Crew (Hockey Royalty #3)

21. Crew

Chapter 21

Crew

W hat now? That's the memo my brain is currently sending my heart. But my heart is too busy flopping around like a fish on a dock to come up with an answer. I like this woman. It's not something I planned or even wanted but damn, I like her. A lot.

There's still a lot she doesn't know about me though, so the fact that she's beaming right now isn't something I take solace in. I have had this talk with my therapist, about what would happen if I found someone else I wanted to seriously pursue. I blew him off when he asked the question because it seemed impossible. I would not let myself fall. He backed off when it was clear my only answer to his questions about how I would address my sexuality was 'Don't have to worry. Not going to happen.' But he did say in order to start a relationship authentically I should be upfront about it as soon as possible.

The question is, now that I’m in this situation I never thought I would be in, how do I do that?

We pull to a stop in front of her apartment and she lingers, clinging to my back for a few minutes as I turn off the bike and pull off my helmet. I love the feeling of her against me like this. When she finally lets go, she lifts herself off the bike and yanks off her helmet. Her hair is all over the place so I put down the kickstand, get off the bike, and stand in front of her, smoothing her dark silky hair back into place. “So… now what?”

I wish I knew, Fireball, I think and give her a little shrug. “I think I need to have a chat with Tate. Then I’ll swing by the team store and grab you a jersey with my name on the back.”

She grins. “I understand the Tate thing being a priority, but the jersey?”

“Huge priority,” I promise her. “Because I do not want to see Tater or Tot or any version of that on you again. Also, feel free to wear the jersey, and nothing else, on date nights. Home date nights of course. When I get a home. I’m working on that.”

“You are something else.”

“I am. But… I think you can handle it.” I wink at her because I know she loves it. I can tell by the way her skin tinges pink. “So you good with me telling Tate?”

She nods. “You can tell whoever you want. Just… what exactly are you telling them?”

“That you and I are seeing each other,” I say. “The details of how and where and when it started are ours alone. You good with that, Fireball.”

She nods. “And you’re good with me telling people too? Because FYI, I think my mom has already figured it out and will likely say something stupid in our family group chat.”

"Okay, then I better get to Tate sooner rather than later."

She bites that perfectly plump bottom lip again. “I also… I mean will this be exclusive because I just… I can’t handle sharing.”

"I can't either," I reply. "And for the record, I haven't been with anyone since our hookup in Vegas."

“Me either, but I’m betting you guessed that.”

“I did.”

“I’m a little self-conscious at how different our experience levels are,” she admits and her head is tipped down so I’m looking at the top of her head and not her face. “I feel like… I worry it will bore you.”

“I don’t even think about it, Olivia,” I promise her as I scoop her chin in my hand and force her to look at me. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve had a good amount of sex with a decent amount of people. But when I’m with you, I think of only you. I get excited at the idea of discovering things with you. What you like, how you like it. I want to be your plaything, Olivia. Nothing is off-limits with us, and I want you to know that. Whatever you want to try, let's try it. Except sharing. I don't want to share you with anyone. For any reason."

“Oh… okay.” She looks a little bit relieved but only a little. “I just… what if I’m vanilla?”

“It’s a valid flavor, Fireball.” I smile and kiss her lips softly. “I like vanilla. Whatever you are, sweetheart, I’m here for it. You turn me on with clothes on and off, mentally and physically, and I can’t tell you the last time that happened.”

“Your ex-wife?”

Huh. That’s a loaded question. “Maybe. Sort of. Not really.”

I’m scrambling in my head to figure out a way to explain that to Olivia. I am not a guy who is good with words. At least, not when they matter. Nash is the far more articulate one. Anne-Marie always used to tell me I have the communication skills of a toddler.

“You started dating her when you were…?”

“Fourteen.”

“So, the connection was mental and physical but it was also juvenile, right?” Olivia says, glancing up at me timidly through her lashes. “When couples get together at such a young age, it can be hard to grow emotionally. Not always but sometimes you get stuck in the less developed communication patterns you started in.”

I must look as stunned as I am because she smiles sheepishly. "Yeah I mean, I was connected to my ex emotionally and physically, obviously, but that didn't grow like it should have, like you said. But how did you know that?"

“I took a few psychology courses,” she replies. “And when everyone else was exploring human connection and acting on hormones I was just thinking about them. Analyzing them. Reading about it. Also, I’ve had boyfriends and some pretty solid relationships. But they always ended when I wouldn’t… I mean, there’s a place we would get to and I wouldn’t go farther so they always ended.”

“And then you just decided to pick a random guy in Vegas and go all-in?” I ask because it still doesn’t make sense to me. I keep telling myself it doesn’t have to. And it doesn’t. A woman has a right to make her own decisions, about sexuality or anything else, without anyone else’s approval or understanding. But I’m so damn curious.

"Well the universe kind of gave me a wake-up call that I should get on with it," Olivia confesses, but before I can quiz her about that statement because it seems slightly ominous, she keeps going. "And you weren't exactly, totally random. I recognized you, remember? I knew you were a stand-up guy. I was safe and it would be a solid effort on your part, even as a one-night stand. So… here we are."

“What was the wake?—”

“Oh shit.”

Olivia and I both snap our heads toward the voice and as soon as I see Grady’s face I take a step back, away from Olivia. I regret it immediately because it makes me look guilty. And I’m not. I’ve done nothing wrong. Grady's eyes flare and our gaze locks, but he turns away and focuses on his cousin. "Hey, Liv. Did I interrupt something? Sorry!"

“No. We were just saying goodbye,” Liv says as she walks over to him and gives him a hug. Over her shoulder, his eyes stay on me and they’re hard. “You know Crew, right?”

“Yeah. Through work,” Grady mutters.

She glances at me and I nod and toss a “Hey. Hi.” to Grady who ignores me. He starts up the steps to Olivia’s apartment.

“I’m here to see Uncle Devin.”

“Is Dad here?” Olivia asks. “He wasn’t when I left.”

“Left to go on a date with Crew?” Grady asks her.

"It wasn't a date," I interject for some stupid reason. Holy shit this is next-level awkward and I'm making it worse. "It was me trying to smooth over a misunderstanding. I… I should go. I guess, but actually, Grady I wanted to talk to you for a second about a hockey thing."

“Talk to me tomorrow,” Grady says without looking at me. He reaches for the door to the building. “I’m supposed to do an interview with Devin for TSN. He told me to meet him here.”

“I thought you were leaving tomorrow.”

“Not anymore.” Grady yanks open the door but finally stops to look at me. “I was traded.”

“To who?”

He cocks his head and looks at me like I’ve lost every single one of my marbles. I guess I have because it hits me at the same moment Olivia squeals the text abbreviation, “O-M-G! You’re a Quake?”

“Yeah. Their goalie is out for at least six months so they needed someone cheap and easy,” Grady announces as she leaps into his arms again for a celebratory hug. "I mean, someone other than Crew."

Ouch.

He smiles like he’s making a joke but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Olivia smacks his chest and rolls her eyes, not getting how personal that dig was. “Why do hockey players always talk shit to each other?”

“It’s called chirping,” I explain. “Integral part of the sport.”

She turns back to me. “Talk to you later?”

“Talk to you soon,” I confirm and manage to muster up a smile for her. Then my eyes skitter over to Grady. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

He doesn’t answer. He just disappears inside Olivia’s apartment complex with her. I feel nauseated as I get on the bike. He could say anything to her. He could ruin things with Olivia before they even really start and I can’t help but wonder how the hell I got here. Caring about someone screwing up a relationship I never even wanted.