Page 33 of Goalie interference

My mind went blank for a moment, struggling to stay on task.

The surge of joy I felt deep in my stomach at his referring to my place as home…I couldn’t explain that. I understood how dangerous we were and how fast that assumption came to…

But I just no longer cared.

This made me happy, and it was making him happy–that was all I cared about now.

“Yeah, baby…I can look at it at home.”

Chapter 16

Ash

We won.

Whether that was because I got my shit together in the third period or because the other team sucked so bad was unclear, but we won.

The team was happy, Reed was happy, and I really wanted to be too, but my happiness was being dangled in front of me on a stick. My happiness was about a fifteen-minute drive away, and only after I got showered, changed, and sat through a thirty-minute debrief with Reed and the rest of our team.

Twenty minutes, my ass–I could still hear Thayer in my head.

When Reed finally dismissed us, Thayer was long gone. I was annoyed–even if we couldn’t actually leave together, it would have been nice to know he stuck around. He rarely did after games, unless one of us goalies needed something from him, so it shouldn't have been surprising.

Knocking on his door fifteen minutes later, I was exhausted. I was tired, overstimulated, and overheated still–I just couldn't seem to level out. I needed Thayer to just do me or something–lay me out till I passed out and made it all better.

Thayer opened his door quickly, smiling warmly and kissing my head as I walked in. I was sure it was a sweet gesture, and that I’d probably eat it up when I was leveled out again, but I was focused–hell-bent.

I dropped my bag on the floor, spun around, and with not an ounce of hesitation, dropped to my knees in front of him.

“Hello to you, too,” Thayer chuckled, shutting his door and squatting down to me casually. “Most people try a normal greeting, but yours is awfully interesting–”

“You said–”

“I said,” he interrupted firmly, his eyes locking with mine, “that I’d look at your foot when we got home. I said that I would help when we got home, not whatever you think is about to happen. Stand up.”

Now, with hesitation, I stumbled back onto my feet, feeling like I was three feet tall suddenly. Thayer rested a hand on the side of my neck, his grip firm but not constricting, as he pulled me closer, kissing me.

“Hi,” he said, softer now. “See, that’s how normal couples would greet one another.”

Blah blah blah–it was already working.

His hand on my neck, and even if it was patronizing, the way he was speaking to me was already quelling some of the irritation in my body.

“Hi,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss him again, only meeting resistance in his hold on my neck.

“Let me see your foot,” he hummed, releasing my neck and sending me to his room.

My foot was fine, honestly. It was a little sore earlier, but it felt fine by the time the game was over–that wasn’t good enough for Thayer.

He sat me on his bed, took off my shoe, and inspected my foot and toes to make sure they were unharmed. I may have acted all annoyed, but there was an undeniable warmth under my skin that wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the overheated I just was.

He lectured me about kicking solid objects when I was angry, too, but that did feel patronizing…

I still liked that he cared that much.

I'd showered after my game, but once Thayer was done with his inspection of me, he guided me with him to his shower. I wasn't complaining by any means–his hands felt nice on my skin, massaging soap that smelled like him into my aching muscles.

It was way better than the shower I took in a room full of sweaty guys.