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“I went to buy some more and they didn't have any strawberry-scented ones. Do you like this kind?”
“Sure, but I like the strawberry better. That's one of the things I love about you. You're hair always smells of strawberries.”
She fakes a pout. “You are so stuck in your ways, love.”
“How am I supposed to keep tabs on all your quirks if you change things up on me?” I smile crookedly.
Emily giggles. “You'll stay on your toes if I mixed things up, but I'll go look and see if they have any tomorrow.”
“You don't have to do that.” It's shampoo. It doesn't matter what scent it is as long as it cleans her hair and she likes it.
“Yes, I do. It's giving me a headache, honestly.”
I laugh. “Good.”
Sweetness cocks her head to the side before dipping her head to kiss my neck. “Make love to me, Jake,” she whispers seductively.
Sweetness brings her lips back to mine, my heart beating erratically at her command. I bunch the hem of her shirt in my hands and swiftly pull it up over her head, tossing it on the floor. Sweetness immediately claims my lips. Just when she kisses her way to my waist, Drake bangs on the door to our bedroom.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath as Emily rolls onto her side of the bed and pulls the covers over her head, one thing she still does all these years later.
“Jake! I forgot that I need you to sign a paper for a field trip,” his voice sweeps under the door.
“All right. I'm coming.” I throw the covers back to go sign the damn paper. By the time I return, our moment is gone. As per the new usual, Sweetness and I fall asleep on separate sides of the bed, untangled and not touching. I ignore the fact that I don't pull her to me, even though I know how my girl is and what she likes, and this isn't how she likes to sleep. It's all my fault.
* * *
I'm on a plane because we have an away game tonight, and Steve is sitting beside me. He's talking about something, but my mind is lost in my own thoughts. When I get back, I'm going to shake things up, and pull us from our routine to make her feel like we're getting out of the rut. We're preparing to get married next year and I don't want Emily feeling as if we're losing pieces of our relationship already. Then there's so much I need to do regarding the house too.
“That's cool,” I say, not listening to Steve at all.
“Jake, what the hell?” Steve's hand waves in front of my face.
“Sorry, man. What were you saying?”
“I was talking about how I grew a third nipple and you told me that was cool.”
I laugh. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“Trouble in paradise still?”
“Still?” I raise an eyebrow, wondering what he knows about it and how.
He raises a finger to mark each of his points. “You've been in your own world. You don't call Emily when we have away games. You text her and you usually call at least once. Lastly, you aren't that much fun,” he grins. “What's really been going on, Jake?”
I shake my head and lean back. “Maybe Emily was right and we have gotten into a rut. Something just doesn't feel right anymore.” I'm surprised by my words, but it's true. “I mean, I still want to marry her and we're going to build a house, but I don't know. Something's missing.”
Steve whistles in a low tone. Will pops his head in between our seats.
“Sex?” he questions, and I laugh.
“That's not what I meant and what the hell are you doing eavesdropping?”
“What else am I supposed to do?”
I shrug, turning the conversation away from my relationship and to hockey. I go through my day, thinking too much. Have I allowed myself to become completely immersed with my career, focusing less on my family? Have I lost sight on what's really important? Emily won't say anything about what she's unhappy with until she's absolutely fed up. It took her two months to become fed up with my behavior, and I think a big part of what led her to that this fast is because of the wedding planning.
That's enough thinking for now. It feels like I'm coming home when I skate onto the ice. It may not be home ice, but it's comforting in its own way. I allow myself to get tangled in the game, effectively forgetting about everything else. For now, at least. Playing for a living is one of the best feelings in world. The energy, the fans, the game. It's everything I expected and more. I love every second of it.
After the game, I call Emily. Partly because I need to hear her voice after a day like today and partly because of Steve's comment on how I don't call her anymore.
“Jake? Is everything okay?” she answers.
“Yeah, of course. Why?”
“You don't call that often. I thought something was wrong.”
Has it really gotten that bad? Since I don't call, she thinks something's wrong instead of me wanting to talk to her? What the hell have I been doing? This is my love and she has come to expect me not to call unless something's wrong. “No, Sweetness. I only wanted to talk to you,” I say softly.
“Oh,” she pauses, “Okay. Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Mhm. The usual.”
There's an awkward silence and then Emily says she'll see me tomorrow for lunch.
“I'll pick you up, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“I love you, Sweetness. Always.”
