If You Hate Me: Chapter 24

Away games have never been my favorite. I prefer home-ice advantage to sleeping in hotel rooms. Especially lately, since Flip is still being Flip. It’s stupidly awkward now that I’m dating his sister. I often end up on Roman and Hollis’s couch. Or Dallas and Ashish’s. It’s better than trying to pretend shit isn’t going down in the bathroom or the bed next to mine.

Instead of hitting the bar after the game, I go directly to the room. Flip will be at the bar for at least a couple of hours while he trolls for tonight’s bedmate, or bedmates, so I can get in some phone time with Bea.

I fire off a text message on the way to the room to tell her I’m calling in two minutes, and when I get there, I put the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door.

I strip down to my boxers and a T-shirt on the way to the bed and hit the video button as I flop down on yet another hotel mattress.

“Hey, nice game tonight. Those two goals were magic.” Bea’s gorgeous two-dimensional image appears on the small screen in my hand.

My earbuds are close by, but I leave them out for now so I can hear what’s going on beyond our conversation. “We’re playing tight.”

“How was your day?” She’s fresh from the shower. Her hair is wet and pulled over one shoulder, the damp ends soaking into her white tank. I bet she smells fantastic. What I wouldn’t give to bury my face in her hair and smell her skin.

“Good. Better now. Yours? Did you have cake for dessert? Have you run out? Do you need me to send you another one?”

She smiles. “I did have cake for dessert. There’s still a slice left, though, so I’m good for now.”

“Are you doing that thing where you savor it so slowly it’s basically sawdust and requires half a pint of ice cream to be palatable at the end?”

She gives me the shifty eyes.

“I’m sending you another one tomorrow so you better eat up,” I warn.

“Okay. I’ll finish it.” She grins. “Tell me about the game—the highlights and the lowlights.”

I love that she talks hockey with me every night, like she gives a fuck about the actual game. Because she does. She knows it. She’s spent an inordinate amount of time sitting in arenas because of Flip.

“Highlights were the two goals,” I tell her. “Lowlights… Flip is off his game, and it cost us our lead in the second period, which I expected with us playing New York.”

“Bowman’s been a good addition to the team,” Bea says.

“Yeah. We were lucky tonight. Especially since Flip can’t keep his shit together when he’s on the ice against Grace.”

She makes a noise as she braids her hair. “Flip can’t stand him.”

“Have you even talked to him? Flip, I mean.”

She side-eyes me.

“He asks about you every day, Bea. And he’s been calling your parents more than usual, and he sought Hemi out before we left. He never does that.”

Flip is off—even when he’s not in the same arena as Grace. He’s worried about Bea. And I don’t like that I’m the reason they’re not speaking.

“I’ll talk to him when you get back from away games,” she concedes. “How’s Brody? Did they win their game tonight?”

“They did, which is great. Their team is in second place now. I think he’ll be drafted this year.”

“How do you feel about that?” Bea asks.

“Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Good, I guess. It’s what he wants. He’s professional material in the player sense.”

“But?” she presses.

“But I worry about all the other stuff. He’ll be fine with the pressure of the game. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, but he’s a lot like me.”

“That’s not a bad thing. You’re an incredible player.”

“The game play isn’t my worry.” I glance to the side and rub my lip. All the shit Flip and I got up to last year has been eating at me. I don’t want Brody to think he has to fall into that pit, and I don’t love that Bea has had to meet more than one of my previous one-night stands. Sitting on the other side of those choices, I wish I’d realized there were consequences sooner.

“The lifestyle is the issue?” she asks softly.

“I don’t know if he’s built for it. He’s a good kid.”

“Flip’s path isn’t the only one out there. Look at Roman. Hammer has been surrounded by the team her entire life. She’s been part of the family, had a tutor, been immersed in this world since she was a kid, and she’s well rounded. Roman is a great guy, and I know Hollis is a sore spot because you’re fighting for position, but he’s levelheaded and not a player.”

“He wasn’t like that in his early years,” I argue.

“For all of two years. He had a string of short-term girlfriends until he started dating that one actress. After that he settled down and focused on the game and stopped letting fame dictate his actions. Dallas has one scandalous night a season and reins it in. Flip is an anomaly, and you’ve gotten used to it. But it’s not the norm, Tristan.”

“I guess I’ve been so immersed in it the past year, it’s hard to see anything else,” I muse.

“Makes sense. But you’re on the outside looking in now, so you view it differently. He at the bar now?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’ll be there for a while?”

“Oh yeah. He’s licking his wounds from those flubbed shots on net tonight, so he’ll be looking to score off the ice. Especially with it being our last away game.” Flip typically brings home multiple partners after a bad game, like he needs to prove that he can score all the goals in some capacity. I’m not sure he realizes how transparent he is.

Bea rubs her bottom lip. “Does that mean you’ll be sleeping in Hollis and Roman’s room tonight?”

“Yeah. But he won’t be up here for a while. Is Hammer home?”

Bea shakes her head. “She’s at an event tonight with Hemi. She probably won’t be home for another hour.” She fingers the wet end of her ponytail and tips her head. “What are you thinking about over there?”

We went on another date before the away series. I have a feeling Bea would have invited me in, but Hammer was home, so I got a good-night make-out session in the hallway and a hard-to-hide boner.

“How much I’m looking forward to getting past first base with you when you’re ready.” Might as well be honest with her.

“We could get past first base right now, if you’re interested.” She circles her nipple through her damp tank.

“You mean, I watch you fuck your hand, and you watch me fuck mine?” My cock kicks in my boxer shorts.

“More fun than doing it alone, don’t you think?” Her smile turns sly, and she pulls her top over her head, discarding it on the bed. My gaze rakes over her as she shimmies out of her shorts and panties. I haven’t seen her naked in weeks. Haven’t done more than hug or kiss her. I need to earn my way back into her bed and her body after what I did the last time.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I set my phone on the holder beside the bed, angling it so she can see what I’m doing while she does the same.

“So are you.” Her fingers glide over her bare breasts, skimming her nipples on the way down. I follow the path, fisting my erection as she dips between her thighs. She takes her time, fingers pushing inside, then circling her clit. I have to stop halfway through, or I risk losing it too soon. Just before she comes, her free hand glides up her body, pausing to squeeze a breast before she wraps her fingers around her throat. Her legs tremble, and her hips roll and jerk as the orgasm sweeps over her. And I let go, too.

We’re both panting and sweaty, but at least we’re semi-sated.

“When you get home tomorrow, you can come over,” Bea says.

“Over as in…” I let that hang.

“As in, I’ll show you my bedroom.”

I wake up at three in the morning because I have to pee, and I see that Flip messaged an hour ago to let me know his friends were gone. I could go back to our room and sleep in a bed, or I can catch an early flight back to Toronto and take Bea out for breakfast. Maybe I can even convince her to take the day off. I’ve been away for almost a week. I’m not used to missing someone, and I don’t like how antsy I am about having to wait until the end of the day to see her.

Decision already made, I book a flight, get dressed, and leave a message for Flip and one for Coach to let him know I went home early. The team flight doesn’t leave for several hours.

I text Bea once I’ve boarded to let her know I’ll be home in less than two hours, and I want to take her to breakfast. She video-calls me right away. We’re still fifteen minutes from takeoff.

“I thought the team wasn’t flying back until later this morning?” Her voice is sleep raspy. It’s barely six a.m.

“They aren’t. I’m coming home early so we can have breakfast. I haven’t seen you in six days, and last night made me hungry for more of you.”

The businesswoman next to me gives me the side-eye.

“Is this because I said I’d show you my bedroom?”

“I want to see you regardless of whether I get to see your bedroom,” I say. “I’ll be back by eight. Can you go in late? Or take the day? I promise I’ll make it worth it. And not just orgasm worth it, if you decide you want me to give you some of those.”

The woman beside me makes a disapproving sound.

“I want the day with you. Just us,” I add.

Bea is quiet for a few seconds. “Jane, in marketing, went home yesterday with the flu after our morning meeting. I can always say I think I’ve come down with the same thing.”

“Yeah?” I haven’t had a whole day with Bea before. I definitely need to make it worth her while.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be at your place by eight thirty.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Two and a half hours later, I knock on Bea’s door. She’s wearing a robe.

“Hi.” I don’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi.” She steps back, and I cross the threshold.

“Is Hammer home?”

“She left for work half an hour ago.”

“Can I hug you?” I ask.

A small, surprised smile tips her mouth. “Yeah. Of course.”

I wrap my arms around her and pull her body against mine. Dropping my head, I bury my face in her hair and breathe in the scent of her shampoo. “Fuck, I missed you,” I mutter. I’ve never really been much of a hugger, but with Bea, it feels good. I want to hold her all the time.

She gives me a gentle squeeze and runs her hand up and down my back. “I missed you, too.”

We stand there for a minute, and I absorb all her warmth and goodness. The only people I’m used to caring about are my dad, my brothers, and my teammates. I’ve never allowed myself to get close to anyone else. Not like this. But I want it. I want her.

Eventually I pull back. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes, please.”

I take her face in my hands and put my mouth on hers. She parts her lips, and our tongues tangle. She tastes like mint and home and everything I need.

Her hands go to my belt and she tugs, pulling it free from the clasp.

“I don’t have expectations, Bea.”

“I know.” She pops the button, drags the zipper down. “But I’m done holding out.”

I groan as her hand slips into my pants, her fingers wrapping around my erection. “Fuck, that feels good. I missed you touching me.”

“Same.” She pulls my mouth back to hers for a few strokes of tongue. “I just need you in me, so can we save the part where you torment me and hold out on giving me an orgasm for later? Like, after you take me out for breakfast?”

“Any other time, you saying that would make me inclined to do the opposite.” I grab her ass and hoist her up. Self-control will be tough to find, but I don’t want to rush this. Not when it’s been weeks since I last put my hands on her.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist. “But not today?”

I carry her to the kitchen island, biting the edge of her jaw. “Not today.”

“Why not?”

She reaches for my cock again, but I grab her wrists and quickly pin them behind her back with one hand, then wrap my free hand around her throat. If she gets her hands on me again, I’ll lose it. And I want this to be about her. “I need to make up for last time.”

Her eyes go soft. “So touch me.”

I ghost my lips along her cheek. “Tell me where you want my hands.”

Her eyes flip open, and she licks her lips. “Anywhere. Everywhere. I just want to feel you again.”

I brush my lips over hers, release her hands and tug the tie at her waist. She’s naked under the robe. I soak in the sight of her as the fabric drops to the counter.

“I missed this,” she whispers.

“I missed this, too.” I circle her nipple with a fingertip. “Why don’t you unbutton my shirt while I show you how sorry I am for being such a dick?”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

She pulls my tie loose—even though I wasn’t flying with the rest of the team, I still wore a suit home—and pulls it over my head, then gets to work on the buttons. Her hands are shaking, so she struggles with the first two.

And I’m no help because I ease a single finger inside her and pump twice as a distraction. She whimpers when I remove it and bites her lip when I suck it clean. I add a second finger and pump twice more, repeating the same action, sucking my fingers clean before I fuck her with them. I purposely evade the spot inside that makes her eyes roll up—not to be a dick, but because it makes her orgasms more intense. It takes an eternity for her to unbutton my shirt.

When she does, I release her throat and drop to my knees so I can kiss a path up the inside of her right thigh. She runs her fingers through my hair and grips the strands. But she doesn’t try to shove my face into her pussy.

“Not gonna try to rip my hair out this morning?”

I blow on her clit, then start kissing the same path from her left knee up the inside of her thigh.

“It doesn’t usually work to my advantage.” Her toes curl against my side.

I hum in agreement. “I’m trying to hold back, but I’m too hungry for the taste of you.” I push her thighs wider and lick up the length of her.

“Oh, fuck.” Her fingers tighten in my hair and her hips roll.

“So fucking good, Bea.” I bite the inside of her thigh. I want to keep her balanced on the edge, to savor her slowly, but my need for her is overwhelming.

All it takes is a few strokes of tongue and one clit suck and she’s moaning my name as her body quakes. I stand, drag the head of my erection along her slit, and push inside. Her eyes roll up as she clenches around me. I take a moment to savor the way it feels to be with her again. How fucking lucky I am that she’s so damn forgiving.

But I don’t start moving. “Look at me, Bea. I want your eyes on me when I’m fucking you.”

They flip open, hazy and hot with need.

“That’s better.” I stroke her cheek. “Wrap your legs around me and hold on.”

She laces her fingers behind my neck and hooks her feet at the small of my back. I hold her hips and start thrusting—lazy strokes that make her moan and clench around me. But I can’t get enough of her, can’t get deep enough, close enough.

“Can I see your bedroom now?” I slide my hands under her ass.

“First door on the right.” She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my jaw.

I carry her across the apartment to her bedroom. I don’t turn her into a pretzel. Instead I stretch out on top of her and keep her wrapped around me. I go slow, taking my time, because I don’t want this to end. I want to stay here with her, in this place where we can’t get enough of each other. Where I can make her feel good. Where I can’t do something else to fuck this up.

Two hours later, Bea and I are tucked into a booth at a diner across the street from her place. She’s suggestively eating a sausage link. “Nothing beats the real thing.” She dips the end into the pool of maple syrup on her plate and nibbles it before dragging it through the syrup again. “I remember that time your dad sent you over with a huge bottle when we were kids. That was the first time I had the real stuff, and nothing else compared after that.”

I smile. “I remember that. Your pancakes were swimming in it.”

“I didn’t expect it to be so runny. I was so sad when the bottle ran out and my mom replaced it with the fake stuff. I always secretly hoped you’d bring more over some time.”

Real maple syrup costs four times as much as the fake stuff, and that was an indulgence her parents couldn’t afford. “I have a friend who has a maple farm. We could go there this afternoon if you want?” I suggest.

“It’s not harvest season, though,” Bea points out.

“They have riding trails and a bakery. We could go for a hike and buy maple candies.”

“Do you have time for that?”

“Yeah. Totally. It’ll be fun.” I want to spend time with her, hold her hand and make her smile.

We finish breakfast and drive out to my friend’s farm. On the way, my brother Nate calls.

“Hey, bro, what’s up?”

“Just checking in. You back from your away series?” he asks.

“Yeah, flew in this morning. I’m in the car. Bea’s with me, and you’re on speakerphone,” I warn.

“Bea? As in Beatrix, your best friend’s sister? The one you didn’t want me flirting with at Thanksgiving?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, this is news. Do tell, Nate.” Bea’s eyes light up.

“He said you were already involved with someone. He just failed to mention it was him.”

“Yeah, well, now you know. Besides, you have a girlfriend,” I remind him. “So you shouldn’t be flirting with other girls. Especially not mine.”

“Oh, I’m your girl now?” Bea smiles mischievously.

I stretch my arm across the back of the seat and sift through her hair. “You all right with that?”

She turns her head and kisses my wrist.

“How you doing, Rix?” Nate asks.

“I’m good. How about you?”

“Yeah. Doing all right. This semester is kicking my ass a bit,” he says.

“You okay? You need help with anything?” I can’t help him with his courses since he’s in engineering, but I can make things easier by sending him premade meals or grocery deliveries.

“Nah. I’ve got it under control. Lisa’s buried in work, though. I haven’t seen much of her the past few weeks.”

“She still planning to come this way during the holidays?” I ask.

“Hopefully, yeah. I know Dad’s really looking forward to seeing her. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Call me later, okay? We can catch up.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

I end the call.

“How long have he and Lisa been dating?” Bea asks.

“Over a year. She visited last year at the holidays.”

“Your dad said as much at Thanksgiving. He really likes her.”

“He does. And she seems good for Nate.” She was shy around me, but she seemed sweet. And into my brother.

We arrive at the farm, and I introduce Bea to my friend Carter, whose family has owned the farm for more than fifty years. Bea has never been horseback riding before, so we take her out on the trails, and afterwards Carter takes us to the maple syrup house. It’s cold today, below freezing, so they set up the maple toffee trough.

Bea jumps up and down and hugs my arm. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”

I kiss her temple. “We couldn’t come here and not have the full experience.”

She tips her head up, her smile wide and infectious and so fucking beautiful it makes my chest tight. “Thank you for this. The last time I did this, your dad took us.”

I remember, vaguely, Bea as a preteen tagging along with me, Flip, and my brothers on a few family outings. She and Nate were close to the same age, so they were likely tasked with managing Brody. I probably hadn’t paid much attention to her, but her excitement triggers a memory of her standing in the store at the end of our trip, counting out change to see if she could afford the smallest bottle of maple syrup.

She eats four maple syrup toffee sticks before we visit the store.

I put everything she gets excited about into a cart. I love seeing her like this. And she’s never self-indulgent, so I want to do it for her. I spend close to five hundred dollars on maple-infused condiments, frozen foods, and three pies.

When we get back to her place, I head for the trunk.

“What are you doing?” She frowns as I hand her a couple of bags.

“This stuff is for you—except for one apple custard pie. I plan to eat the entire thing later tonight and have serious regrets when it makes me feel like puking.”

“That sounds like my relationship with refried beans.” She grabs the front of my shirt and suctions her face to mine. It goes on long enough that my body starts to react in inconvenient ways. She breaks the kiss before it becomes an embarrassing problem.

I smile down at her. “What was that for?”

“For being sweet.”

“You might change your mind about my sweetness factor when I fuck your mouth later.”

She grins. “Want me to make gagging sounds and get really sloppy about it?”

“Why are you so damn perfect?” I feel like I’ve been missing out all these years. I’ve never spent a day hanging out with someone I’m seeing. But this is Bea. I’ve known her most of my life. It feels…normal. Right. Like something I want to do more of, with or without the sex. And that’s a serious first.

“We should get this stuff upstairs.” She closes the trunk for me. “I don’t think Hammer will be home from work for another hour or so. Lots of time to gargle your balls.”

It’s a good thing we’re not alone in the elevator on the way up to her apartment or she’d probably make it hard for me not to embarrass myself in the hallway.

Five seconds after we walk in the door, Bea gets a call from Essie. “Let me tell her I’ll call her back, okay?”

“Sure thing.” I start to unpack all the maple nonsense.

She puts her on speakerphone. “Hey, bestie!”

“Hey, babe, I’ve missed your gorgeous face,” Essie says by way of greeting.

“So much same. When will they develop teleportation so I can see you whenever I want?”

“Just move out here and you won’t need teleportation skills. The winters are so much less frigid in Vancouver.”

“So tempting. I could really live without the minus-thirty temps and four months of snow. Listen, can I call you back in a bit? Tristan’s here.”

I don’t love that I’m standing right here and she’s talking about moving across the country. Especially not after the day we’ve had. Here I am, feeling like for the first time in my life I want more out of this with her, but I can’t compete with her friendship with Essie. They’re tight, and it’s really cool that they have each other. But there’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I’ll do something stupid and mess up this good thing I’ve got going. That’s usually how it goes. And she’s already left once. She could do it again.

Suddenly I feel a little panicky. “You know what? I didn’t realize what time it was. I need to get in a workout, and I have a game strategy meeting with Flip and Dallas. You catch up with Essie.”

“Hold on a sec, Es.” She lowers her phone. “I thought I was supposed to gargle your balls and choke on your cock?”

“You forgot to mute yourself,” Essie says.

“Sorry.” Bea wrinkles her nose and hits the mute button. “Seriously, you don’t have to go.”

“Save it for next time. I’ll talk to you later.” I move toward the door, but Bea grabs my wrist.

“Thanks for today. I had a great time.” She pushes up on her toes and kisses my cheek.

“Me too.” I manage a smile, but I don’t make a move to kiss her back.

Even though I want to.

Fear propels me out the door. What the fuck am I thinking?

I don’t want to go, but this is more than I can handle right now.