The guys are back on the ice, and I find myself holding my breath watching Axel move with power and skill. He’s confident and cocky. And when he looks up at the glass and nods, I feel it in my heart.
Cammy clears her throat beside me. “Besides, given a little time, who knows what kind of fire you’d have. It’s pretty easy to fall in love with these guys.”
I choke, and she pulls a wide grin. “I mean, the team. The sport.”
Yeah, right. She’s not even trying to be subtle, which has me rolling my eyes with a snicker. “I’ll have to take your word for it since I won’t have that time.”
“March. Paris,” she says, taking another sip. “Dream job. Got it.”
There’s a gleam in her eyes that tells me I don’t think she does, but she’s so cute about it, I don’t try to convince her.
She offers me another cocktail, but outside of sharing a beer with Axel here and there, I’m not much of a drinker and probably won’t even finish the one I have. Cammy’s crazy fun and generous with team tea. And somehow, knowing more about who the players are as people and how they met their significant others makes the on-ice action all the more exciting.
By the time it’s over, my cheeks hurt from smiling, my voice is hoarse from cheering, and the girls have convinced me to agree to Axel’s request that we hit the Five Hole bar for a celebratory beer— the only denial I’d managed to stay firm on this morning.
I’ve been peeking in through the phone app to see how things were going at home, but I’m not used to being away from the little guy this long and call the sitter on our way to the bar. She tells me he’s perfect, had a bottle not too long ago, and is sleeping soundly. She’s fine staying later but has to rush me off the phone when Axel beeps in on her other line.
Cammy’s just hanging up with her sitter too, one of George’s cousins, when we get to the Five Hole. I’ve been to a couple of bars, but they were the small-town variety. Quiet and drab, with a handful of patrons occupying the stools at any given hour.
Nothing like this one.
This bar is packed with fans wearing Slayers jerseys, voices rising as the excitement over the game carries on.
Cammy grabs my hand, pulling me through the throng. “Come on, this way.”
The crowd thins when we get to the back room, and a couple of the girls have already gotten a table for us. We talk about Paris and babies. Hockey egos and reformed players. We swap stories about family, and I’m stunned to hear that George’s might actually out-crazy mine.
It’s fun.
I’m on my way back from the bar with a water when some guy bumps into me. Just a little bump, but he reaches out, steadying me with his hand. “Sorry about that,” he says, leaning into my space before adding, “Guess we should have talked before we left, huh?”
I pull back, confused. “Sorry?”
He edges closer, giving me a too-familiar smile. I don’t think I know him. Do I?
“We’re matching. The jerseys. Erikson.”
Looking down, I get it. “Oh right! I didn’t— Never mind. Funny.”
I give him a parting wave, but he catches my hand. “Hey, what’s your name?”
Uh-oh. I shake my head, not wanting to be rude but seriously not interested.
Only before I can extract my hand, I’ve got six-foot-something of vibrating intensity doing it for me.
Axel.
His arm slips around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. And when I turn to look up at him, maybe congratulate him on his game, his mouth comes down on mine in an unmistakable claim.
With tongue.
In the middle of the bar.
I’d like to say I didn’t give in, that I had more restraint, but no.
Axel’s kiss is like a drug, skewing my better judgment and leaving me wanting more and more and more.
We don’t come up for air until the rowdy cheers and catcalls from our table penetrate our bubble. Axel’s forehead presses to mine, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the bar.
“Good game,” I pant, my hands smoothing over his lapels.
His hands bunch at the sides of my Erikson jersey. “Liked you being there. Have fun?”
“So much.”
“Think that guy’s gone?”
“What guy?”
His smile makes my heart do crazy things. “The one turning me into a jealous fuck and wanting to carry you out of here right now so I can spend the rest of the night proving to you I’m the only guy for you.”
My body is instantly on board. I pull him closer. “Mmm. You’re the only guy I see, but if you’ve got something to prove… I’m all for helping out.”
Axel
Okay, so maybe I’m the jealous type. It’s not exactly news. Except it’s never been like this.
In the two weeks since I found that fucker chatting my girl up after our game, it’s like I’m constantly being confronted by some asshole intent on taking her from me. And, surprise! I don’t like it.
Lucky for me, Nora doesn’t get bothered by my possessive caveman bullshit. She doesn’t exploit it, either. Heck, most of the time, she doesn’t even seem to notice what’s happening.
Like the wine guy at the gourmet market who was blatantly checking her out while I stood three feet off… with our baby. Shit. My baby. The baby that could very well be hers for all he knew.
I was half tempted to leave a Yelp review.
And when I took them to lunch at the Mediterranean place? The hostess who seated us actually leaned in and smelled her hair. Touched it and smelled it and told her how much she loved it while searching out eye contact not on offer because Nora only had eyes for the menu and later, me.
Ha. Bite it, hostess girl. She’s mine.
Truth, it doesn’t matter if we’re taking Otto for a check-up with the pediatrician, to the Shedd Aquarium, or for a walk around the block because it happens to be an unseasonably nice day out. There’s always someone giving her a smile that says they want to take her from me. And it’s driving me nuts because I don’t get to keep her very long as it is.
And that is something I’m working overtime to ignore.
Yeah, it’s there.
She’s leaving for Paris in a handful of weeks.
We both know it.
But while she’s here, she’s mine.
Mine to laugh with into the night. To wash bottles with and search for missing socks with. To compete with for best picture of Otto. To share everyday wins and losses with and to sit in front of the fire and just be quiet with.
Until she leaves, she’s mine.
Chapter 18
Nora
I sleep in Axel’s bed every night. Even the ones when he’s traveling. He likes to see his headboard or sheets in the background when we video chat, so I accommodate him when I can, bringing Otto in to cuddle while his daddy reads him a story and then chats with me.
And when Otto’s napping or asleep after a game? Well, Axel especially likes to see me in his bed then, and he’s spent an inordinate amount of time trying to talk me into sexy acts I could never agree to but just hearing described in his deep, rumbling voice leave me achy and worked up. So much so, the last time he came home from a road trip, I jumped him at the door.