The Pucking Girl Next Door (Power Play Off The Ice: Snowed in for the Hoildays)

13. Annabelle

Chapter 13

Annabelle

A fter a few minutes of us both laying in each other arms, enjoying skin to skin touch, I look up at him. Smith is smiling down at me as if I'm his world, giving me a warm and fuzzy feeling. The awkwardness of what happens after sex thankfully doesn't seem to taint the moment, like it has done for me in past relationships.

"That was incredible," I breathe out, returning his smile.

"No, you're incredible," he says as he bops my nose, which feels out of character for him but is super cute.

Laying my head back down on his chest, I trail my fingers across his skin, exploring him. We both sit in silence focusing on the way I'm touching him, when as predicted, my brain wonders and starts asking the hard questions. Is this what life would be like if we were in a relationship?

Just the thought of the word relationship grips me, and my pulse quickens. I glance up at Smith, his eyes are closed and the way his chest is steadily rising, I assume he's asleep.

He looks peaceful.

My brain goes back to us and if he would he even want to be in an official relationship? I mean I heard him say to my brother that he cared for me beyond just sex. Which is the whole reason I even fell into bed so quickly with him in the first place I swooned so hard when I heard him. Now, in the aftermath, instead of basking in my afterglow, I can't help but allow my insecurities to take over. Could he just have said those things about me to get in my pants? Even though logic tells me that's not true, my brain can't seem to convince my heart of anything else.

Closing my eyes, I try to rid myself of these feelings, focusing on how I need to get rest, but I can't seem to stop questions from racing through my mind. Like if we were going to be together, how is that even possible? He lives in Texas where he plays hockey; I live here. My job is here, my family is here. Smith travels most of the year for hockey. If I moved there with him and things didn't work out, I could end up stuck there.

Alone.

Every single insecurity runs through my mind, especially the one wondering if he's going to be content with only being with me for the foreseeable future. I know in order to quell some thoughts, I need to put some distance between us. To process everything and really figure out what I want before I jump any further into whatever we're doing here.

But he said he wants you for you.

My brain tries to defend Smith. I mean saying those words out loud to his best friend took guts, but I'm not sure he actually thought about how this would even work. It's all just too much.

Needing space from Smith but also needing to get up and do something and get rid of this restless energy, I quietly remove myself from Smith's chest and gingerly get out of the bed, making sure not to wake him up. Grabbing my clothes off the floor, I head to the bathroom to clean myself up before heading downstairs. When I get a glance at myself in the mirror, I can't help but cringe a bit. My hair is a giant mess sticking up all over the place, hickey's litter my chest and an uneasy feeling washes over me.

Turning away from the mirror, I bend down and pull my shirt back over my head, covering up all the marks that Smith left. Next, I wash my face before pulling my leggings and underwear back on. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven't eaten since I ran away when Smith was cooking breakfast.

Peeking out the bathroom door, I check to see if Smith is still sleeping. Once I'm satisfied that he hasn't woken up, I tiptoe down to the kitchen. Glancing at the clock, I see that it's a little after lunch, which means Smith will need to eat soon, too. Even though my mind is spiraling about being with him, I'm not a heathen and am still willing to help take care of him.

Surveying the fridge, a meal comes together in my mind. A quick spaghetti sauce with pasta will be comforting on this snowy night, I think to myself as I pull out all the ingredients I’ll need from the fridge and pantry.

Even though I'm not the best cook, the act of cooking has always centered me. Allowing me time to think.

While I'm cutting up all the vegetables for the sauce, I think about how I could make something work with Smith. While he's in Texas, traveling with the hockey team and I'm here working for the devil herself. We could always do long distance. It wouldn't be an ideal situation but it would allow sometime for us to figure out if we're compatible outside of the bedroom. Because if earlier today was anything to go by, we are very well matched in that area.

My cheeks blush thinking about how the sex with Smith was. Picking up the cutting board that has the vegetables on it, I scrape them into the hot pan on the stove. Stirring them, I think back to how a long distance relationship would work. I could always fly out for his games, and he could come here anytime he has off. As much as I don't care for my job, I’ll need to keep it. I get paid pretty well and if I'm going to be traveling to see Smith often, I'll need the money to pay for it.

Grabbing the hand blender from under the cabinet, I place it down on the counter before grabbing the large pot to boil water for the pasta. Once I'm done setting that all up, I stir all the vegetables for the sauce one last time as I turn the heat down to simmer.

Maybe I could call Kayla, Steve's wife, and stay with her when I travel to watch Smith play hockey. My hands shake when I think about all the logistics. Is Smith the type of guy who would get angry if I couldn't leave because of work? What if Frannie is a bitch again, and I get stuck here when I should be with Smith?

With these complications, would he even want to deal with being in a relationship together? Ready to finish up the sauce and pasta, I blend up the vegetables and add the pasta to the boiling water.

Once I'm done blending, I hear footsteps behind me right before big arms wrap around my waist. As he snuggles down into my neck, kissing the soft spot between my neck and shoulders, he hums. "Something smells good."

"Mmm…It's spaghetti," I say as I check the pasta. Seeing that it's ready, I step out of his arms and strain the water.

Grabbing bowls out of the cabinets, I ignore Smith's overwhelming presence as I plate up our food. Placing it down on the counter, I pull out forks and stick them in the bowls.

"It's ready if you're hungry," I mutter as I grab my food and go to sit at the breakfast table. I try not to look at Smith as he grabs his own bowl. He sits down in front of me, ensuring I that if I look anywhere else but my own bowl, I'll have to look at him. After a few minutes of eating in silence, I hear him place his fork down before asking, "Is everything okay?"

My hands begin to tremble when I place my fork down and look up at Smith. His face is so filled with concern that I can't seem to stop myself. "Are we in a relationship now? What is this?"