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“Honestly, I never eat out, it’s too expensive.”
“Just send me ideas about what kind of food you like.”
“Okay.”
He strokes his thumb over my cheek and leans down to kiss me, his lips brushing over mine. This time, it’s not a passionate kiss that leaves me breathless. Just a soft, lingering kiss that leaves a tingly feeling in my stomach.
“I figure I shouldn’t ravage you with the boys looking at us out the window,” he says.
I look at the front window, and sure enough, the curtains are pulled aside and Sam and Tate are staring at us.
“Good night,” he says.
“Night. Drive safe.”
He gets into the car, then rolls down the window. “Hey, I don’t want to leave until I know you’re inside safe.”
I walk inside, wave to him and lock the doors behind me, his protectiveness something I’m not used to, either.
I don’t know where things will lead with Dom, but so far, there have been a lot of firsts.
Chapter Fifteen
Dom
* * *
The mood in the locker room tonight is serious; everyone’s quiet as we listen to Coach. This is the first game we’ve played against the Minnesota Mammoths since one of their players took a cheap shot against Beau and a brawl broke out.
An extensive flow chart would have been needed to break down all the penalties both teams got that night. The game was in Minneapolis, and our team had to have security escort us to our bus because a mob of pissed-off fans was waiting for us. It took more than two weeks for my face to heal from the fights that night.
That kind of optics makes for angry coaches, owners and league execs. So tonight, we’re getting a pregame lecture.
“Look, I know there’s bad blood, but your job is to win this game. That’s it. The college is generously allowing us to use this space while our arena is being built and the college president probably wouldn’t like seeing their arena on SportsCenter with another fight like the one in Minneapolis.”
Okay, fair. But also, the team is paying the college a mint to use this facility. It’s not like we’re getting it free. And fighting is part of the game. It’s the part most fans like the best, too. Probably not a good time to mention those things, though.
“I want you guys loose and focused. If you really want to get to our opponents tonight, kick their asses on the scoreboard. Now let’s go lock this one up.”
There’s a low-energy rumble of approval because all of us came in here tonight ready to fight. Sergei actually special ordered a roll of toilet paper with the Mammoths’ team captain’s picture on it, and he’s been taking it into the bathroom with him every time he goes.
It’s almost ice time, and I walk over to check my phone one last time. Tess and her family are here tonight, and she sent me a picture of all of them in the jerseys the front office staff left in their suite, all with my name and number, of course.
I’ve never seen Tess looking more beautiful than she does with my number on. Her hair is loose and a little curled tonight, her smile relaxed and radiant. Cam and all the kids look excited to be here, too.
I wish their first game could have been in our arena, but this will do. I made sure their suite was loaded up with merch and food. It would have been amazing to take them all out after the game, but it’s a school night and Tess told me they have to go home as soon as the game is over.
At least she’s giving me another chance. I was afraid I might have lost her when I got her angry phone call over the beaver daddy incident. If that had happened to one of my teammates, I would have laughed my ass off. But it wasn’t the least bit funny when it happened to me.
I never would have considered myself any sort of role model for kids of any age, but I think I was underestimating myself. Neither Tess nor Cam’s kids have dads who even show up on a regular basis. Tess’s ex lives in Arizona now and he gets the kids for two weeks every summer, and he doesn’t even consistently do that. Cam doesn’t even know where her ex is; he stays hidden to avoid paying child support.
I want to show those kids that real men show up, admit when they’re wrong, and always treat women with respect. All four of them are great kids who deserve so much more than what they’ve gotten from their fathers.
“Well?” Colby asks me as we wait to take the ice.
I shrug. “Anyone starts shit with me, I’ll finish it. What about you? Willing to piss off the missus?”
Colby doesn’t tell us whether he and his wife have an owner-player relationship at home, but I don’t see Mila keeping quiet if she’s angry about something.
