Chapter 11
Cady
November 29, 2014
“Do me a favor, Cady, and go find out how much longer the guys will be so I know when to start the grill,” Ever says as she dices some tomatoes for the salad.
I sneak a sliced, fresh mushroom off her cutting board and pop it in my mouth. “Sure thing,” I mumble around the lovely, earthy taste.
Zane and I are having dinner at Linc and Ever’s house. We were just here two days ago for Thanksgiving dinner, but they invited us over tonight to grill out. It’s my last night in Phoenix. Zane and I almost declined the invitation, preferring to spend our precious remaining time alone with each other. But then we realized that outside of having Thanksgiving dinner with them, and Zane’s hockey game last night, we had done nothing but lock ourselves up in his bedroom. We decided that perhaps it wouldn’t kill us to be a little social.
Now… it’s physically impossible to have sex continuously, and so that is not all we did in his bed. We did, however, stay almost the entire time there, even making our food and bringing it in there to eat. We watched TV, talked, and napped. We would have blistering hot sex, maybe nap some more, and then get a snack. We talked, talked, and talked some more, and while I thought I knew Zane pretty well because of the massive amount of communication we’ve had over the last four months, you obviously cannot know a person on a truly deep level until you can look into their eyes while they are talking to you.
It’s probably been the best weekend of my life, and I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to go back to Ireland, or to school. I don’t miss my family or my country. No, I want to stay here… with Zane… locked in his bedroom, secure in his arms, and have him continue to look at me with need.
Shaking my head, I walk through Linc and Ever’s sprawling house to the large den/man cave off the back of the huge living room. Linc and Zane are in there watching a football game, while Ever and I have been slaving in the kitchen. I can hear the faint sound of the TV and Zane and Linc’s voices filtering out as I walk closer to the den.
“…and if you say I sound like a girl, I’ll fucking pound you into the ground,” I hear Zane say grumpily.
I have to bite down on my tongue not to giggle. This sounds very interesting, and I can’t imagine what Zane said previously to make him worried about his man-card with Linc. I come to a halt, just a few feet from the den door, and listen in.
“Nah man… I get it. I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone, but it was torture being away from Ever when I moved out here to Phoenix. I thought about giving up hockey more than once to be with her.”
My eyebrows raise and my heart trips a little over the love in Linc’s voice. To know he’d give up that which was most important to him is so fucking sweet that my teeth hurt.
“So you don’t think I’m stupid for even thinking of such a crazy idea?” Zane asks, and my heart really starts hammering hard.
Wait… what? Zane isn’t thinking of giving up hockey, is he? No way!
“It’s not like you’re giving it up,” Linc says. “Just taking a break. And besides, some of the European leagues are quite good. Nowhere near the money, but your talents won’t languish and you’ll still be in prime shape if you want to come back to the NHL.”
My head starts spinning over the implications of what I’m hearing. As much as Zane and I have talked this weekend, we have steered clear over the big elephant in the room, which is the fact that we live with an ocean separating us. It’s a known fact that when I return to Ireland, it will be a very long time before I can come back to visit… probably next summer. That has weighed heavy on me. As my return flight got closer and closer, I was getting even sadder over leaving.
But never in a million years would I imagine Zane would think about leaving the States to be with me. He simply can’t give up his professional hockey career here. I’ve learned enough to know that professional sporting careers can be brutally short, given the chance of serious injuries. I know that he literally can’t afford to walk away from what he has right now. It would be professional suicide for him.
And I’m sorry… I think I’m pretty fucking great, but I am so not worth that.
Most people would tiptoe away, so as not to get caught eavesdropping. Some would just stand hiding out there, waiting until the conversation changed course, and then make an entrance.
Not me, though.
I storm through the open den door. Linc is sprawled out in a recliner, and Zane is sitting on a huge leather couch with his back to me.
“You absolutely cannot leave the NHL,” I snap at Zane, who turns around to look at me with a surprised look on his face.
“Well, hello to you too, you hot Irish lassie,” he says with a grin, completely disregarding what I just said.
I stomp around the couch and glare down at him, hands on my hips. “Don’t evade. I overheard you, and you are not leaving to come to Europe. I won’t allow it.”
Linc snickers behind me, and Zane shoots him a wink. Grinning up at me, his hands shoot out and grasp my hips, pulling me down swiftly on to his lap. “You’re so cute when you’re angry and indignant,” Zane quips as he pushes his face into my neck to nip at me.
My hands come up to his shoulders, and I push at him until he leans back to look at me. “I’m serious, Zane. Please tell me you are not actually considering this.”
The carefree grin on his face slides a little, replaced with a guilty look. “Just tossing the idea around with Linc. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. Besides, I couldn’t do it right away. Maybe next year if things keep on between us the way I think they will.”