“Of course I don’t mind,” I reply. I step past him to the fridge to grab the butter. He stops me with his hand grabbing mine, causing me to half turn to give him my attention.
“That’s sort of a big deal,” he says, eyes twinkling. “Being a couple in front of your parents. Think we can have sex in your bedroom—be really quiet about it?”
I snort, jerking my hand away. “You’re such a man-child,” I chastise. In truth, though, that idea has merit. “But… you have time to make the trip?”
“This weekend will be the last for a while that won’t be chaotic. Pre-season games start next week. So, I’m in if you’ll have me.”
Butter in hand, I move back to the stove. “It’s a date then.”
I busy myself heating the butter to sauté the chicken. Kane asks if I’m making the same spicy chicken my mom makes, which he’s had on occasion. We lapse into small talk while I cook, and he tells me all about the first day of training camp. It consisted of meetings, some ice drills, and physical evaluations. Kane is pumped—there’s no hiding it. Ever since I saw him in his first hockey game at Boston College, I knew his destiny was on the ice. It’s as much a part of him as the blood and bone that make up his composition.
He chatters on about how good it felt to be back on the ice, how despite the hard training efforts he put in over the summer, his legs are still wobbly from the ice time, and how the team is excited to take home the Cup again this year.
After I sauté the chicken, I start putting the salad together. At some point, Kane pulls out a bottle of white wine and pours us each a glass.
It feels so weird and natural at the same time. As friends, we’ve never had a lull in our conversations. We’ve shared food and talks many times. But now there are little changes that, quite frankly, thrill me.
Kane needing to shift past me to the cabinet where the wineglasses are kept, putting a hand to my waist to move past.
Or the way, after we tapped our glasses together but before that first sip, I went up to my tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth.
Those are things we’ve never done before. Yes, they feel slightly weird because it’s new, but it’s so fucking right all the same.
We choose to eat in the formal dining room, carrying our plates and wineglasses in there. Samson, ever hopeful of getting a stray bit of food, settles in at my feet.
“So, one of my teammates, Aaron, is dating a girl named Clarke. She owns a bookstore not far from here,” Kane says as he spears a piece of chicken and brings it to his mouth. He chews with a delighted expression. When he swallows, he says, “Goddamn, Mollie, that’s amazing.”
Cheeks heating, I feel my belly start to flutter over the praise. I had wanted to make a nice meal for Kane—as part of our new relationship—and it appears to be a success.
But I steer him back to the conversation. “Bookstore?”
“Right,” he replies with a lopsided grin. “You should go over there and introduce yourself. Her store is neat, and I know you love to read. She’s cool, too, and it would be good for you to get to know some of the other players’ significant others. I mean, you’ll be meeting them at some point at team functions and games, but I figured it would give you something to do during the day when I’m gone.”
And there it is… Kane has already accepted I’m here to stay. Or at least for long enough to become integrated into his life. For the most part, I love that because while my future may still be all kinds of up in the air, I know the immediacy of my life is here with Kane.
“I’ll head by tomorrow,” I say, actually eager for something to do. I figured I’d explore Phoenix in the days to come, but meeting a new friend is always something I’m up for. No matter how isolating traveling alone can be, I’m a social creature at heart. I love meeting people. Love listening to their stories and hearing about their travels. It gives me a perspective I can’t find out there on my own.
Kane launches in to tell me more about Clarke and Aaron, the most recent of his Vengeance teammates to fall victim to love. He spends time telling me about the other players, too, and I’m fascinated by Tacker’s tragic story of losing his fiancée in a plane crash where he’d been the pilot to his surprise wedding just two months ago. It’s what romance is all about.
As we’re talking, Kane’s phone—which he had set on the table when we sat to eat—chimes. I can’t help but move my gaze to it. It’s close enough I can clearly read it’s a text from Nalia—the gorgeous woman I met coming out of his apartment the morning I arrived.
I’m too curious to avert my eyes, so I read the first few lines showing on the screen. I’m genuinely happy for you, Kane. But if things change….
It’s a longer text than what shows. I wonder what she’s offering if “things change,” so my gaze snaps up to his. He’s watching me, obviously having seen what she wrote.
Smiling, he lifts the phone and pulls up the full text. He reads it, then turns the screen to show me.
…you know where to contact me. Best of luck to you and your girl.
I’m immensely relieved he respects me enough to show me what she sent. In the next breath, I feel guilty over wanting to know. I trust Kane. When we talked about giving this a go and being exclusive, I had no doubts he would sever anything with her or any other woman he might have had on the side.
“I sent her a text explaining you and I reconnected on a pretty deep level,” he explains. “Something I wanted to work seriously on, so I would have to call it quits with her.”
“What exactly did you have with her?” I ask curiously.
He shrugs. “It was a booty call a handful of times a year when I played in Raleigh. She’s a flight attendant, and that was one of her hubs. We weren’t exclusive.”
“And is Phoenix one of her hubs?” I hate the jealousy this notion stirs because it implies something more.
“No, but it was still just a booty call, Mollie. Nothing more, and it’s nothing now.”
“You and I aren’t having protected sex,” I blurt out, forcing a conversation we probably should have had days ago. He was in an active sexual relationship when I walked in his front door. Matthew was my last sexual partner. That was months ago, but I haven’t been an angel over the years.
“You’re on the pill,” Kane points out, setting his fork down.
“Yeah… but… we’ve neither one been celibate either,” I reply, making my point.
Kane gives me an understanding smile, reaching for my hand. My fingers curl around his. “Yeah, but we’ve both protected ourselves. Always practiced safe sex.”
“You know that about you, but how do you know that about me?”
Kane rolls his eyes. “Come on, Molls. Why the doubts in our friendship? You and I have talked about our sex lives in the past. We’ve both stressed the importance of safe sex.”
“Sure… in passing. But how do you know I do that?”
Chuckling, Kane squeezes my hand. “Because I trust you. You’re level-headed, smart, and wouldn’t go bare unless you were serious with someone. The other thing I know about you, dear bestie, is you haven’t ever been serious about a man like that. Just as you know I’ve never been serious about a woman like that.”