrapped around her throat and her life force pounding under my fingertips. The harder she lived, the more I wanted to.
Her eyes saw the tent I was putting up, and she giggled, shaking her head at me. “You have a constant hard on. It’s not healthy.”
I pulled the covers back to give her a show. She knew she wanted one. I knew the same. Her humorous smile faded to a soft lilt, and she bit down on her bottom lip. The damn thing wanted me as much as I wanted her. “Looks healthy to me. Feels healthy, doesn’t it, baby?”
She squeezed her thighs together and bit down on her plush bottom lip harder. “We can’t stay in bed and make love all day.”
“Why not?” I asked honestly. “When we’re together, everything feels better.”
Her lust softened around the edges. “Then let’s do other things together. Let’s get out of this cave and go do something. Grab some lunch, maybe a movie. Like we used to.” Her voice became wistful.
She wanted that easy first love date again. But this wasn’t first love, and nothing was easy this go-around. Not to mention she was the only person in my life who didn’t make the connection with personal and professional when it came to me.
“Rich, famous tool, remember?”
“Oh right,” she muttered, and I watched her try to come up with a plan.
I could have helped her, but I loved watching her attempt to come up with plans that were better than sex. I studied the faint bruise mark on her neck from my thumb, and I ached to feel her pulse. My cock thickened.
She noticed. A hint of panic entered her eyes and she started throwing ideas at me.
“We could go for a drive?”
“To where?” I asked without interest.
She blew her breath out in a huff. “We could go somewhere secluded.”
“No such place in New York.”
“We could… start planning our wedding,” she said, and a severely bright light entered her eyes, turning them into two vats of melted lead.
I hadn’t seen that light since the night we lost our virginity. I smiled fondly, thinking of that time. The awkward intense need. I wanted so badly to be good for her. She embraced my bad. I couldn’t fathom snuffing out that light.
Plus, I wanted her to be mine again. On paper. On record. In front of what little friends and family we had. I wanted the time we spent apart to be an old painful memory.
“What’s there to plan?” I asked, my voice dropping. “Me, you—that’s all I need.” I started stroking my shaft. “Take your shorts off and come take my cock.”
Her shorts hit the floor. She straddled me. She sank onto me slowly. Her pussy felt like I was fisting fire, and everything I didn’t want to think about faded away. I wanted to move on with her. But we were stuck in my injuries, and the mess my life had become. I held her to me, my thumb pressing deeply into her pulse. Her eyes didn’t panic, didn’t fear. She trusted me.
I syphoned off her life.
Realizing in bliss that I was addicted to her, too.
She rode the wave of addiction, and I faded into the abyss of intoxication.
I knew that wasn’t healthy. To need life from each other, but that way of thinking was for people who weren’t us. For kids who knew love. As kids, the only love Jas and I knew was in each other. That’s how it had been, and it made sense that apart we couldn’t find that. Some people belonged together; those people were us.
“You think we’re doing it again?” I asked, the pleasure radiating from our conjoined hips taking my breath away.
She circled her hips around me in a slow, damaging circle. “What do you mean?”
“We’re getting married again. I’m just wondering if we’re doing it for the right reasons. It’s like I want you, Jas, but I can’t see through any of the fog to make a choice that’s good for you.”
She took a second, her hips speeding up, taking me deeper. I groaned loud in my bedroom.
“You think we’re rushing into this? That we want what we had so much, we’re trying to go backward?”
I could feel my orgasm coming. My balls grew heavy and my cock thickened inside of her to the point of pain. I held off, wanting to get this out while I was encumbered by her. “I think we’re both addicted to each other. That’s hot, it’s consuming—it’s what we need right now. What if you want more than a fix later on?”
She reached down to grasp my face as she showed me the way back to heaven with her hips. “Stop trying to put your worry on other places.” She came down on me hard, and my spine arched. “What do you really fear?” she asked.
I orgasmed, shooting my seed deep into her. “Losing you,” I gasped, digging my thumb into her vein.
She fell into her own orgasm a moment later, and the absolute thrill of feeling her life pound in her veins made me realize how terrified I was of not being able to keep her a second time.
There weren’t third, fourth, or even fifth chances in life. We’d gotten a second one. I couldn’t blow it.
So I worked harder. I lifted weights in the gym, and painstakingly took my time on the treadmill, until I could walk a mile, and then I walked two more. She helped me. Stretching out my leg, rubbing out the tightness. I kept the truth sealed up tight.
There was nerve damage in my leg. And no matter how hard I tried to strengthen it, it didn’t feel like I’d ever cut through the ice again. But I got to the point where I could walk for a couple hours before I needed my crutches. We’d been so involved in us, we didn’t realize what the date was until Lance came into the kitchen and announced that Mr. and Mrs. DeJones were downstairs.
Jasmeen’s spoon fell from her grip and clattered to the wooden table top. We’d been in the middle of looking at rehab stretches online. She was determined to get me walking again, desperate to prove me wrong.
“Should I see them up?” Lance asked.
Jas cleared her throat. “They’re here, right now?”
He inclined his head, pale green eyes amused. “It’s Christmas. Apparently, you’re difficult to get ahold of.”
She blinked a few times. She sat back, stunned. “Christmas? Since when?”
“Since midnight, ma’am.”
Her eyebrows scrunched together. “Lance, cut out the ma’am crap.” She pushed away from the table and began clearing our dishes. “Yeah, send them up. Thank you.”
I watched as she cleaned up the table—I wasn’t even done with my eggs—and went into meltdown mode. She tossed the pillows on the couch back in order, ran into our bedroom, where she stayed for a few minutes, and then rushed back out, scurrying over to the mirror above the fireplace to fluff her hair.
The elevator dinged, and in walked two people I hadn’t seen in longer than four years. It was always odd to me that two emotionally empty people could create a daughter who was deeply rooted in her emotions. I could see without asking that her father, Keith, was here only because her mother had dragged him along. His expression was flagrantly empty. Mrs. DeJones looked shrewd and cold in her beige suit and pants.
“Mom, Dad,” Jas greeted, hugging them both with that same confused frown between her brows.
I knew what she was thinking. What were they doing here?
A sudden rush of anger filled me. I wanted to fill her world with so much love she didn’t have to frown at it. Didn’t have to search for it. I wanted it to be right in front of her, the way she deserved.
“I had a conference at the Four Seasons. Thought we’d stop by, since you haven’t answered your phone. Or email.” As she hugged her daughter, she looked at me, and winked. “Long time no see, Gavin.”
I got up and walked over to them both, giving them polite hugs. I wasn’t used to hugging parental units. Didn’t relate whatsoever. Jas was my mom and dad and my sister and my girlfriend all rolled up into one. She was my family.
“How long will you be in town?” Jas asked them.
Her father’s eyes widened as he walked over to a puck signed by Wayne Gretzky. “Is this…?”
“Real? It better be. I scored it at a charity auction for fostered youth a few years back. Cost me ten-thousand-dollars. He signed and handed it to me himself.”
Keith licked his lips. “Fine piece of memorabilia.”
“Gavin does a lot for fostered youth. I especially loved that charity ball dinner you had in Los Angeles. The food was out of this world,” Wynona crooned.
Behind her, Jas frowned harder. I avoided her gaze. “Thanks again for coming.” I needed a mother, was part of the whole, I found my way, you can too, vibe I wanted the kids to feel. The only mother I knew that hadn’t screwed me over was Jasmeen’s.
That’s only because she didn’t risk getting close enough to whisper, let alone screw anyone over. But that was also a matter of opinion. Her inability to care had broken her daughter.
Wynona was all too happy to oblige when I asked her for help, especially since she knew all along that I hadn’t cheated on her daughter. She never told her daughter either, though, something I always wondered about. Why did her mother keep that secret, when all she had to do was tell her? I thought the reason might be because in order to talk to her daughter about her marriage ending, she had to be there emotionally, and that had always been her weakness.
“Tell me more about that charity ball, Mom. When exactly was it?”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Get over it, Jasmeen. You can’t hold on to things. It gives you wrinkles.” She came deeper into my penthouse and then turned, meeting my eyes. “How are you doing?”
“Better.”
“That’s very good. You’ll have us, won’t you? We’ll be in town for a couple weeks. Merry Christmas.”
Jas and I shared a moment of eye contact. She shrugged and then widened her eyes, backed into a corner.
“Of course,” I obliged, having no other choice.
Wynona smiled privately. “Where’s your tree?”
“We don’t have one,” Jas responded, a surprised edge to her words.
Trees, holidays? We were ensnared by the other, too trapped to celebrate more than us.
“We’ve been working really hard on getting Gav stronger. Things have been busy.” Her cheeks brightened to a subtle, groin hardening pink.
In that blush, I saw every filthy thing we’d done together.
Things had been busy all right… I smiled crookedly, giving her look as I remembered how we spent last night. Her on her knees, my cock deep in her tight little throat. Her eyes teared up. But both of our eyes were dripping life and love, and that was all we needed.
I wondered if that was our problem. The world said we should want more than each other. We should strive for success, and family’s, and relationships outside of us. But we didn’t want anyone else outside of each other. In us, that’s all we needed.
I didn’t crash into the world. I didn’t crash into sanity. I crashed into us, and our love was too intense and consuming to seek outside opinion.
“It’s Christmas, Jas,” her mother admonished. “Let’s go out and get a tree. Gavin, I know you’re fame hinders you, so why don’t you and Keith watch some football.” Her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door.
Jasmeen glanced over her shoulder at me worriedly, grabbing her purse along the way.
“But—” she tried to say.
“He’ll be fine,” Wynona mumbled, glancing down at the ring on Jas’s finger. “You hopeless addict.”
Keith and I stared at each other, and then we both shrugged.
“You got beer?”
“Wine,” I offered.
“Wine it is.”
He plopped on my sofa and turned on a Giants game. I settled on the other end, after placing a bottle of chardonnay with a glass in front of him, along with a bowl of spicy nuts.
“Why are you really here?” I asked after a while.
He popped a handful of nuts into his mouth. “We need money.”
My head bobbed in understanding. Figured. “How much?”
“However much you want to give us, son-in-law.” His tone took on a false, avuncular tone.
“If I gave you fifty-thousand, but the price was to get out of Jasmeen’s life for good, would you do it?”
“For fifty thousand, I’d leave my wife.” He chuckled.
But I didn’t think anything was funny. Her parents were bad for her. I always saw it, the way her soul shuddered when they came into the room, the way she tried, no matter what, to please them. She failed every time, and it wasn’t even her fault. They failed her first.
“We’ll have this Christmas together. And then you’re both leaving.”
He chewed through his nuts, and then gave me a curt nod. “She’s not a kid anymore. She’ll be fine without us.”
Monsters. At least my parents had the decency to cut out before they ruined me completely. Jas’s parents took their time pulling away at her self-esteem.
When Jas and her mother got back, Lance followed, with a tree the size of a minivan. “Where should I put this?” he grunted, struggling to wrestle the tree after him. The scent of pine filled the room and little green shards from the tree fell to the floor during Lance’s struggle.
“By the window. It’ll look incredible in the morning and evening,” Wynona coached. I watched how she and Keith made eye contact, and the small nod he slipped her when they thought no one was looking.
Jas smiled timidly. “It would look pretty right there.”
I felt sick to my stomach seeing that hopeful smile on her face. Even after all these years she sought that connection with her parents. “What’s in those?” I pointed at the bags in her hands.
“Ornaments and decorations. Christmas dinner’s being ordered. Oh, and this epic Christmas music CD. Want me to put it on?” She bit her lip excitedly.
I pasted on a smile. “No.”
She laughed. “Too bad.” She leaned close to kiss my cheek, putting her lips over my ear. “Maybe this will be a good thing. Mom seems excited.”
I struggled to keep my smile in place. “I love you, you know that?”
Her smile became softer, private—mine. “Yeah, Gav. It’s starting to come back to me.”
I kissed her hard for a few seconds, and then grabbed the CD from her, walking over to put it into my stereo. Christmas music filled my house, and the DeJones’ helped Jasmeen and I decorate the tree. Thankfully, the Christmas music was loud enough to hinder talking.
The dinner they ordered out ended up being amazing. Turkey, stuffing, wine drenched cranberries—I ate to keep my mouth shut. Her mother talked nonstop about trivial things. Toward the end of dinner, she made plans to go to a parade on Times Square. Jasmeen brightened, soaking up her mother’s attention like a sponge.
She showed them their guest room and then she and I went to bed around midnight. The tree glowed gold in the night of the room, and I admitted that it looked beautiful, but it felt like a huge lie.
“Kind of a good surprise,” she noted, pulling back the covers on the bed.
“Your parents popping in?”
“Mhm. Feels weird, but good weird. Maybe they want to be in my life more.”
“Maybe,” I lied, crawling into bed beside her. I opened my arms and she fell into them, burrowing into me. I kissed the top of her head. “But what if they don’t want to be there more?”
A soft sigh fell from her lips. “I know why they’re here, Gav. I’m not stupid. But it was still nice to have them around.”
I contemplated keeping that from her, but what kind of marriage would we have lying to each other? “I offered your father fifty g’s, on one condition.”
She froze. “What condition?”
“They have to leave, and never come back into your life again.”
She rose on her elbow and stared down at me. A deep sadness cooled in her eyes. “What did he say?”
I brushed the hair from her face and then cupped her cheek. “He took the money, baby.”
She ducked her head and returned it to my chest. Her body stiffened. “You’re really all I have in life, Gavin.”
I kissed her hair again, sliding my lips over the soft silky strands. “Doesn’t that make you resentful? Only having me? I’m not exactly a prize. I mean look at me. I’m an ex-hockey player with a bum leg and no clue what I’m going to do.”
But she shook her head. “Not resentful. Thankful.”
Dark relief filled me. “I’m thankful for you, too, Jasmeen. Thankful from the bottom of my heart. For your love, for your strength, for your support. I love you with everything inside of me, and I’m going to keep loving you. You won’t need your parents. You’ll have me. And we’ll make babies who love you as much as you wanted to love your mother. We’ll have love, because that’s what we hunger for.”
That night, when she was fast asleep, I got up and went to my office. I wrote the DeJones’ a check for fifty-thousand dollars. I slipped it under their door.
The next morning, they were gone.
Jasmeen woke up as I was staring at the tree. There were no presents underneath it.
But I didn’t need a present.
I wrapped her in my arms and rested my chin on the top of her head. I already had everything I needed.