Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(57)

Any time you're attracted to someone, you're drawn to them in some way, whether it be sexually or their personality, and then together you try to make it work. Sometimes it comes naturally, other times you have to work a little harder to be together.

Despite that, there are times when you are drawn to someone and you have no idea why it is that you have that attachment to them. You're brought together by some strange twist of fate and forced together. No matter how hard you try to ignore it, the feelings, those overwhelming anxious butterflies and their flappy wings, force you to find out more, believe more and want more.

That was me, the girl who wanted to know the man that saved me. I believed that fate brought us together, and I wanted it to be true. Me and those flappy winged butterflies were all about Evan Masen.

There was something that drew me in from the very beginning, a memory I had from when I was in the coma. It might be crazy to say, but it was his voice. I loved listening to his voice, just the sound calmed me, and I remembered it.

After showering, we lay there wrapped around each other in content silence, looking at one another, and I finally acknowledged that I wanted Evan no matter what. I wanted him more than a friend. It was as natural as breathing, as natural as dancing was for me, as natural as hockey came to him.

Evan told me he wasn't going anywhere, and I believed him. I believed him now. It was the natural thing to do, and that was why I was okay with this: moving on and being with him.





Clipping – Hitting an opponent below the knees. This will result in a penalty.



Game 82 – Detroit Red Wings

Sunday, April 11, 2010

(Home Game)




I woke up to the blare of my alarm on Sunday morning and didn't want to leave. Ami was in my bed with me, her head on my chest, bare legs draped over my midsection. Fuck if I didn't want to be buried between them.

I had to get up, or I was about to do just that.

There wasn't a lot of time, I had to be at the rink by six for our morning skate, so I had just enough time for a protein shake. I left Ami curled up in my bed, locked the door behind me, and left her note telling her I would be back around two and we could leave for the game then.

When I got to the rink, news had come in that Dave had been traded and our starting line defense was rattled. Dave Keller was traded to the San Jose Sharks.

Shit like that happened all the time in the NHL, and it was why you always had to be on your game. It wasn't like Dave did anything wrong either, nothing that we knew of anyway.

It was part of the unknown of being a professional athlete because you never knew when you would be in a different state, playing for an entirely different team. It was hard to make friends, build a home, and have a family. Maybe that was why they paid you so much?

Honestly, it shocked the hell out of all of us, but we got Jay Lucas from their team. Fuck if that guy couldn't destroy you on a simple body check. I definitely didn't want to tangle with him, even in practice. I made sure we were always on the same scrimmage team. No way was I meeting him against the boards.

"It smells like sex in here," Leo said, skating past me and then circling around, taunting me.

"Shut up."

"You know, you're not the first Blackhawk to get it on at the United Center." Leo looked around searching for Remy. When he found him taking shots at Cage before drills began, he laughed. "Remy f*cked some chick against the boards earlier in the year." He shook his head. "Remember our four game streak in November on home ice?"

"Yeah…" I said, not understanding where he was going with that.

"Remy says it's because he gave the rink some good luck juice." Leo gave a nod at Remy, who was making his way over to us. Cage nailed him in the back of the head with a puck again.

I groaned, skating away from Leo. "You're such a nasty f*cker."

Leo still hadn't had enough of taunting me and skated by, telling me not to fall on the ice and something obscene about f*cking a girl in the locker room two weeks ago. "Stop it," I warned him. "If you don't stop I'm gonna nail your ass to the boards."

He laughed, flipping me off. He thought I was kidding.

I wasn't.

All through practice I was thinking about Ami and then the game and then back to Ami and how f*cking good everything felt between us last night. I wasn't focused at all.





When I got back to my condo, Ami was sitting on the couch eating cereal, and I wanted a distraction before we played our biggest rival, the Detroit Red Wings. I wanted to feel what I felt last night.

Moments later, my pants were gone and hers were being removed.

I wanted to feel her beneath me on the bed, and she seemed cool with that, too, and let me carry her in there. My hands found the edges of her panties, getting ready to remove them. Her back arched and my heart pounded. She wanted it.

"Is this okay?" I asked, wanting to be sure, my voice low and gritty as my hands traveled the length of her body before settling between her legs, which were completely bare for the first time.

Ami nodded, the motion slow and calculated. Part of me wanted her to say no. I couldn't understand how she wanted this. Look at what she had been through. Wouldn't being physical with a guy be hard for a girl in her situation?

It wasn't for Ami and that was just another part that I struggled with.