Chapter Thirty-Two
Ryan
Back at thebeginning of the month, when Sofia asked me to run with her, I thought it wouldn’t go well. I thought running with her in short shorts as she huffed and puffed beside me would be torture on my cock, and it was. But I love it. It’s the crack of dawn, and normal people who wake up this early would probably only do so to have sex, but we do it because running isn’t so bad when we’re together. Like every morning, her hair is in a high bun and she has earmuffs on since it’s starting to get colder. She is wearing a large hoodie, with shorts that show every inch of those delectable thighs. Her nose is flaming red and so are her cheeks, and I love looking at her.
“How’d it go?”
I roll my eyes as I shake my head. Unlike her, I have gloves on because my fingers get cold. My beanie is covering my ears, and I’m wearing three shirts since I couldn’t come out here in sweat pants when she’s running in those shorts. I don’t want to seem like a pansy, but I honestly don’t know how she runs without freezing her ass off.
Because I am.
My teeth rattle as I say, “Bullshit.”
“No, really? I felt good about it.”
“Utter bullshit. Same song, different verse. He doesn’t know many teams that need a defensemen. I’m big, so he thinks that will be good for me, but he can’t promise me anything.”
“And this was the multi-team guy, right?”
“Yeah, Hurricanes, Rangers, Devils, and Islanders.”
“I have no clue who they are,” she says, sending me a quick grin, and I breathe out in amusement. “Someone will come.”
She’s so sweet.
“I need to take you to a game.”
“You sure do. You said you would.”
“And I always do what I say.”
“You do,” she says before pulling in a deep breath. “Fuck, it’s cold today.”
“I know. You know they said it’s gonna be seventy this weekend?”
She rolls her eyes, and I laugh. “This Tennessee weather is bipolar!”
“It is. We have all four seasons in one week. I love it.”
She doesn’t seem to feel the same. We jog in silence for a moment, the air so crisp. The sun is coming up, warming the sky with beautiful reds and oranges. Reminds me of the morning I almost kissed her. Seems like eons ago.
“So where would you want to play?”
“Here,” I answer without hesitation, even though I wasn’t paying a lick of attention. “Always here. I love the Assassins. I love their family vibe, and it’s the team my aunt owns.”
She furrows her brow before glancing over at me. “So tell her to put you on the roster.”
“Isn’t that easy,” I say, taking in a deep breath. “If your aunt owned the Olympic team, would you want her to just put you on it?”
She gives me a curt nod. “Okay, I get it.”
“Yeah.”
We jog for a few beats before she asks, “Okay, so what’s your next choice team?”
“At this point, anything,” I say, and I wish I hadn’t.
I don’t want her to worry. The last few weeks have been magical. We have a system. We see each other when we can, and we talk until one of us falls asleep. Usually her, but I don’t mind. I love listening to her breathe. But I haven’t told her what Shea and I talked about. I sort of swept it under the rug and have been working toward my goals. Shea’s been great. He fired my agent and got me with his buddy Mick Majors, one hell of an agent. He was honest the first time we met, and while it was hard to hear, he doesn’t think I’ll make it in.
That doesn’t mean he won’t try, though. I know he’s doing it as a favor to Shea, but I’ll take whatever help I can get. I want to succeed. I want this, even if it means leaving Sofia. That’s the only thing that really holds me up every time I go to these meetings. When I sit down and they ask me what I want in the next five years—and they all ask the same question—I find myself pausing and swallowing the phrase, “I hope I’m still with Sofia Castilleja.”
Man, she’s got me hooked.
I’m pretty fucking sure I’ve fallen for her. Like, really fallen for her, and that will do nothing but complicate things. Putting aside whether I’m going into the NHL or not, there is the issue of this being her first relationship. Hell, her first everything. She has three more years here. And when I’m gone, she won’t want to wait around on me. I would. I’d wait years for her, but again, I’ve been around enough to know she is the best person I’ve ever been with. For her, though, she’ll always wonder if there is more out there. And there may be. She’ll have to decide that, but if I tell her I love her, she won’t leave, and then she’ll resent me.
That knowledge feels like a jagged sword plunging into my chest and twisting over and over again.
I’m screwed.
“I did a Google search.”
I groan loudly, and she laughs, trying to smack me, but I move out of the way. “The last time you did a Google search, you went down on your knees and sucked me off in a hallway. I think I almost died that day.”
“You’re so dramatic. You loved it,” she insists, flashing me a smirk.
“Oh, I did. Very much so.” I give her a wink, and her cheerful giggles run down my spine.
“Anyway, I did the search, and apparently, the closest team to here is St. Louis. Closest other than the Assassins, of course.”
My heart does somersaults in my chest as I quirk my lip. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“So, I vote for them. If you’re there, I can come stay with you some, and we can hang during your downtime.”
I glance over at her. “Always the planner.”
“Just saying, no telling what could happen. You may hate me tomorrow, and all these Google searches will be for nothing.”
I shoot her a serious look. “Cold day in hell.”
Her grin is shy, but oh so beautiful. “Good.”
We share a small smile, and I love the little quirk on the side of her mouth. “Man, Sofia, I’m really into you.”
Her lashes flutter as she moves a tendril of hair out of her eyes, gazing up at me with that come and get me look. With the confidence of a girl who knows she has it going on, she says, “Damn right, you are.”
She blows my fucking mind.