Only For Tonight, page 4
“Yeah, Maddox and I,” he says, motioning to Maddox and I smile and go to give him his own hug, “were just sitting at some random table.” I can even smell that they are bullshitting me, they were probably up to no good.
“Hey, Squirt,” I tease him, even though now he towers over me by a good six inches, “you are looking good.” My hand comes up, along with my tippy-toes, to touch the top of his hair that is shaggy compared to the sides of his head which is shaved. “I see the hockey flow”—I gently tug the hair to the side of his neck a bit—“is still a trend.”
“Who knows.” He shrugs. “I like skating and feeling the wind blow through my hair.” He tries to keep a straight face. “Kind of like Beyoncé.”
He and Brookes burst out laughing until Callie surfaces next to me. “We are about to do another round of shots,” she tells me, then looks at the guys. “It’s a girl thing. Sorry, you aren’t invited.”
“It’s going to be a girls’ thing when you are heaving into the toilet all night long.” Brookes shakes his head. “You would think you would learn.”
“You are ruining my buzz,” Callie accuses.
“Last time you said that”—Maddox points to her—“you threw up in my car.”
“Hey.” Callie points to him. “I paid to have it cleaned.” She glares at him. “And you blackmailed me for about six months. I set you up with five of my friends who have stopped talking to me because you ghosted them."
"I didn’t ghost them,” Maddox denies, “I lost my phone.”
“You have the same number you did when you were ten.” Callie rolls her eyes at him.
“Okay, you two”—I use my mom voice—“to your respective corners. Maddox, I love you big.” I drag Callie away from them and to the bar, where my shot awaits me.
I look over and see that Jaxon is still at the bar, staring at me. “Are you having a shot?” I ask him and he just shakes his head and tries not to smile, but fails. “Borrrinnnngg,” I repeat what I told him before and pick up the shot and then cheers with the girls.
A song comes on and I have just enough time to put down my glass before I’m pulled to the dance floor. “I’ll be back,” I say over my shoulder and all he does is nod at me.
Then he turns around and is in deep conversation with Nash and Gabriel.
I don’t know how long I spend on the dance floor, but one song leads into two, then into three, and all of a sudden we are singing “Dancing Queen” at the top of our lungs.
“It’s really hot,” I note, grabbing my hair in one hand while I fan myself with the other. “I’m going to get some water,” I tell my cousins and my aunts, who are now all busting it up on the dance floor.
I make my way toward the bar, bumping into my Uncle Evan. “Why is it that my niece is here and she hasn’t come up to me and said hello?”
“One,” I say, getting up on my tippy-toes and kissing his cheek, “I haven’t seen you yet because there are about a million people here.” I look around the room, my eyes finding Jaxon with my brother and Maddox, laughing at something. “And two, I saw my aunt when I walked in.”
“She didn’t tell me.” He holds his hand up to cup my cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
I smile at the soft way he looks at me. “You have to say that.”
“Oh, please,” he says, his hand falling from my cheek. “See those two?” He points over to Matthew and Max, who are his brothers-in-law, as they walk our way. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Those two are ugly as fuck.” I have to stop myself from bursting out laughing. “Hey, there they are, M&M.”
“That fucking nickname,” Max grumbles before smiling at me and leaning down to kiss my cheek. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you doing?”
“Get your mitts away from her.” Evan pushes him away, which gives Matthew a chance to give me a big hug. “Great, now the ogre has her.” I laugh as I give Matthew a kiss on the cheek. “Leave her alone, will you?”
“You know, we speak almost weekly,” Matthew informs him, “and we meet at least once a month for lunch.” He puts his hands in his pockets and raises his eyebrows. “Can you say the same?” he asks him with a huge smile on his face, because he can’t say the same.
“Why the fuck are the two of you having lunch once a month?” my uncle barks at him.
“I don’t have to answer that.” He smiles big, goading him on.
“As much fun as this is”—I look at them, seeing Max just shaking his head as Evan glares at Matthew, who just smirks at him—“I need water.”
I move around Matthew and head to the bar to grab a bottle of water. I walk through the crowd looking up at the pictures scattered through the room. I spot Jaxon in front of another picture of his father and my father. He looks at it and I can see him laughing to himself, memories. “What’s so funny?” He looks to the side where I’ve stopped and am standing next to him.
“Do you remember this?” He points his finger to the picture. “It was, I think, the second game in the playoffs. You wanted to catch a puck, so I thought it was a good idea to put you on my shoulders.” I gasp, now remembering the story. “And—”
“And you tilted forward a little too much and I hit my face on the glass,” I fill in the rest of the story. “I saw stars that night.”
“Why wouldn’t you hold out your hands?” he asks me, as if it was my fault I face-planted in the glass.
“I was holding on to the side of your head, trying to steady myself,” I defend my actions. “I spent the rest of the night in the kids’ room with an ice pack on my face.” I push his shoulder. “Thanks for that memory.”
“You had a lot of faith in me.” He moves his hands to his pants pockets, making his chest feel like it’s puffed out even more.
“I think me not putting my hands forward to block my face was me having faith in you, don’t you think?” I laugh as I close my eyes and put my hand to my head.
“Do you still have the puck I got for you?” he asks me and I shrug my shoulders. “Wow.”
“Do you know how many pucks I have in my house?” I cock my hip to the side. “I’m sure it’s there somewhere. Anyway, as much as I would love to go down this memory lane with you, I’m on my way to the bar to get some water.”
“Oh, as Tori would say, that’s deflection,” he jokes. “Besides, I owe you a drink anyway.”
“Really?” I move a step backward so I’m eye to eye with him.
“You bought me the last drink, so now I have to return it by buying you a drink.”
“But it's an open bar.” I put my hand to my chest and the smile on his face fills his whole fucking beautiful face.
“A wise woman once explained to me how these things work.” He takes his hands out of his pockets and holds one out toward the bar in the corner.
“That wise woman must be something else.” I start to walk and look over my shoulder at him, winking. “You should definitely listen to said woman.”
“I think I just might.” He chuckles as we zigzag through the people standing around and chitchatting
When we get to the bar, he looks at me. “What will it be?”
“I’ll have a bottle of water,” I tell him.
He turns the tables on me and sings, “Borrringgg.” It makes me bite my lip to stop from smiling and I don’t know why, but I just burst out laughing.
“I’m in training.” I turn the tables back at him and he points to me. I tap his hand away. “Besides, it’s about moderation,” I tell him, “which sounds as boring as ‘I’m in training’ but the rule of thumb is one glass of booze, one glass of water. I have failed miserably at that tonight since I’ve had about five shots and maybe one glass of water. So I figure having a whole bottle of water now will offset all the other drinks I’ve had without water.”
He puts his elbow on the bar, bending it and leaning into it, his bicep looking like it’s going to bust out of the suit jacket. “Is this another universal rule that I didn’t know about?”
“Well, considering you’re in training”—I lift my fingers up to do air quotes for the word “training”—“you wouldn’t really know this rule.”
“I’m really learning all kinds of interesting things tonight.” He winks at me and my stomach tingles and then it shoots into other areas that he should not be affecting, but is.
“Old dogs can learn new tricks.” I lean against the bar, mimicking his stance.
“How old are you?” he asks me.
“A little bit past a quarter of a century,” I tell him and he just stares at me. “What?”
“You couldn’t just say twenty-five?”
“That was a test.” I shrug. “Congratulations, you passed.”
“What’s the prize?” he asks me and my body flushes. I don’t know if it’s the booze or the heat or maybe it’s a bit of both.
“What do you want the prize to be?” I ask him, and his eyes just stare into mine. I wait a few seconds as he blinks a couple of times. I’m waiting for his answer, and before he can say a word, the bartender comes over.
“What can I get for you two?” he asks, putting a napkin down in front of each of us.
“I’ll have a water,” Jaxon orders, “and the lady will have—”
“A water and a cranberry on the rocks with a splash of vodka.” He nods his head at me as he walks over to grab the two water bottles, opening them, and putting them on the napkins in front of us before he walks over to make my drink.
“A splash of vodka?” he asks me and I nod my head.
“I usually like my drinks a light pink,” I inform him, “but I’m going to have to go easy on the booze until I get more water into me.”
“Like your cheeks.” He points to my cheeks.
“They are not pink.” I stand up and put both my hands on my cheeks.
“They were pink when you were flirting with me.”
“I was not flirting with you.” I laugh nervously and glance around to avoid looking into his eyes, and wait for the ground to open up so I can fall in and then die. I roll my eyes and grab the bottle of water to stop my mouth from saying something else. “You were the one who wanted to know what his prize was.”
“You said I won the game.” He points to me.
“Actually, I said you passed. I never said anything about the game.”
“Same thing.”
“So not the same thing.” I shake my head. “You’re flirting with me.” I point to my chest.
“So what have you been up to?” he asks and I take another sip of water.
“Did you just avoid what I just said so you don’t have to admit that you were the one flirting with me?” I ask him, my cheeks even feel like they are getting pink as he looks over at me with a smirk on his face that turns to a grin.
“Maybe”—he takes his bottle of water and drinks a sip—“or maybe not.”
“Work.” I put the bottle of water down when the bartender comes back, letting him off the hook.
“What do you do again?” he questions me and I tilt my head to the side.
“By saying the word again, it means you asked the first time and you forgot.”
“I know what you do.” He rolls his eyes. “It has to do with, like, social media and stuff.”
“Okay, fine, you get half the points,” I retort as the bartender places the drink down in front of me. “A perfect shade of pink,” I observe, holding up the glass and taking a sip of it. “So good.”
“So what is it that you do?”
“You know my mother started her social media company many, many moons ago.” He nods his head. “And she stuck mainly to players, but then after I graduated with my marketing degree, I’ve branched out under her company. She runs the side of the business with the players and stuff. I run the other side of the business that deals with sports brands. Each brand has their own social media accounts that were boring and dry, but I’ve been growing them for the last couple of years. We go over marketing plans every quarter and then I run with it by creating social media content. I’ve now started doing sports shows as well.”
“So if they are launching a new stick or whatever, they message you?” he asks me the question.
“Well, sort of. What they do is tell me who is using the stick. Then we set up video footage and then I’ll work with it to create all their marketing videos for social media only.”
He’s about to ask me another question when his sister comes up to him. “I’m leaving with Mom and Dad,” she says, getting on her tippy-toes before turning to me. “It was so good to see you.” She leans in for a hug. “Now that we’re following each other on social media, we can definitely keep in touch.”
“I would love that,” I reply, giving her a big hug. “Remember what I said, keep your head in those books. Boys are smelly at this age.” She laughs at me and so does Jaxon, who just watches her walk away. When she joins his parents, they all hold up their hands to say goodbye.
“I should also head out.” I take another sip of my drink. “I have an early flight tomorrow morning and missing it isn’t really an option and flying hungover is just”—I grab the bottle of water—“not a journey I want for myself.”
He chuckles. “Let me drive you home.”
“Okay,” I agree and then we walk around saying goodbye to everyone. As we walk out of the room, I head with him but stop at the elevator and press the button up. He looks over at me but doesn’t have a chance to ask me a question when the door opens, so he steps in with me and I press the button to my floor.
“Where are you going?” he asks as he turns to face me.
“You said you wanted to drive me home.” I laugh at him, my palms getting sweaty as the nerves now build up even more. It’s all fun and games playing this scenario out in my head, it’s another when it’s actually coming true. “I’m staying here at the hotel.”
He’s about to say something else, but the doors open and I take a step out. I don’t know if he’ll follow me or not. I don’t even know what is going to happen if he does come to my room. Do I say goodbye to him at my door, or do I invite him in? My head is spinning. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt as I get to the door.
He puts his hands in his pockets and he takes a deep inhale. “I don’t.”
I don’t say anything to him, I just open my purse and pull out my key card. I put it on the black round circle until we both hear the click of the lock. I push open the door and look over my shoulder. “Do you want to come in?” I ask him and he takes a step closer to me. I think I stop breathing when he’s standing in front of me, chest to chest. His hands go to my face at the same time his mouth crashes down. His tongue slides into my mouth at the same moment one hand wraps around my waist and then goes down to grab my ass before he picks me up, my heels not on the floor as the sound of the door clicks shut behind us.
five
Jaxon
The sound of the bells has me flicking my eyes open for a second before the sun hits me right in the face and my eyes close again. The bells stop ringing as the bed beside me moves. I feel the cover at my waist being pulled slowly across my lower half but not leaving me naked. I move my hand over my head and drift off to sleep again, only to be awakened by the fucking bells again.
I hear her groan beside me as she moves in the bed again, this time the alarm shuts off and she mumbles something. I open one eye, my head turning toward the window, the sky free of a single cloud. The sun blares as if it’s aimed straight for the room, straight on the bed like it’s a spotlight in the middle of the night.
“I have to get up,” she says from beside me. I turn my head on the pillow, my other eye opening to see her turned away from me on her stomach. The space in the middle of the king-size bed could fit another person. Her hair is across the pillow, her perfect back smooth as my eyes roam from the nape of her neck to her shoulder blades, and down to the curve of her ass, the top sheet covering the rest of her. “I should get up,” she mumbles as she moves a little and the sheet falls off of her a bit, showing me the curve of her ass. An ass that I’m very familiar with now, an ass that fits perfectly in both my hands. “I’m getting up.” Her face is still turned away from me and I see her hands are tucked under her. I try not to snort out with laughter at her having a full-blown conversation with herself. “I need a shower and then I’ll feel human.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “are you having this conversation with me or yourself?”
She turns on her side, but with her naked back still to me as she looks over her shoulder at me. “It was a private conversation,” she says with a straight face, “and you interrupted it.”
“I apologize,” I tell her and she turns back around, “you can continue.”
“Thank you. Now I’m really up,” she announces. “I feel like it’s going to be one of those days.”
“Do you have time for coffee or…” I watch as she turns just her head toward me, the hair now covering half of her face, but I can see her blue eyes staring at me.
“Depends,” she replies, licking her lips as she looks at me from my face to my chest, then to my covered package, which is already up and hard for her.
“We ran out of condoms at four a.m.,” I remind her and she rolls her eyes and I can’t help the little laughter that comes out of me when she groans out in frustration.
“I should be rushing out of bed right now. But I’ll make time to have coffee with you.” She turns over on her back, the sheet covering her from her waist down, as her arm goes across her chest, right on top of her tits. Which I sadly wanted to see more of. “I have to jump into the shower.” She moves her hand down to the sheet, and I see the red marks I made on her while she was riding me. It was the last condom we had and she said she wanted to be in charge. I wasn’t going to argue with her. I also couldn’t argue with her, since she reached over me to the package on the side table, and put the condom on me before she sank down on it. The memory makes my cock ache to get back inside her, and I think that maybe I could just order some condoms.
