Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(78)

"Hmm…you always seem so level headed to me."

"Nope..." My lips found hers. "Not always."

I did have another tattoo, well a few. Nothing really meaningful. One tattoo was of a pair of hockey gloves and stick on my shoulder, surrounded by the logo of the team my dad played for when my mom got pregnant with me. That was meaningful for me because he gave up everything for me.

I picked up the clippers, and Ami reached for them. I glanced at her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Mind if I try?"

"Are you serious?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I don't know, you might slip and cut my hair. Leo did."

"Why the f*ck would you have let Leo shave your beard?"

"We were drunk. Shit happens when you're drunk with a group of hockey players."

"Well..." Ami reached for the clippers again. "I'll be careful."

"I don't know. I saw your stick skills."

"What? Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest; a pouty look came over her.

"Here." I handed her the clippers.

She refused to take them. "No. I don't want to anymore."

"Ami." I lowered my voice and my head, trying to catch her eyes, placing my hands back on her thighs. I spread them wider, stepping closer. "Please? I trust you," I whispered. I held the clippers in my hand against her thigh, begging her to believe me.

What started out as playful and teasing was suddenly very intimate when those starry blues found mine. With my chin raised, her hands on my jaw angling it the direction needed, she brought the clippers to my face and made the first swipe. Intently focused on her, I watched carefully, feeling the love penetrating from every part of her.

My eyes drifted closed, reminded of how different this year had been from the last time I shaved this beard. Never did I think it would have gone this way.

By the time she made the last pass over my jaw, my heart was pounding from the memories over the year, including the ones I tried to forget.

When she finished, she traced her fingers along my jaw, removing the tiny hairs that remained. I hummed softly at the touch, leaning into her palm before pressing a lingering kiss there.

When her eyes found mine, they were dark with passion. I didn't have to wait long before she leaned forward, hungrily possessing my mouth.

I knew, without a doubt, this, Ami, being with her, would forever be the best goal I'd ever snagged.





Celly – A celebration when a goal is scored.




On the surface, Evan wanted to have a good time and be the twenty-one-year-old kid that he was. When people really needed him, he was the most dependable guy. What I loved about Evan from the very beginning was that he wore his heart unabashedly on his sleeve. He didn't play games with my heart or my head.

He was gentle in ways you would have never expected a guy like him to be. When the darkness colored my mind, he was with me, bringing with him the light I needed.

His sense of humor, his kindness, his warmth, his courage, and his quiet confidence inspired me. There was only one side to Evan. Through his family and friends, I learned it was the same side he showed everyone. If he was mad, you knew it. If he was happy, you felt it and lived it, and if he loved you, he showed it and you believed it.

When you thought about it, our presence in the world was actually very small. It was our presence in the lives of others that made the world what it was. Every word we said, every gesture we made, every detail connected you to that presence you made whether you knew it or not.

When bad things happened, they happened. There was nothing you could do about it.

You tried to prepare and tell yourself you'd be okay, but the truth was you were never prepared. You had to keep in mind that there was an end to everything. There was a beginning, a middle, and eventually an end, whether you wanted there to be one or not. It was all about surviving it.

"What do hockey players do during the off-season?" I asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Leo, Remy, and Callie were over, all sitting around drinking beer and eating pizza.

Evan cleared his throat, obviously wanting to say something dirty, but he hesitated with his boys around, not wanting to embarrass me.

Instead, he nodded to his bedroom with a wink. As discretely as I could, I got up and walked down the hall to his room. He followed along with me, screams and whistles coming from the living room.

I wasn't sure how long it lasted, two, maybe three minutes, but I'd never felt as desired as I did when Evan clutched at me so desperately, gasping my name over and over again.

He held me there against the wall, both of us panting.

"What is it that they do?" I grinned with a mischievous smile.

"They have sex, Ami. Lots of sex." He chuckled, knowing I wouldn't let it go.

Evan was right. They had lots of sex. Lots. The other thing they did was enjoy some much needed time off. I wasn't working. Evan didn't want me to just yet, so instead we went on vacations. We spent a lot of time with his parents, and then finally, Evan asked if I wanted to go to Oregon for the weekend.

The truth was, I was scared to go back, but I knew eventually I'd need to. I hadn't been back to Lebanon since November. I used to think our small town, buried in the middle of nowhere, had everything I ever needed. It was a place where nothing happened and nothing would change. But things did change.