ChapterOne
FIVE YEARS AGO
WhatkindofassholewoulddumphisfiancéeviaFaceTimeminutesbeforetheirweddingceremonywasabouttobegin?
Thatwasn’tthekindofquestionAstridO’Malleyhadeverthoughttoaskherself especiallynotwhenherbestfriendwas fasteningtheeighty-twomillionbuttonsgoingupthebackofAstrid’sweddingdress,whichhadn’tbeenwornsincehermom walkeddowntheaisle
Shehadn’tconsidereditwhenshe’dliftedhermimosaglassandblinkedbacktears nevertrustwaterproofmascaraagainst thepowerofbridaltears whenherdadendedhispre-ceremonytoastbytellingherthathermomwaswithherinspiritand wouldbesoproudofthewomanshe’dbecome
Ithadn’tevenbeenaflickerofanideawhenTigJones’sfacehadpoppeduponherphonescreenasanincomingFaceTime call Insteadofanuneasyfeelingofoh-fucktakingherstomachdowntohertoes,she’ddippedintotheattachedbathroomofthe New Orleans’First Methodist’s SundaySchool classroom, where the bridal partywas doinglast-minute makeup touchups. Holdinghermillion-mileveil(goingbywhatherdadhadtoldhergrowingupandthepicturesshe’dseen,restrainthadnever beenhermom’sstyle),she’dpoppedinherearbudsasshestoodinfrontofthechild-sizesinkandaimedherphonecameraat themirrorthatonlycapturedherfromtheboobsdownbeforehittingjoincall.
Shesether glassdownonthecounter,accidentallyonpurposeleaningforwardtogiveTigabetterview ofhow goodher boobslookedinthisdress,andasked,“Ifyoucan’tseemyface,thatdoesn’tcountasreallyseeingme,right?”
Hockey players were a superstitious bunch something that had definitely rubbed off on Astrid, since she’d practically grownuprink-sideasherdadmovedfromjobtojob,culminatingwithhiscurrentstintastheCajunRage’sheadcoach.There wasnoreasontojinxherandTig’smarriagebeforeitbeganbyignoringtheoldwives’talethatitwasbadluckforthegroom toseethebridebeforethebigevent.
WhenTigdidn’tanswer,shecrossedherfingerstowardoffanycursesandlookeddownatherscreen.
Shecouldonlyseehersoon-to-behusbandfromthewaistup,butitwasenoughtoknockherkneesout Astridwentdown hard,herasslandingontheveryshort(andthankfullyclose-lidded)kiddietoilet.
Insteadofthetuxhe’dpickedoutfortheirwedding,TigwaswearingablueT-shirtwithaHarborCityIceKnightshockey logoonitandabaseballcappulleddownlowonhisface.HerbrainwastryingtoworkoutwhytheCajunRage’sstargoalie wouldbewearingtheteam’sarchnemesis’smerchwhensherealizedhewassittinginfrontofawindowoverlookingtheNew Orleans’airporttarmac Realizationsuckedtheairoutofherlungslikeasouped-upShop-Vac He wasn’t coming.
“Astrid,babe,IwishthedealtheIceKnightsofferedmetoplayforthemhadn’tbeensogood,butitis Ihadtotakeit,”Tig said as a single, perfectly timed tear slid down his cheek. “The catch is I have to leave today. Right now. They want me betweenthepipesfortomorrow’sgame Myflightboardsinhalfanhour”
Therewereamillionthoughtssheshouldhavebeenhavingatthatmoment,butherbrainwasstuckonbuffering,andtheonly thingthatgotthroughwastherealizationthatunlikeTig,Astridwasnotaprettycrier.
ThetipofhernoseturnedredenoughthatshecouldhavetakenRudolph’sjob Herfacewentblotchyandstayedthatwayfor atleasthalfanhour.Andshecouldnever,everstophernosefromrunning,whichwasexactlywhatshewantedwhenthatone sadsongfromthestupidtoys-come-alivemoviecameoverthegrocerystorespeakerswhenshewasPMSinghardenoughto depletetheworld’sstrategicchocolatereserves.
Tig, onthe other hand, looked like someone who had squeezed a few drops ofVisine into his eyes and thenadded a soft glowfiltertothevideocall.
“I’msosorry.Inevermeantforthistohappen.”Hewipedthesingletearawaywiththebackofhishandandaimedashaky smileatthecamera “YouknowIloveyou”
Thewordscamethroughmuffled,asifthey’dhadtogothroughacoupleoffeetofstuffing,whichseemedtobewrappedso tightaroundherthatitwasimpossibleforhertofeelorsayanything She’dneverreallygottenthemeaningbehindthephrase “frozenlikeadeer intheheadlights”before,butnow shedid andifshewas thatdoeonthehighwayfacingdownaMack truck,she’dhavebeenroadkillforsure.
Itwasfuckingridiculous.
Here she was, wearing her dead mother’s wedding gown and doing her best stump-on-a-log impression, while several hundred people includingthe entire roster, front office, and coachingstaff of the CajunRage hockeyteam waited inthe churchforthefirststrainsof“HereComestheBride”
SheshouldbereadingTigtheriotact.Sheshouldbeplottingarevengesoepicfolksongs wouldbewrittenaboutit.She shouldberagingorcryingorflippingthefuckout Instead,shewasfrozeninthemoment OnlyTigJonescoulddothistoher.
OnlyTigJoneshad ever beenabletodothistoher
“Inevermeanttomessthingsup,”hesaid,hisvoiceshakingjusttheslightestbit.“Youhavetobelieveme.”
HowoftenhadsheheardthatfromTigsincetheyfirststarteddating?
Amilliontimesatleast
“You’renotsayinganything,andyoualways havesomethingtosay,”Tigsaid,sinkinglower intohis seatattheDeltaSky Lounge and shovinghis baseball cap farther downas ifthatwould help the guywho was supposed to be the CajunRage’s goaliefortherestofhiscareergounrecognized.“Please,”hepleaded,“saysomething.”
Forwhatmayhavebeen probablywas thefirsttimeinherlife,shecouldn’t “Astrid,”Tigsaid,jostlingthephoneinhis handashegotupsoall shesaw for asecondwasaplaneonthetarmacbeforehepointedthecamerabackathimselfashe startedpacing.“Ijust ”
There were more words;Astrid knew there were because she could see Tig’s mouthmoving, butshe didn’thear a single solitarysyllablebecausesomethinginsidehercracked.Everythingthathadbeenmutedandmovingatthespeedofaslothstuck inmolassesbrokefreeandcamerushingather thebone-deephurt,therawanger,theicycertaintythateverything(including her)hadchangedforever.Itallslammedagainstherchestandknockedtheshockrightoutofher.
“Shutup,Tig,”shesaid,relievedtofindhervoice,evenifithadthatscratchytightnessthatusuallyprecededawholelotof tearsfromfrustration.
Tigknewherwellenoughtoknowwhatthattonemeant,andhisblueeyeswentwide.
“Iknowyou’remad,”hesaid “Igetit ButIcan’tgetmarriedrightnow I’llonlybeabletoplayhockeyforsolongbefore injuryoragesendsmeintoretirement.Wehaveourwholelivesaheadofustogetmarried,havekids,andwhatever,butthe hockeyclockisalreadytickingdownonme”
Whatever.Didhereallyjustsaymarried,kids,andwhatever?Likethelifetheywereplanningtohavetogether wasjusta shrugofawhatever?
Whatever?!?
Anger blottedouther visionfor asecondas shetriedtoprocess whatinthefuckwas happening.Shehadn’tbeentheone who’d pushed to get married Nor had she been the one who’d talked about how cute their kids would be And she most definitely had not been the one who’d insisted on a huge church wedding with photographers from Entertainment fucking Weekly documentingeverymoment
Shesuckedinabreathandblinkedher visionclear until shecouldonceagainseethemanshe’dthoughtshewasgoingto marry.Hewasstillrunninghismouth.“Stop.Talking.Tig.”
Her ice-cold tone should have gotten the message through, but it didn’t Tig continued, holding the mic of his plug-in headphonesclosetohismouthasheplowedforward.
“Astrid,babe,”hesaid,histonesoobnoxiouslycalmandreasonable “Ihavetofocusahundredpercentonmygamenow thatI’vegottenthisIceKnightscontract.You’reacoach’skid ofcourseyouunderstand.”
Herlefteyestartedtotwitch,andhergriponthephonetighteneduntilthetipsofherfingersturnedwhite Fucking.Hockey.
If it hadn’t been a part of her life since her dad popped a mini-puck in her mouth instead of a teething ring, she’d hate anythingthathadtodowithiceskates,vulcanizedrubber,andpenaltyboxes
“Andit’snotlikeyoucanmovetoHarborCitywithme.YouhavetostayforyourjobwiththeRage,”hecontinued.“You knowyourdadwouldbelostwithoutyou Ican’tdothattoCoach”
Astridalmostdroppedherphoneshewassotakenabackbyhiswords. Hecouldn’tdothattoCoach? To.Coach.
Disbeliefandangerswirledthroughher,kickingherheartintooverdrivesomuchthatshecouldhearherpulseinherears likeadullroar Hewasjiltingher,buthedidn’twanttohurtherdad?
IfAstridwasn’tsopissedshecouldn’tformwords,Tig’searswouldbeburningrightnowfromastringofcursesinamixof Czech, Russian, Swedish, and English, alongwithsome FrenchCanadianslangthrowninfor good measure She’d learned aboutmorethanhipchecksandhowtofireofftheperfectslapshotfromtheguyswho’dplayedonherdad’steams,becausethe rinkhadbeenhisversionofanafter-schoolprogram.
As itwas, though, Tighad shocked her backinto total silence for the second time inthe pasthalfhour. Itliterallywas a record.
“Astrid?!Canyouhearme?”heyelledintothemic.“I’mgoingtofuckingflipifthisfuckingcallgotdropped.”
Hecontinuedtohollerintoherearbudsasshepulledherselftogether,catchingsightofherselfinthekid-heightmirrorasshe satontheclosedtoiletlidwithhershouldersslumpedandspinecurvedforward ShelookedliketheHalloweenversionofa hauntedbride.Hermascarahadrun.Hercheekswereredandblotchy.Astrandofhairhadcomefreefromthebobbypinsand stuckstraightout Plus shehadaglass-eyedstarethatdefinitelygaveoffpossiblezombievibes Shelookedbedraggledand unhinged soprettymuchexactlylikeshefeltontheinside.
Someonepoundedonthebathroomdoor,yankingherattentionawayfromherreflection “Honey,areyouokay?”herdadasked,hisdistinctCanadianaccentcomingthroughthechurch’ssimplehollow-wooddoor asifhewastalkingthroughamegaphone.“Idon’twanttoworryyou,Button,butnoonecanfindTig.Doyouknowwherehe is?”
Sheopenedhermouth,butstillnothingcameout.Notevenasqueakforhelp.AndTig atthesoundofherdad’sbellow hadfinallysmartenedupenoughtoshuthistrap
“Button,”herdadsaidwithawearysigh.“It’sgoingtobeallright.I’llfindhim.”
Tigflinchedonherscreen “MakesureCoachknowsIhatedhavingtodothis”
AnothersingletearsliddownTig’scheek aneffectheruinedbydoingaquickchin-liftgreetingandwinkatsomeoneoff camerawhoholleredacrosstheSkyLounge,“Jonesy!We’llmissyouontheRage!”
Helookedbackatthecamera,notbotheringtowipeawaythetearthistime “Ireallyamsorry,Astrid”
Thenhe hungup, his tearful face replaced onher screenbya picture fromher eighth-grade Sadie Hawkins dance, when she’d finally worked up the courage to ask Tig to be her date They were both in braces and wearing what now were embarrassinglycringyoutfits butbackthenwere the absolute must-haves. She had a hockeypuck–shaped wristcorsage. He wasalreadyworkingongrowinghisblondmullet,theflowthatwouldbecomehissignaturelook.Theywerelookingateach otherasifthewholeworldwastheirsandtheyweregoingtoconquerittogether.
Thathad beenthe beginningofitall. Sure, she’d gone outondates now and thenwithother guys, butithad never meant anything She’dfalleninlovewithTigJoneswhenshewastwelveyearsold,andnomatterwhathadhappenedbetweenthem, shehadneverfallenoutoflovewithhim.
Well,thatendednow Thismoment.
Thisveryfuckingbreath.
Astridballeduphermother’sveilinherhandandlockedeyesonherreflection.Todaywassupposedtobeadayforsolemn vows,anditsureashellwasstillgoingtobe.Staringrightatherowntear-stainedface,AstridO’Malleysworetoherselfon all that she held dear that she was officially and forever done with the craptastic trinity of men, love, and stupid fucking hockey.
D
O. N. E Done.
Andthat’s exactlywhatshe was goingto tell everyone crowded into the pews whenshe marched outintothatchurchand toldthemtheweddingwasoffandthatTigJoneswasacompleteandutterasshole.
ChapterTwo
PRESENT DAY
Sure,thesignoutsideoftheWaterburybarsaidthePenaltyBox,butCalMatsenknewhewasactuallyinhell. Evenworse,he couldn’tevengeta beer ata fuckingsports bar because itwas sodamncrowded The space betweenthe cornerboothwherehewassittingandthebarwashipstoelbowswiththreekindsofpeople.
One, tourists who made the trekacross the bridge to WaterburyfromHarbor Citybecause some travel app said the bar ownedbyanow-retiredIceKnightsdefensemanandfuturehockeyhalloffamer,ZachBlackburn,wasamust-see.
Two,diehardhockeyfanswhoactedasiftheywerehavingareligiousexperienceastheystaredatthewallscoveredinteam memorabilia and tried to work up the courage to approach the handful of past and current players around Cal who were shootingtheshit.
Three,armchairgeneral managerswhothoughttheyknew morethanthepeopleactuallypaidtodothejob Theseassholes weren’tafraidoftellingeverysingleoneoftheirhockey-relatedthoughtsveryloudly.
Itwasthekindofplacethatmadethefour-inchjaggedscaronCal’srightthighthrobandhismoodgodark.Hefuckinghated hockeybars,andheneverwouldhavesetfootinthisplaceifhehadn’tbeenforcedbythatgiantassholeBlackburn.
“Forfuck’ssakeCali,anotherbeeriscoming.”Blackburnscannedthesportsbar.Nodoubthewaslookingforhiswife,who hecouldn’tbeapartfromforlongerthansixbreaths “Youcanstopmakingthatpissyface” “I’mnotmakingaface,”Calmuttered.“Itjustis myface.”
“Fuckingunfortunate,”Blackburnsaidwithagrin
“You’retellingme,”Calsaid,someofthetensioninhisshoulderseasing.Trashtalkingwasfamiliarandwelcometerritory. “I’mtheonewhohastoseeiteverytimeIshave.”
“Highlyrecommendyougowithabeard.”
Cal had a beard once, well, as good as he could grow duringhis firstand onlyplayoffruntwo years ago withthe Cajun Rage Hehadn’tlikeditthen,andthatwasn’tgoingtochangenow
“Theyitch,”hegrumbledashewatchedthehockeygameplayingononeofthetenscreenswithinhisview. “It’s always somethingwithyou Never satisfied Almost makes me feel sorryfor Jonesy Nah, I take that back The kid deserveswhateveryou’reabouttosendhisway.”Blackburnscowled.“Whatwereyouthinkingsayingyestothatjob?Evenif it’s only for the rest of the season, that’s more time thanI’d want to ever spend again withTig fuckin’Jones. The kid’s a jackass TheabsolutepurefuckingjoyIfeltatthethoughtofneverhavingtoplaywithhimagainmayhavebeenthelastpushI neededtoofficiallyretire.”
Cal didn’t need to be reminded about Tig Jones’s less-than-charming personality Everyone knew about it There were magazine cover stories and social media fanaccounts documentinghis assholery or eccentricities, dependingonwho was talking And it was now Cal’s job to be a goalie whisperer to the giant prickwho had gone fromthe best inthe league to someonewhocouldn’tstopashotfromhisgrannyusingalimpspaghettinoodleinsteadofahockeystick.
LuckyfuckingCal.
But the thing was most goalies were high-strung weirdos He should know; he’d been one Goalies were superstitious, temperamental,andslightlyunhinged.Theywereannoyinglycalmuntiltheyweren’t,andthentheGatoradebottlesittingonthe back of the net felt their fury They were more than a little intense and had earned their collective reputation as hockey’s misfits.Theywereabreedapart.Theyhadtobe.Theyweretheplayerontheicewhowillinglygotintoanetwherethey’ddo whateverittooktostopafrozenrubberdiskcomingatthematahundredmilesperhourfromcrossingthegoalline including takingthatpucktothehelmetifthat’swhatwasneeded.
“It’snotjustgoalies,”Calgrumbled,stickingupforhisfellowoddballs.“Allhockeyplayersarejackasses.” Blackburnrolledhiseyes “ThisisthelasttimeI’minvitingyououtforabeer” “Invite?”Calscoffed.“Youandthatscaryfuckingwifeofyourspracticallykidnappedme.” “Maybeifyouweren’tsuchahermitsinceyoumovedtoHarborCity,Iwouldn’thaveto,”Blackburnsaidashescannedthe crowdforhiswife,hisentirefacetransformingthesecondhespottedhercuttingherwaythroughthecrowdtotheirtable. Inthatmoment,Blackburnwentfromgrizzlybeartogummybear.Ifhewasanotherkindofguy,Calmighthavethoughtitwas cuteorsomesuchtouchy-feelyshit.Fuck,hemighthaveevenbeenjealous.
Buthewasn’tsomeotherguy.HewasCalShould’ve-Been-One-of-the-Hockey-GreatsMatsen,andhehadonelastchanceto kindasortabeinthegameagain.
No,teachingsomepunkhow topull hisheadoutofhisownasswasn’tanywhereclosetogettingbetweenthepipesagain andshuttingdownawristshotwhenthegamewasontheline,butitwasascloseashewasgoingtoget.Herubbedhislegthat wasachinglikeasonofabitch Liferarelygavesecondchances,andthistimehewasn’tabouttolethockeyslipoutofhis graspagain.
Notafterwhathadhappenedbefore Onebeerandthreefansaskinghimifhewas that CalMatsenlaterandhewasonthetrainheadedacrossthewaterandback intoHarbor City.He gotoffthe trainandwalkedthe three blocks tohis building,the bottomfloor ofwhichwas The Flying Sow Pub Hepausedandlookedatthesignonthedoor Hisfridgewasempty,anditpromisedcheeseburgers Perusual,his stomachmadethedecision.Hepivotedandheadedinside.
TherewerefiveTVsonclosedcaptioning,andthankfucknoneofthemweretunedintohockey He’dhadenoughoftheishe-that-guy-who-had-the-thing-happen-during-that-playoff-game looks for one night. Four of the screens were showing football,andthelastonehadonarerunofsomerealityshowweddingoutinWyomingthathadsuckedhismomandsistersin overthesummer.
Calsatdownatthebarandmadeeyecontactwiththebartender,ashortanddeliciouslythickbrunettefillingtwopints.She didaquickchinjerkofacknowledgmentandthensetthedrinksdowninfrontofaguyinanIceKnightshatandanemptychair thatpresumablybelongedtotheguystandinginfrontofthejukeboxnexttothebar.
The guy punched in some numbers on the machine and sauntered over to the empty barstool, a smirk plastered on his punchable face. What made it a target? Cal couldn’t say, just aninstinct that had always served himwell whenit came to knowingwherethenextshotwascomingfrom.
Thebartender really,herhairwasmoreblackthanbrownandpulledintosomekindofbraidthatwentdownherbacklike anarrow pointingto her verysmackable ass turned and started toward Cal. Butthenthe firstfive notes ofa sappyTaylor SwiftsongaboutRomeoandJulietcameoutofthespeakers Thebartender’seyesnarrowedhalfasecondbeforeshewhipped aroundandmarchedovertothejukebox.Sheyankedthepowercordout,cuttingthesongmid-lyric.Thetwodipshitsatthebar chuckledintotheirpintsasifthey’djustplayedtheultimateprank
ThebartenderglaredatthemenandthenmadeherwaydowntotheendofthebarwhereCalsat.
“WhatcanIgetyou?”sheaskedasshelaidacardboardcoasterdowninfrontofhim. “Cheeseburgerandextrafries.”
“Sorry,”shesaidwithasympatheticwince,“kitchen’sclosed.”
Andtothinkheusedtohavethebesttimingintheleague “Whattimediditclose?”
Sheglancedbehindheratthetwoguysatthebar,whosegesturingwasincreasingalongwiththeirvolume,thenlookedback athimandsaid,“Threeyearsago” Somuchfortruthinadvertising.
“CanIgetyouadrink?”sheasked.
Fuckit “Sure Whateverstoutyou’vegotinabottle”
Shenodded,walkedovertothecooler,andgrabbedabeerbeforepausinghalfwaybackandsnagginganunopenedsnacksizebagofCheetosfrombesidetheregister
Shesetbothdowninfrontofhim.“Don’twantyoustarving.”
Theyweren’tflaminghot,buttheywerebetterthanthesleeveofsaltinesoruncookedpastaupstairs “Appreciateit”
Sheopenedhermouthtosaysomething,butthetwoguysattheotherendofthebarpickedthatmomenttogetreallyloud. “Areyoufuckingkiddingme?”complainedtheguywiththeshaggyblondhair.“TheKnightsjustneedtotradehimandbe donewithit”
Thebartender’sjawtightenedbeforeshegaveCalatightsmile.“Hollerifyouneedanything.”
Then,withoutwaitingforhisanswer,sheturnedaroundandwalkedovertowherethetwomencontinuedtomanagetheIce Knightsfromthecomfortoftheirbarstools.Shegrabbedagallon-sizeglassjarfilledwithdollarbillsandploppeditdownin frontofthemen
“Youknow the rules,” she said, the tone ofher roughalto voice and annoyed setofher jaw telegraphingclearlythatshe meantbusiness.“Fivebucks.Each.”
Onemanglared,buthepulledhiswalletoutofhispocketandfishedoutafivethathestuffedinthejar Whentheshaggyhairedguydidn’tmakeamove,thebartendercrossedherarmsandglaredathim.
“WhobesidesTheohereevencarriesaroundcashanymore?”theguyasked,soundingaspetulantasateenagerwho’djust gottengrounded.
Thebartendershruggedherrightshoulder.“Notmyproblem.”
“Well,Idon’thaveanycashonme,”hesnarledbeforetakingadrinkofhispint.
“GuessI’lladdittoyourtab,then,”shesaid,givingasmuchattitudeasshewasgetting.“Youfuckaroundonmyshiftand
you’llalwaysfindout.”
“This is the dumbest thing and coming from you of all people.” He smacked his pint down, sending some of the beer sloshing over the side onto the otherwise pristine bar “This is a hockey town,” he said, getting louder with each word “EveryonetalksabouttheIceKnights.”
Theman,hischeeksredwithanger,shotupfromhisstoolandcrowdedthebarallpuffedchestandbullshit Theguyhada solidfootonher,butshedidn’tevenflinch.
“Notduringmyshift,”shesaid “Youtalkhockey,youputafiverinthejar” “Thisisbullshit,Astrid.Ihaverights.”Hesmackedhispalmdownonthebar.“I’mnotgonnaletsomebossylittlebi ” Caldidn’tthink.
Hedidn’tformulateaplan
Hewasjustsittingwatchingtheshowontheinhale,andontheexhalehewasontheotherendofthebarwithhislefthandto thebackoftheasshole’shead,holdinghischeekfirmagainstthewoodashetwistedtheman’sarmbehindhisback “Whateveryou’reabouttosaynextbetterstartwith‘I’msorry’ifyouknowwhat’sgoodforyou,”Calbitout.That’swhen thestickerontheglassjarcaughthiseyeandmadehimsmiledespitethecircumstances “Andthenyou’regoingtoagreetoadd twentydollarstothe‘FuckHockey’jar.”
ChapterThree
Astridbelievedwithher wholeheartthattherewas onethingintheworldthatwouldmostefficientlyandeffectivelytanka person’sopinionofhumanity.
Surprisingly,itwas not gettingdumpedatthealtar
It was working in customer service especially when the son of the owner was your manager, your landlord, and your biggestnightmarecustomer.
AstridreallyneededtostoptakingNola’sshiftsatthepub Shehadawholeotherjobasapersonalorganizermanagingthe livesofHarborCity’srichandchaotic.Fine,shedidn’tparticularlylovearrangingstrangers’lives,butatleastitwasn’tlike thebeforetimeswhenshedidthatjobforanentirehockeyteam
Thatwasonejobshe’dnever,evertakeagainbecause,asthejarsaid,fuckhockey.
Shehadn’twatchedagameortalkedtoherdadabouthowcoachingwasgoing(beyondthebasicsof“How’swork?Good? Good.”)inthefiveyearssincehernon-wedding.
Ithadbeenfuckingglorious.
Also,glorious?
SeeingAndythedipshitgethiswhatforfromthehotguywho’dcomeinwantingacheeseburger.Forgetaknightinshining armor;she had a hangrydefender one withdark, wavyhair, biceps thatmade her bite downonher lip,and intense brown eyesthatdidn’tevenhaveahintoflaughlinesaroundthem.Itwasn’tthathewasn’toldenoughfor them,butitwasasifhe neversmiled Notevenalittle Notevenasmirk Notevenafterhe’dhadtwocheeseburgersandamaltedchocolateshakethat he’ddippedhisfriesin.
Andy squirmed against the bar, but her grump who must have parked his white horse in front of the bar didn’t relent a millimeter
Itwasmarvelous. Andwrong Also?Sofuckinghot. Wassheturnedonbythiscavemanbullshit?
Nipples?Perked.
Panties?Damp.
Thighs?Clenching
Yep,shewasdefinitelyturnedonbyherself-proclaimedbodyguardinapinkcrewnecksweaterwiththesleevespushedup sohewasshowingoffhisdeliciously(andcurrentlyhardworking)sinewyforearms Oh,Mama Ifshekeptstaringathisarms, shewasgoingtohavetoreevaluatethestatusofherpanties.
Andy,shitheadthathewas,interruptedhertripdownfantasylane.“Whothefuck ” The protector ofher totallyunbothered honor yanked Andy’s twisted armup halfaninchhigher. “Someone is notgood at followingdirections.”
Andywincedandnotintheplayingitupkindofwayandlostsomeofthecolorinhisperpetuallyruddycheeks Shit. Enjoyableasitwastoseethelittlejerklikethis,herbestieNolawouldkillAstridifherannoyingcousinendedupwitha dislocatedshoulder.
Astrid reached outand laid her hand onher growlyguardian’s fine-as-fuckforearm. Immediately, the pressure onAndy’s armvisiblyrelented,butthemandidn’treleasehishold
“DoIneedtotellyouagainonlyusingsmallerwordsyourbraincanunderstand?”themansnarledatAndy. Heaskeditintheformofaquestion,butitsureashellwasn’tone notevenclose Andifitwas,shedoubtedtherewere wordsteeny-tinyenoughforAndyanyway.
“Astrid,”Andygroaned,“calloffyourgoon”
This was whenshe shouldhave thankedher absolutelydelicious defender andaskedhimtolether annoyingboss go.She reallyshould.Thewordswererightthereonthetipofhertonguewhentherinkbratinsideherrushedtothesurface.
She’d always identified with the shit disturbers, the chippers, the ones who pushed things just right to the edge (and
sometimesover).ShemaynotgetwithinfivemilesofaZambonianymore,butoldhabitsdiedhard.
So instead ofsayingwhatshe should, she sether elbows onthe bar and rested her chininher hands so she could better committheagonizedexpressiononAndy’sfacetomemory “Ican’tcallhimoff” Andynarrowedhiseyesasmuchashecouldatthemoment,whichwasquiteafeatconsideringtherewasahandsquishing hisfacetothebar “Howcome?”
“He’s notmygoon.Infact,Idon’tknow him.” Butshe was planningtochange thatas soonas her shiftwas over andshe couldstriphimofeverystitchofclothinghehadon Shemightwanthimtokeepthatpinksweateron,though Thatcontrastof softandhardreallyflippedherswitch.“Also,Ikindofenjoyseeingtheguywhoswearsheisn’tthereasonwhythetipjaris alwaysalittlelighthavingdifficulties.”
DidherchampionpressasmidgeharderagainstAndy’scheekatthatmoment?Andyletoutalittleyelp Well,thatanswered thatquestion.
“Iswearonmymother’sgrave,”Andysaid,“itwasn’tme”
“Asolidpledge,exceptIknowyourmomisstillaliveandisusuallyasannoyedwithyouastherestofus,”shesaid.“Tell youwhat,whydon’tyoujustdowhatthescarymansaidandapologize?Thenwe’llforgetallaboutthis” “Fine,”hesaidwithahuff.“I’msorry,Astrid,foralmost butnotactually callingyouanot-nicename.”
Herveryownpaladindidn’tletgo,butheliftedaneyebrowinquestionbeforeshakinghisheadasifinhisopinionthatsadass excuse for anapologydidn’tevenbeginto cover it Onthat, theywere agreed She looked backdownatsquashed-face Andy.
“Buttheonlyreasonwhyyoudidn’tcallmeabitchwasbecausethesexyguyinthesoftsweaterstoppedyou”Sheglanced upatthestranger.“Isitsoft?Itreallylooksit.”
“Yeah,”themansaid.
Shereachedout,stoppingshortofhischest.“MayI?”
Hegrunted.
Takingthatasayes,shepressedherpalmtohissternum,andohmyGod,thesweaterwassoftandhischestwasvery,very, verymuchnot.Themanwas solid.Butitwasn’tlikeazero-percentbodyfat,gym-ratkindofno-giverigiditythatmadeher think of high-protein diet farts and pushup contests Nope, this was the I-have-shit-to-do-with-my-life kind of brawn of someonewhomayspendsometimeatthebenchpressbutdidn’tlivethere.
Lumberjack-cutting-down-redwoodsburliness.
Cowboy-tossing-bales-of-haypower.
Bouncer-throwing-assholes-out-on-their-earstrength.
Inotherwords,totallyAstrid’scatnip
ForgettingaboutAndy,hisuselessbuddyatthebar,andtherestoftheThursdaynightregularsatTheFlyingSow Pub,she flippedthroughhermentalfilesofjusttherightpickuplineforhersexy(ifmisguided)knightonamission Shereallyneeded tofinishthisexaminationofhissweatersomewheremoreprivate.
God knew she had a whole stackofcome-ons thatshe’d beenusingduringthe pastfive years ofmakingup for losttime beingonlywiththedickwhoshallnotbenamed Sheneededsomethingstraightforward,somethingbold,something Shegotit.
Her lipswerealreadyformingthefirstwordwhenhisgazecaughthers Her mindwentblankimmediatelyattheshockof howhewaslookingather asifhewantedtoeatherupinthebestwaypossiblerighthere,rightnow,whoeverwaswatching bedamned
Aaaaaaaaaand that wasendgameforherpanties.
Startledintomovement,shepulledher handbackfromhis chest.Her fingertips tingledandher brawas suddenlywaytoo tight
Heglanceddownatthespotwhereshe’dpressedherpalmtohischest,andalookofconfusionflickeredacrosshisface. “Okay,ifyoutwoaredoneeyefucking,”Andysaidasifhewasn’ttheguybeingforcedtoface-plantonthebar “CanIget upnow?”
Astridcockedherheadandscruncheduphermouthasifshewasreallythinkingaboutit Yeah,theyallknewhowthiswas goingtoend,butshewaspettyenoughtowanttodragitoutalittlelonger. Inhale.
Exhale
Openmouthasiftospeak.
Closemouth
Tapchin.
Wasthataslightupwardtiltofherprotector’slips?
Werethosebutterfliesperformingaerialacrobaticsinherstomach? “Astrid,”Andygrumbled.
Fine.
ShelookeddownatNola’sjerk-facecousinandsmiled itwasn’taniceone andthenlockedeyeswithhermysteryman. “Thankyouforthisverythoroughdemonstrationofwhathappenswhenyou’reajackass,butyoushouldgoaheadandlethim go.I’msureAndyhaslearnedhislesson.”
Herwatchdoginhumanformdidn’tlookconvinced Hereleasedhisgripbutdidn’tstepback Instead,hestoodhisground armscrossed,glareonpoint asAndydidhisbesttositupwithoutevencomingclosetobrushingagainsttheotherman.
Shedidn’tblamehim,eventhoughAstridwasalreadytryingtothinkofallofthedifferentwaysshewantedtobedoingalot morethanbrushingupagainsthim.Infivepointsixseconds,shealreadyhadmoreideasthancouldbecompletedinthespanof herusualone-and-donetimeframe unless,ofcourse,hehadkillerstamina.
Shebethedid
Themanshewasdoingverydirtythingswithinherimaginationgaveherasearchinglook.“Yougood?” “Absolutelyfabulous”Andhornyashell
Henodded,shotonelastdeathglareAndy’sway,andthenwentbacktohisendofthebarwherehisbarelytouchedpintwas waitingforhim
Didshewatchhimwalkaway?
Shesureashelldid.
Whenamanhadanassthatfilledoutapairofjeansthatperfectlyandthighsthatwerethickenoughtoputhisseamstothe test,attentionhadtobepaid.
God,shereallywasamess NexttimeNolaaskedhertocoverhershiftatthebar,shewasgoingtosayno Okay,thatwasalie.Astridknew thesituation.Nola’saunthadthepubupforsale,andthatmeantall thebartenderswere fleeingformoresecureemployment.ThatmeantNolawasworkingdoublethenumberofshiftsshenormallywould.Andthat meantAstridcoveredforhersoshecouldhaveararenightoffbecausethat’sjustwhatfriendsdid.Nolaandthethirdintheir bestfriend trinity, Thea, had beenthere for her after the debacle ofher almostweddingday, and she’d always be there for them
Rideordie or,inthiscase,rideandpourpints.
Andysatinhis seatand sulked while his buddykepthis attentionfocused solelyonhis beer Meanwhile, Astrid couldn’t stopsneakinglooksovertotheotherendofthebarwherehermuscledherosatscrollinghisphone.Yeah,staringwasn’tpolite, butshe’dbasicallygrownupinonehockeylockerroomoranother,andthathadn’texactlybeenetiquetteschool.
She snagged the FuckHockeyjar, gave Andya smugsmile, and walked over to the cashregister, where she leftitbefore makingherwaydowntotheotherendofthebar.
Shestoppedinfromofherdefender Hedidn’tlookup
She waited, her palms getting sweaty and her nerve wearing thin. She was half a second away fromthe embarrassment burningher cheekstodevelopintospontaneouscombustionwhenthemanlaidhisphonescreen-downonthebar andlooked herstraightintheeyes notathertitswhereguysnormallyfocusedbutatherveryboring,veryordinarybrowneyes.
Herstomachdidaflip-flop-shimmythingasshetriedtorememberwhatinthefuckshewasabouttosay.Hadsheplanned thatfar?Shecouldn’tremember Finally,inspirationstruck.
“I’mAstrid”Sheheldoutherhandlikethiswasajobinterview “Thankyouforbefore” Okay.Fine.Itwasdorky,butitcountedasanopening.
“Goodtomeetyou”Hereachedoutandshookherhand,hislargeroneengulfinghersandsendinglittlejoltsofawareness upherarmandtoallplacesnorthandsouth.“Cal.”
Pull it together, girl You have talked to men before That’s all he is Just a man Shereleasedhishandwithoutdroolingor moaningor somethingelseequallyembarrassingandfocusedonsmall talk She wasbehindthebar,forfuck’ssake.Smalltalkwasabartender’sstockintrade.
“Newtotheneighborhood?”sheaskedasshetookthedamptoweloffhershoulderandwipedatanonexistentwetspoton thebar.
Heshookhishead “Justashort-termresident” Thatmadeanykindoflong-termrelationshippracticallyanimpossibility,whichmadehimaboutasclosetoperfectforher asitcouldget.
“Actor,consultant,orthiefabouttoexecutetheheistofalifetime?”sheasked “Youcouldsayconsultant.”HepulledaCheetooutofthenowhalf-emptybagshe’dgivenhimearlierandateit. “Damn,”shesaid,slappingthetowelbackoverhershoulder “Ihadmymoneyonthief” “Sorrytodisappoint,”hesaidwithanaw-shuckstonethatdidn’tfitwiththebadassavengerhe’dbeenearlier. Shegrinnedathim.“I’lltrytofindawaytoforgiveyou.”
HepulledanotherCheetooutofthebag.“Willthishelp?”
She eyeballed the crunchy orange twig of deliciousness as if she was considering his offer with all seriousness before
accepting.“Well,seeinghowthatwasmydinner,it’sonlyfair.”
“Yougavemeyourdinner?”heaskedasifshe’dscrambledaFabergeeggforhim.
“Ihave a full fridge athome” She suckedthe orange powder offher fingertips,enjoyingthe wayhis eyes darkenedas he watched.“AndthepersonI’mfillinginforshouldbehereanyminute,soI’llbefine.”
Hetookadrinkofhispintbeforeasking,“Soyou’llbeoffsoon?”
Andthis finally wasfamiliarterritory.Usuallythemensheconsideredsleepingwithdidn’tthrow heroffhergamelike Cal did Thatwas the beautyofknowingthatanythingthathappened was justfor funand there was no chance ofher heart gettinginvolved.Itmadeeverythingeasier.
“Mmmm-hmmm,”shesaidwithanod.
Hedownedtherestofhispintandsettheglassbackdowncarefullyonthecoaster,likeamanwhohadbeenraisednotto leaveringsonthetable.“Anyplanssinceyoumisseddinner?”
“Areyoutryingtoaskmeout?”sheasked,settinghisemptyglassbehindthebar Hegaveaself-deprecatingsnortandshookhishead.“I’dsayfailingifyouhavetoaskthat.”
“MaybeIjustpreferpeoplewhosaywhattheyreallywant”Sherestedherforearmsonthebarandleanedclose,dropping hervolume.“Doyoureallywanttohavedinnerwithme?”
Heshookhishead.“No.”
Ashiverofawarenessskitteredacrossherskin “Whatdoyouwant?” Hedidn’thesitate.“Totakeyoubacktomyplaceandfuckyousenseless.”
“Thatmightbekindahard,”shesaid,tryingher besttoholdontothatdetachedthis-is-just-for-funcasual tonewheninside shewaslikeavolcanoabouttoexplode.“Ihavealotofsense.”
He smiled. No, he didn’t curl his lips or make a one-sided grin. Cal honest-to-God, genuinely smiled and that’s what nearlysenther braininto bufferingmode againbecause the manhad a sexyfuckingsmile thatpromised all the rightwrong things.
“Challenge accepted” He grabbeda penfromthe masonjar full ofthemsittingonthe bar andscrawledsomethingonthe cardboardbeercoasterbeforeslidingitacrosstoher.“Soyouknowwheretofindmelaterifyouwanttofindoutjusthowup tothetaskIam”
Then,withoutanotherword,heturnedandwalkedoutofthebarwithoutlookingback.Itdidn’tmatter.Theybothknewwhen andwherehewasgoingtoseeheragain.
ChapterFour
Callookedaroundhisapartmentandcametooneconclusion:itgaveoffrecentlydivorceddadvibes
Hehadn’tgivenafuckaboutthatwhenhe’dleftforbeerswithBlackburnandhiswife,butthatwasbeforehe’dwalkedinto the Flying Sow Pub and lost his fucking mind Wherever it was, he highly doubted he’d find it in the mess he called an apartment.
Therewereboxesstackedalongoneofthebeigewallsinthelivingroom.Inthekitchen,allhehadweretheingredientsto makespaghettiandPB&Js Hopefullynotforthesamemeal,buthewasn’tgoingtopromisethat
Thecupboardsheldexactlytwoplates,twobowls,andtwoglasses.Thedrawerbythedishwasherwashometofourforks, zero spoons, and one steakknife thathad alreadybeenthere whenhe moved in(yes, he’d washed it) The island was bare exceptforastackofmismatchednapkinsfromtakeoutordershe’dhaddelivered.
The onlyfurniture inthe livingroomwas a foldingchair, the TV, and his PlayStation Atleasthis mattress wasn’tonthe floorinthebedroom,butfuckin’A,whatinthehellhadhebeenthinkinggivingAstrid his address?
Theanswerwashehadn’tbeenthinking.
Andnow ifsheshowedup,shewas either goingtoassumehehadnever outgrownthefratstageor hewas aserial killer Honestly,hewasn’tsurewhichwouldbeworse.
Too late now to second-guess the first period now, numbnuts
He grabbed one of the plastic grocery bags he’d squashed into another plastic grocery bag hanging on a hook in the otherwisemostlyemptypantryandstartedstuffingitwiththeVito’stakeawaybag,areceiptthatwasalmostastallashewas fromthepharmacyonthecorner he’dliterallyonlyboughttoothpaste andaboutamillionemptyproteinshakebottlesthat hadn’tmadetheirwayintothetrash.
Hewasafuckingslob
Tomorrow,he’dgethisshittogether.GetsomefurniturefromIKEAandspendthenextforty-eighthourscursingwhiletrying tofollow thesupposedlysimplesixteen-stepinstructions Itdidn’tmatterthathecouldrebuildanengine,install new brakes, andevenfigureoutwhyacar wasmakingthathmmm-hurr-hmmmsound,butSwedishfurnitureaccompaniedonlybypicture directionsfuckedhimovereverytime.
Shit,ifhewasthismuchofamessontheicewhendealingwiththatTigJoneskid,hewasn’tgoingtolasttheweek.Then again,maybethat’swhyhestillhadn’tunpacked.Theonlythingworsethangettingasecondchanceathisdreamofbeinginthe pros evenifhewasn’tplaying wasthefearthatthistimeitwouldn’tbearandomaccidenttakingitallawayfromhimbut hisownincompetence.
Cry about it some more, Matsen Maybe you can distract Astrid from your shit-ass apartment by crying on her shoulder Maybeshewouldn’tshowup.
Really,whatwasthechanceshewould?Shewasthehotbartenderwiththekindofassmensailedacrosstheoceansfor,and hewastheguywho’dfuckeduptheonethinginlifehe’deverbeengoodat.
Whine a little more, man.
Hisphonevibratedonthecounter Hepickeditupandswipedacrossthehomescreenwiththetextnotificationonit
BLACKBURN: Fallon wants to know if you made it home.
MATSEN: Nah. Got kidnapped by Girl Scouts.
BLACKBURN: Hope you got some Thin Mints out of it Fallon wants you to come over for dinner on Wednesday AndtothinkthatatonetimeBlackburnhadbeenknownastheguywholedtheleagueinstupidpenalties,hencehisformer monikerasthemosthatedmaninHarborCity.
A nice person would probably say these texts were evidence of emotional growth and maturity For Cal, it was an opportunitytogivehisfriendshit.
MATSEN: Should I give your wife my number so she can talk to me directly?
BLACKBURN: Depends Do you like having an unbroken nose?
Calrubbedthebumpspanningthebridgeofhisnosethathadnevergoneawayafterhisattemptsatjugglingfrozenpuckshad
gonereallywrong.Technically,ithadn’tbeenbusted,butithadneverlookedthesameafterthat.
MATSEN: Now I’m definitely giving your wife my number.
BLACKBURN: Fuck you
Calchuckledandsentaquickrightbackatyou Threedotsappearedanddisappearedonhisscreenseveraltimesbeforea newmessagecamethrough.
FALLON HAS BEEN ADDED TO THE CHAT.
FALLON: Looking forward to the little talks we ’ re going to have
BLACKBURN: You’re fucked now She’s going to tell you what to eat and to go to the doctor when you feel like shit
FALLON: You say that like I’m bossy.
BLACKBURN: Bingo.
FALLON: As if you don’t like it when I tell you what to do when I come to bed after a long shift and I just need to work out some frustration by
Calflippedhisphoneoverandputitscreen-sidedownonthekitchencounter.FuckingTMIgroupchat.Therewassomeshit abouthisfriendsthatamandidn’tneedtoknow
Heshovedthegrocerybagintothetrashandtookstockoftherestoftheapartment.Itwouldtakeamiracletomakeitnot lookpathetic,andthatwasn’tgoingtohappen Andhewastotallyfinewiththatfactrightupuntiltheknockonhisdoorafew minuteslater.Thenhisstomachdroppedlikehe’djustletinthegoalthattiedupthegame.Therewasn’tadamnthinghecould doabouthisdepressingapartment,though,sohemightaswelljustman-upandanswerit.
Whichhewasgoingtodo
Anyminutenow.
Itmightnotevenbeher
Itmorethanlikelywasn’ther.
Yeah, dumbass, it’s probably the Easter Bunny on the other side of the door giving away free blow jobs instead of eggs
Threequickknocksjoltedhimintoaction,andhestrodeovertothedoor,openingitjustasAstridwasturningaway.
“Hey,”hesaid,justbarelystoppinghimselffromwincingathisownineptness. Turningaroundtofacehim,sheputherhandonherhipandcockedherheadtotheside “Ifiguredyoueitherweren’thome orhadchangedyourmind.”
“Aboutyou?”Heleanedagainstthedoorjambandcrossedhisarmstokeephimselffromeitherfidgetingorgrabbingherand haulingherinsidelikesomekindof’roided-upasshat.“No.”
“Gladtohearit.”Shedidn’tmakeamoveotherthantoraiseoneeyebrow.“Soareyougoingtoinvitemein?”
ChapterFive
Caldidn’tanswerherseriouslydorkyquestion,which fine wastobeexpected,butnowAstridhadrunoutofflirtythings tosay,notthatshehadalottobeginwith.
Givepeopleahardtime?Shecoulddothatinhersleep Calloutanasshole?WasitadaythatendedinY?
Chatupahotguywithoutsoundinglikeanidiotwhentherewasn’tabarbetweenthem?Onlyduringeverythirdbluemoon whenitwasaTuesdayandtheflowerswereinbloom
Despite the pastfive years ofAstrid beingonwhather friend Thea called The Worldwide New DickTour, she sucked at flirting Like she’d once gone into depthaboutthe absolutelypure happiness knownas enchiladas duringa date inLondon Okay,yesshehadbeentravelingthroughEnglandatthetimeandhaddiscoveredthetruehorrorthatwasMexicanfoodweek onthe Great British Bake-Off wasnotaone-offthing Tosayshewasscaredforherstomachafterseeingforwhatpassedasa tacowasputtingitlightly.Asthesizeofherasscouldattest,shewasawomanwhotookherfoodasseriouslyassheusedto takegoalsagainstaveragesandpenaltykillpercentages.
Noneofthathadanythingtodowithwhyshewasstandinginthehallway,brainblankingonwhattosaynext Itwasn’t just thatshekeptgettingdistractedbythewaythesleeves ofhis pinksweater stretchedaroundhis biceps althoughthatwas an issuebecausedamn,she’dalwaysthoughtofherselfasaforearmwomanuntilnow Soyeah,thatwasanissue,butthebigger onewasthatherpalmshadgoneclammyandawholeflock(swarm?)ofbutterflieshadtakenupresidenceinherchest.She’d neveradmitittoanothersoul(notevenNolaandThea),butshewasfuckingnervous
Afterherfive-yeartour,onewouldthinkshenevergotanxiousaboutallofthepre-dicking,duringdicking,andgetting-outof-there-before-he-woke-up dicking. The expectationwould be thatshe didn’tgetcaughtup inthe is-my-ass-too-big, don’tmake-that-face-when-he’s-looking,suck-in-your-gut-when-you’re-on-topnervousness anymore Some wouldpresume thather tough-chickattitudewentbonedeepinsteadofbarelygoingbelowtheskin.
Well,there’sareasontheysaid,“Assumingmakesanassoutofyouandme,”becausehereshewasthirtyyearsoldandstill tryingtofigureitallout.
The truthshe’d goto her grave withwas thatall ofthis was justawkward as fuckandshe feltitall the waydownto the solesofhersize-eightshoes.(Yeah,shedidhaveginormousfeetforsomeonewhoonlygottoasmidgeoverfivetwowiththe helpofahighponytail.)JustbeingonCal’sdoorstepwasmakinghertoestwitchandherstomachdothatflippy-floppything. Itdidn’tmakeitanyeasierthathewasjuststaringather
Orwasheglaring?
Itwaskindahardtotellandsomehowforsomereasonkindahot,andohmyGoddidshehaveawholelottotalkaboutwith hertherapistduringtomorrow’sappointment.Atleastitcouldn’tgetworse,right?Especiallynotifshejustturnedaroundright nowand
Herstomachgrowled.
Scratchthat.Herstomachyowled loudly likeaback-alleytomcatwithabullhorn.
ThecornerofCal’smouthtwitched
Herstomachletoutanotherloudcomplaint.Callookeddownandseeminglytriedtodisguiseachucklewithafakecough. Sheprobablywouldn’thaveheardhisrustyamusementifherstomach’snextrumblehadbeenhalfasecondsooner
Shewasalreadybreakingherbiggestpost-getting-left-at-the-altarrulebyhoppingtogetlaidinthis building.
Why?Becauseitwasthesameoneshelivedin,anditwasdefinitelygoingtobehardtosticktoherfuck-them-and-neversee-them-againruleifshehadaone-nightstandwithaguywholivedoneflooraboveher
Theuniverse withallthesubtletyofaneonbeersign wasobviouslytryingtoremindherofthatwiththisstomachgrowl thing,andforonceshewasgoingtolisten
“Well,yeah,okaythen,”shesaidasshepressedherhandtoherrumblingbellyandtookafewstepsback.“I’mjustgonnago andtakecareofthat”
Heshookhishead.“Noneed.”
Herstomacheruptedagain,andshewasseriouslybeginningtowonderifshehadamedicalcondition.Atthisrate,shecould bethecaseoftheweekonsomeTVmedicalmelodrama
But doctor, we can’t screw in the supply closet right now. A patient just came in with extreme abdominal growls. She needs surgery STAT
“Ioweyoudinner,andIalwayspaymydebts,”Calsaidasifthatwasthat Yeah.No.
LikeOmarfromThe Wire,Astridhadacode: nobreakingbreadwithamanwhosedickshe’deitherseenorreally,really wantedto.
Holdingherhandtoherabdomenasifshecouldphysicallystopherstomachfromdoingthatloudgurglinggrowlthingagain, sheletoutanawkwardlaugh.“Idon’twanttoputyouout ”
“It’sjustspaghettimadewithsaucefromacan,”hesaid,hisseriousgazeneverwavering.“Thegarlicbreadisgoingtobe toastedWonderBreadwithmeltedbutterandgarlicsalt”
Rightoncue,herstomachdiditsthing.ThistimethoughtherestofAstridwasahundredpercentbehindit.“ThatwasmygotodishgrowingupwhenIhadtomakedinnerwhenmydadworkedlate”
“It’smyspecialty.”Caltookastepback,openinghisdoorwidesoshecouldeasilywalkinside.“Soareyoucomingin?” Itreallywasn’tniceofhimtothrowherownquestionfromearlierbackather Sheshouldn’t.Walkinginsidewasprettymuchgivingherpantiesthenightoff whichyeswouldbeamazingbutitdefinitely wouldbreakherno-food-with-fuckingrule.
This is a bad idea, Astrid Be smart
That’sexactlywhatshewastellingherselfwhenshewalkedinsideanyway.
Somuchforlisteningtotheuniverse’sgoodadvice
ChapterSix
Theworldcouldbeexplodingandallagoalieshouldbedoingwaswatchingthepuck,anticipatingwhereitwasgoingnext, and doingwhatever it tookto stop it fromgoingpast the posts. That level of clear-headed focus was somethingthat every goalieneededtomakeitinthepros
Inhisplayingdays,Calhadalwaysexcelledathavingacentralfocus,alaserbeamofattentionthatdidn’tveer,didn’tbend, didn’tgoeventheleastbitoffcourse.
And now he was standing in the middle of his tiny kitchen unable to remember how to make pasta because Astrid was hummingoff-keyasshedroppedtwopiecesofwhitebreadinthetoaster.
“This is justthe appetizer toast,” she said before plantingher palms onthe counter and doinga spinliftthingso she was sittingonit.“Toholdusoveruntilthepasta’sdone.Youaregoingtoputthatinboilingwater,right?”
That’s right Making pasta is really hard there, Matsen You wanna take a remedial course on how to breathe next?
Caldumpedtheboxofpenneintothepotonthestove.“JustlikeMamausedtomake.”
“Didyourparentscookalot?”Astridaskedasshefidgetedwiththetwisttiethathadbeenaroundthebreadbag.“Welived ontakeoutgrowingup”
“Familydinners everySundayandeachofus kids hadtoplanandmake dinner once a week a chore thatwasn’talways usedfor evil butitdefinitelyhappened”Heusedoneofhisforkstopushthepenneall thewayintotheboilingwater “One timemysistermadeblackbeanandbroccolipizza whichwasasbadasitsounds butshe’dmadeitspecificallybecauseI was goingout ona date that night About halfwaythroughthe movie, the raffinose and fiber hit The sounds I was making wouldhaveyourstomachgrowlssoundlikewhispers.”
“Wow.”Astridgotthesinglewordoutandthenpressedherlipstogetherasshetriedtofightbackalaughthatkeptcoming outinlittleburstsofhigh-pitchedsqueakysounds “Iambothfrightenedandimpressed” “Yeah, you don’t want to cross my sister, Roxy. She’s very creative.” Pasta doing its thing for the next few minutes, he butteredthetoastwhenitpoppedupandhandedoneoftheslicestoAstrid
Shehelditupclosetoherfaceandtookadeepinhale.“OhmyGod.Isthereanythingthatsmellsbetterthanbutteredtoast?”
Calwasabouttorespondwith“afreshsheetofice,”buthestoppedhimselfrightintime.Therewasn’taFuckHockeyjarat his house,buthewasn’tgoingtopushhis luck.Thenshetookabiteoftoastandletoutamoanheavywiththereverenceof someonestandingcloseenoughtotheStanleyCuptoseethedentfromwhenPatrickRoydroppedit.
Itwas enoughtomake himrethinkhis aversiontokitchensex especiallywhenshe satthere onthe counter withher legs spreadjustenoughthathecouldn’tstoplookingattheapexofher thighs.Thensheleanedforward,andtheV-neckofher Tshirtdippedlowerandgavehimenoughofaglimpseofhertitsthathewanted needed toseemore Hecouldn’tremember exactlywhyhe’dalways beenano-food-and-fucking-in-the-same-placeguy.Her gazesteadyonhim,shecurledher full lips intoaslysmileasifshekneweverysingledirtythoughthe’deverhadandeverwould.Why?Becauseshehadthesameones. Desire,need,fuckingbone-deepwantrushedthroughhim.He didn’tthink.He didn’tplan.He didn’tweighthe options.It waslikethebaralloveragain.Hejustacted.
Cal turned offthe burner heatingthe boilingpasta and closed the distance betweenthemintwo strides, notnearlyenough timetofigureoutwhathewasgoingtosayandatthesametimenotnearlyfastenough.Standingbetweenherlegs,helaidhis palmsflatonthecounter oneither sideofher hips closebutwithoutmakingcontactbecausethesecondhetouchedher,he knewhe’dlosecontrol.
“Idon’tfuckinmykitchen,”hesaid,thewordscomingoutlowandrough.
“Boundaries are important,” she said, all sugaryinsincerity “I’msure there are a bunchoffolks who have the same rule Theylikeitinthebed,lightsoff,notalking.”
Havinghisballsbustedshouldn’tbesomuchfun,butherehewasfightingoffagrinagain Astridwasnothingbuttroublein apairofjeanshecouldn’twaittopeeloff.“Yousaythatasifthosearebadthings.”
Shebrokeacornerofhertoastoffandhelditaninchfromhislipsasifhimopeningforherwasaforegoneconclusion It wasaridiculousfuckingassumptionthathehadnointentionofmakingcometrue until,awholehalfsecondlater,hedid.She fedthetoastcornertohim,herfingertipsbrushinghislipsandsendingablastofdesirethroughhim.
“Oh,theyaren’tbad They’rejust ”Shepaused,glancingupattheceilingasiftherightwordwasuptherewaitingforher
tofindit.Thenhergazedroppedbacktohim,andshegavehimalittleshrugofapology.“Alittleboring.”
“Sexina bed is boring?” he asked, inchinghis hands closer to her voluptuous hips until his thumbs brushed against her jeans
She letouta shakybreathbutotherwise kepther cool,answeringhis questionwitha quickliftofher eyebrows ina yousaid-it-not-meresponse
Hemovedhishands,runningthemacrosshersplayedthighssohisthumbsrestontheinnerseamofherjeans.“Andfucking inthedarkisboring?”
Aflushateitswayupfromherchest,andshebitdownonherbottomlipasshenoddedheragreement.
“Andnothingbutthesoundofyourwetpussygettingfilledwithahardcock,that’salsoboring?”Heglidedhisthumbsup towardherhotcenter,givingheronlythesoftestpressureashegotclose sofuckingclose withoutmakingthecontactthey bothwanted.“Andthefeelofeverytouch,everystroke,everythrustwhenIpumpmydickintoyougetsturneduptoamillion becauseyoureyesandearscan’tdistractyou That’sjustboring?”
“Soboring,”shesaid,herdesire-darkenedgazesteadyevenashervoiceshook. “ButifItalkmywaythroughthisinthekitchenwiththelightson ”Hedippedhisheadlower,inhalingthesweetscentof her, his lips nearly grazing the curve of her ear, the line of her jaw, the fucking A-level temptation of her mouth before straighteningbackup.“That’snotboring?”
Adelicioussparkoffuck-you-and-your-teasingsnappedinhereyeshalfasecondbeforeshegrabbedhisT-shirtandyanked himclose.“Enough,Cal.”
Thenshe kissedhim Nobullshit Noartifice Nodemure brushofher lips againsthis Fuckthat Astridkissedhimlike a womanwhoknewexactlywhatshewantedandluckyfuckingCal,whatshewantedrightnowwashim.
Aswitchinhimflipped,aneedhecouldn’tpinpointorname.Allheknewwasthatplaytimewasfuckingover.
Hishandswentuptoherhips,grabbingherassandpullinghercloserashekissedherback,hardandfierce.Shetuggedhis shirtoutofhisjeansandslidherhandsunderneathanddraggedhernailsdownhischestwithjustenoughpressuretoskirtthat lineoftoomuchandnotenough Andwhileheplunderedthatsweetmouthofhers,onehandnowholdingthebackofherhead andtheothercuppingoneofherpillowytits,shereleasedthebuttonofhisjeansandbrokethekiss.
“Take offyour sweater,” she demanded, pushinghimbackwitha light shove that had his backagainst the stainless steel fridge.“Now,Cal.”
Likehewasgoingtodraw outgettingnaked.Okay,fine.Normallyhemighthavedonethat,madeher mindlesswithwant, desperateforrelief,butnottonight.Henosoonerreachedbehindhisheadtograbhissweaterwhenshehoppeddownfromthe counter.Andbythetimehe’dpulleditoverhisheadandletitfalltothefloor,shewasonherkneesinfrontofhim,shovinghis jeansdownlowenoughtofreehiscock
“Aren’tyoupretty?” she whispered as she wrapped her cool fingers around himand thenswallowed him, suckinghimin deep
Theheatofhermouth,thesoftnessofherlips,thepressurefromhertongueontheundersideofhisdickwassodamngood. Fuck.Thatwasn’tevenclose.Itwaslikehavinglightningshootthroughhim,powerandelectricityandflashesofyes-fuckingpleaseobliteratingeverythingelse Hedroppedhishandtoherhead,threadinghisfingersthroughherdarkhair,pullingsome ofthesilkystrandsloosefromherbraid,andshelookedupathim,hergazehazywithlust.Thesighthadhisballstightening. Fuck,shelookedgoodwithhisdickinhermouth
Shelookedgoodpullingbackandrestingthetipofhis cockonher bottomlip,lickingtheheadas shejackedhimslowly, takinghiminagainasherfingernailsbitintohisass Thecombinationofallthatpleasurewhilewatchingherhadhimrighton theedge,readytopumphishipsandfuckthatlusciousmouthofhersuntilhecame. Buthehadotherplans.
Hefistedherthickbraidandwrappedthelengthofitaroundhishand,tugginghermouthoffofhim Sheletgobutkepther handwrappedaroundhim,leisurelystrokinghim,awickedsmilecurlingherlips.Sheknewexactlyhowfarshewaspushing him,howhardhewasfightingforcontrol,andsheloveddancingonthatedge
“Clothesoff,”hesaidthroughgrittedteeth,nottrustinghimselftoevenunclenchhisjaw.
She stood up, her hand still grippinghim, and leaned inclose, one hand braced againsthis chest “All youhad to do was ask.”
Shegotridofhershirtanddroppedittothefloornexttohissweater.Herhandswenttoherjeans,butshedidn’tdragitout, andthesecondshesteppedoutofherjeansandpanties,hepickedherupandsatherdownonthekitchenisland,anglingherso herheadrestedonthepileofnapkins.She’dbarelyletoutagaspofpleasedsurprisebeforehedippeddown,putherlegson hisshoulders,andloweredhismouthtoherjuicypussy Herhandswereinhishairandherthighspressedclosetohischeeks, asifheneededtobekeptwherehewaswhenshetastedthisfuckinggood,asshemoanedher pleasure.Shewassosoft,so wet,soresponsivetoeveryflickandcircleofhistonguethathiscockwasslickwithpre-comefromhearingher.Goditwas good,sofuckinggood.Hereacheddownandsqueezedhisdick,needingtobuyafewmoreminutesasherbreathingchanged, gettingfaster,moredesperateasshegotcloser.Hismouthandchinwerewetwithher,thescentofher pleasuresurrounding
him,ashefollowedherlead,speedingup,increasingthepressure,hittingthespotthatmadeheryellout“fuckyes”againand againinasteadyrhythmuntilshecamehardandfastagainsthistongue.
Theapocalypsecouldhavestartedinhislivingroomandhewouldn’thavenoticedashegrabbedacondomfromhiswallet and rolled it onwhile watching Astrid come down. She had a blissed-out expression on her face, and her eyes were half closedasshecaughtherbreath Herlegswerestill wideopen,herinner thighspinkfromrubbingagainsthisscruff,andshe was tracingher fingertips over her stomachwhenshe let out a soft sighof satisfactionas if she’d reached the peakof her pleasure
“Astrid,”hesaid,layinghispalmsonherthighsagainandtracinglazycircleswithhisthumbs. Shemadeanoncommittal“huh”sound.
“LiftyourhipsupsoIcanfuckyou”Hegrabbedherhips,lettinghisfingerspressagainstherperfectcushyass,assoonas shecomplied.“That’smygoodgirl.”
Notbotheringtotakeoffhisjeans,hejustshovedthemdownabitmoreandthenheldheratjusttherightangleandplunged intoher,sinkingballs-deepandstayingthere,takinginthefeel ofher tight,wetheat.Astridtriedtorockagainsthim,buthe tightenedhisgrip,holdingherfirm Sheletoutafrustratedgroanasherhandswenttoherbra-coveredtits,cuppingthem Heleaneddownoverher,hismouthonlyinchesfromthepinksatinmaterial.“Showme.”
Sheslippedfreeoftheshoulderstrapsandpulledhertitsoutofthecups,holdingthemupasifmakinganoffering.Bigand lushandtippedwithblush-colorednipples,theywereasbeautifulastherestofher “Verynice,”hesaid,pullinghishipsbackandthenthrustingforward,watchinghertitsjigglewiththeforce.“Sovery,very pretty,Astrid Showmewhatyoulike”
Sherolledhernipplesbetweenherthumbandforefingerbeforepullingthemtaut,tuggingthesensitivenubsuntiltheyturned adeeprosepink.Herlipswerepartedandhereyesclosedasshecontinuedtoteaseandtormentherselfwhilehefuckedher hardanddeep.
Thesightwassodamnhot.Hecouldn’tgetenough.Hewantedtoknow all thewaysshegotherselfoff.Fast.Slow.Inthe shower Aquickstressrelease Along,slowfingerfuckthatsoakedhersheets Heneededitall,buthe’dhavetotakewhathe couldgettonight.
“Howdoyouliketorubyourclit?”
Sheopenedhereyesathisquestionandfocusedonhimwithaheadygazeassheslippedonehanddownbetweenherlegs. Herfingersbumpedupagainsthimashepumpedintoher,andhehadtosqueezehisasscheekstogethertokeepfromcoming rightthen.
Fuck,hewasclose.
“Youaresodamngood,”hesaid,awedbywatchingher “Fuckingperfect”
Shecircledherclitassheplayedwithherbreast,hercoretighteningaroundhim,andheknewhewouldn’tlastmuchlonger. So he gave into the urge to lookdown, his gaze goingfromher finger onher clitto his cockslidinginand outofher tight entranceandbackagain.Speedingup,herodealongtheedgeneedingtomatchherasshegrippedhimtighterandtighteruntil she came. After that, there was no holdingbackhis orgasm. He pounded into her one last time, fillingher completelyand cominghardwithalow,gutturalgroan
Ittookhimaminuteoranhourorafewdays,buthefinallygotittogetherenoughtotakeastepback,pullhisjeansbackup, andgetridofthecondominthetrashcannexttothefridge
Astridsatupontheislandasshescoopedhertitsupandputthembackinherbra,grinningathim,andthenlookedpointedly atthepotofhalf-cookedpastaonthestoveasiftosay,“Somuchfornokitchenfucking”Thenshehoppeddownandpulledon herpanties.
“Weneverate,”hesaid.
“Ididn’tmind,”shesaidasshepickedhershirtupoffthefloor “Meeither.”Nowthatwastheunderstatementoftheyear.
“Good” She slipped her T-shirt on, and thenshe pulled onher jeans, coveringup that glorious bare ass fromsight She leanedoverandbrushedherlipsacrosshis.“Igottago.”
Shockfrozehimforasecond Yeah,he’dpulledthefuck-and-fleemovebeforehimself,buthe’dneverbeentheoneleft He hadnofuckingcluehowtoprocessthatorwhattosaynow,sohewentwithwhathefiguredwasthepolitefuck-boyresponse. “CanIatleastgetyouanUber?”
“Igotit”Shepickedupherphoneoffthecounterandtappedthescreen Thenshestrolledovertowherehewasstanding dumbfoundedinthemiddleofhiskitchenandgavehimanotherkiss,thisonelongandlingeringasifshewantedonefinaltaste. “Goodnight,Cal”
Hecouldstilltasteheronhislipswhenhewatchedherwalkouthisfrontdoor,closingitwithasolidclickbehindher.He made it five whole seconds before hustlingover to the door. He cracked it open because he was lookingout for her not becausehewasacreep intimetowatchherdisappeardownthestairsand,nodoubt,outofhislife.
Ignoringthetensionpullinghisshoulderstightwhenhecouldn’tseeheranymore,hetoldhimselfthatthiswasforthebest.
HewasinHarborCitytoresurrecthiscareer.Secondchancesinhockeyforguyslikehimwerenearlyimpossibletocome by,andthirdopportunitieswerejustamyth.Hecouldn’tfuckthisup.Hehadtobe100percentallwork,allthetime.Andthat meantnotgettingdistractedbyawomanwithasmartmouth,deadlycurves,andacertainsomethingaboutherthatmadehim wanttoseeheragain.
