We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Consider Me: Chapter 46

YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT

OLIVIA

THE SPEED with which I race home from work on Thursday to see Carter is embarrassing. I trip over my own two feet as I burst into the house, calling his name.

I drop to my knees to give Dublin pets as he licks my face, and I’m still calling for Carter as I move through the house.

He’s not home. His overnight bag on the bed tells me he’s been home at some point, and there’s a single rose laying over my pillow next to a small package of chocolate-covered Oreos, decorated with mini M&Ms. A scrap of paper lies next to the treats.

Win or lose tomorrow, I don’t have to spend a single night away from you for the next three months, and nothing makes me happier.

I fucking love you.

I tuck the note away in the bedside table with all the others he leaves and pull my vibrating phone from my pocket as I make my way downstairs with my rose and cookies.

World’s Sexiest Man: hi princess. sorry I’m not home. *sad emoji* coach has us going over some footage. i’ll pick up dinner on way home. luv u *kiss emoji* *tongue emoji*

I’m greedy and I don’t want to wait any longer to see him. But I tuck my irrational sadness away and leash up Dublin, taking him for a hike on one of the forested trails before we curl up on the couch with The Office reruns. Dublin’s out immediately, exhausted from the trek, and it doesn’t take me long to follow.

I wake to someone fiddling with my fingers, barely registering Dublin jumping down from the couch. Blinking away the blurriness, my gaze finds Carter as he rises to his feet. He’s grinning down at me, sucking on a damn Ring Pop of all things.

“I thought you were off junk food.” The words are groggy as I try to sit up. I want to jump into his arms but my body’s not cooperating. Carter and I were on FaceTime well after midnight, as were Cara and Emmett—in another room, for good reason—and then I had to deal with Cara at work again all day today. Tired doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling. My only solace is that Cara will be sleeping in her own bed tonight.

“It’s a celebration. It’s the weekend this house officially becomes our family home, and the weekend I bring home the cup.” So much joy lives in his expression, endless excitement dancing in his eyes, and it only spurs my own happiness.

“I can’t honestly tell what you’re more excited about.” My arms fly overhead with my yawn, and I note the heaviness to my left hand.

“You being with me. Forever.”

I hear the words. I appreciate the hell out of them. But I’m too busy staring down at the red Ring Pop he’s stuck on my ring finger. “Why do I have a candy ring on my finger?”

Carter’s still grinning like an idiot—a sweet, handsome idiot. He sucks his ring into his mouth. “I just wanna pretend you’re mine.”

“I am yours.” Haven’t we covered this?

“For all eternity, I mean.” Carter picks up my hand, his finger tracing over my nails before sliding down to the ring. His brilliant green eyes find mine, alive and radiant. “So this is temporary until I replace it with one you cannot eat.”

“W-w-w—” I stop, because I simply cannot. I’m not sure what I’m attempting to say. We’ve talked about marriage, yet this feels like…more. I can’t explain it, and my mouth agrees, which is why my jaw opens and closes several times.

With a tender smile, Carter cups my face. “You’re the cutest when I render you speechless.” He swoops me into his arms and starts toward the staircase. “Now let’s go. I need to show you how much I missed you, and my dick needs to make a home inside you.”


Carter’s already left for his morning skate when I wake up. He barely slept last night, his hands spending most of the night anxiously roaming my body. I swore I could hear the wheels turning, his nerves for the game tonight getting the best of him. It wasn’t until two when I turned over in his arms, ran my fingers through his hair and down his back, that he finally drifted to sleep.

Though I only got five hours of sleep and usually require eight to function, I’m feeling exceptionally chipper this morning. I had one personal day to use up before the end of the school year, and you bet your ass I took it today. That also means I have no working Fridays left since exams only go until Thursday next week. Four more workdays and I’m home free.

Dublin and I head out back to enjoy the sunshine while I eat my breakfast, and when Carter walks through the door, I’m on the phone with Cara for the second time this morning, discussing what outfit she should wear tonight.

“Part of me wants to be super sexy for Em tonight and just wear one of his jerseys and heels, but then, like, I’m worried it’s gonna be cold in the arena. And also, is it inappropriate? It’s huge, so it covers my ass.”

“Inappropriate,” I murmur as Carter comes up behind me, hugging me around the waist and kissing my neck. He pats his chest and when Dublin jumps up, Carter lifts him into his arms, carrying him around like he’s a baby instead of a sixty-five-pound dog.

“You’re no fun.” I can hear Cara’s pout through the phone.

“I’m plenty of fun, but I have no desire to accidentally flash any people or cameras my ass or vagina.”

Carter’s eyes hood, brows pulling together as he angry-mouths Only for me. His face lights like a slot machine when I slip his breakfast on a plate, and he somehow manages to sit at a stool, keep the dog on his lap, and scarf down his meal, all while humming happily.

“I bet Carter would appreciate you wearing nothing but his jersey.”

Carter’s lips purse as he considers Cara’s word. His head starts bobbing, and he purrs with satisfaction as he munches his toast. “In our house only.”

“Listen to you two,” Cara gushes. “Our house. Adorable. See, Liv, right from the start I said, ‘That Carter Beckett is good news.’ I knew you’d be the perfect couple.”

“That’s not exactly how I remember that conversation going. In fact, I distinctly remember you putting me in a headlock and screaming no! at me.” I pat Carter’s chest when he pouts. “It’s okay. Took us a little while but we got where we needed to be, didn’t we?”

Before I can catch Cara’s response, Carter tugs the phone from my hand. “’Kay, Care, Liv needs to go now. See you toniiight.”

“But I have to talk to her about my wedding!” I hear her shriek, but Carter ends the call and sets my phone down.

His arms wind around me, pulling me close. “Do you think she’ll be a nightmare for our wedding too?”

“I think I’ll just hand over the reins and let her do whatever the hell she wants. It’ll be easier than fighting with her.”

“Hmm.” With his hands in the pockets of my shorts, Carter twists me side to side. “Good idea. We like to keep crazy Cara in her cage.”

Sighing, I snuggle into his chest. “Somebody already let her out and it’s terrifying.”

Carter laughs, a gruff, rumbly sound that makes my body warm. His hands glide over my hips, dipping under the edge of my shirt, running up my sides. “I love that you took today off so you could give me good luck sex before the game.”

“That’s not why I took today off, Carter.”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he whispers. He lifts me onto the counter, dragging my shirt slowly over my belly. I raise my arms to let him slip it off, and his eyes twinkle as he takes me in. “Good luck sex.”

And good luck it is, because Carter scores the first goal of the game only four minutes into the first period. Halfway through the third period, the Vipers are up 3–2, Cara’s losing her ever-loving mind, Hank’s repeatedly said he’s glad he’s blind because he’s too nervous to watch, and Holly’s nearly ripping out fistfuls of her hair. Words are no longer possible for me. I feel like I’m going to vomit from the nerves, and Jennie’s lounging in her chair, chowing down on licorice like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Until someone checks Carter into the boards from behind when he’s got his head down, eyes focused on the puck. Thankfully, he shakes it off and climbs back to his feet, but the whistle’s already blown and Jennie’s not having it.

She leaps to her feet, tossing the licorice at me as she slams her palms on the glass. “Toss that fucker in the penalty box! Go back to New York! We play real hockey here, you fucking douche-waffle!”

I snort a laugh and Carter shakes with laughter as he climbs onto the bench. Emmett slaps the glass and hollers, spurring Jennie on, and Garrett peers up at Jennie with this little half smile as he shuffles down the bench.

Carter gets a quick once-over from their trainer to make sure all is okay. Once he’s given the go-ahead, he hits me with a wink, finding a way to make squirting water into his mouth look like the sexiest thing in the world.

“Yeah, you sit your ass in there!” Jennie screams at the offender as he makes his way to the penalty box. “Get nice and cozy in there, dipshit, ’cause that’s your home for the next five minutes!” She drops back to her seat, ripping the licorice out of my hand. “Fucking dickhole.” She looks my way with a dazzling, dimply smile. “I’ve got a little bit of my older brother buried somewhere deep down.”

I nab a Twizzler from her hand. “Yeah, I can certainly see that.”

The Rangers’ goalie is all but standing on his head tonight, and he manages to stop every single shot on him over the next five minutes. With the penalty over and only a few minutes left in the game, we’re still up by one.

Until we’re not. With thirty seconds left, there’s a battle for the puck behind the net. Adam’s head whips wildly, trying to keep track of it when another player slips in, steals the puck, and slides it right by his foot.

The game is tied. We’re going to overtime.

Adam’s a wreck as the period comes to an end, and Carter swings an arm around his shoulders as they make their way through the players’ tunnel for a quick break and regroup. Fifteen minutes later, with the ice ready to go and the low thud of the music that drives my anxiety through the roof, I hear Carter’s booming voice.

Everyone close enough gathers around to watch his speech, the team lining the wall as Carter paces the length of the tunnel, pointing his stick, clapping helmets, hyping his boys up.

“We’ve come way too fucking far to let this slip away. The transformation we’ve made from day one to here is un-fucking-believable. I’ve never been prouder of a group before, and let me tell ya something, this is one hell of a fucking group!”

“Oh my,” I accidentally murmur out loud. Heat rushes through me, and I barely resist the urge to fan my face.

“I’ve never been more attracted to Carter in my life,” Cara breathes.

“I will literally let him do whatever he wants to me tonight.” I’m more meaning to think it, not say it out loud, which is probably why I earn an elbow in my ribs from Jennie. “Sorry.” I look to Holly; she lifts her shoulders.

“I’m counting down the days until I become a grandma. Bring it on.”

All righty then.

Carter’s voice gets louder, and I keep getting hotter.

“We can do it! This is it! This is the team! My fucking team! My boys! I love this fucking team, so get your asses out there and let’s bring this fucking cup home! Let’s fucking do it, boys!”

The tunnel erupts as Carter ushers them onto the ice, slapping every single one of their asses. The crowd turns feral as their home team takes the ice for overtime in the Stanley Cup.

Carter waves me over before stepping onto the ice. He taps his cheek. “Good luck kiss.”

“Oh, baby.” I take his face in my hands. “You don’t need luck.” I kiss his lips, then his cheek. “Now get your sweet ass out there.”

His crooked smile is electric, pulling his dimples in. “And score you a goal?”

“Eh. Only if you feel like it.”

You should know—if you don’t already—that Carter is an unstoppable force when he’s motivated. The man is the most relentless human being I’ve ever known. No isn’t an option for him; if he wants it, he’ll find a way to make it happen.

Which is why he takes off like lightning on his second shift, racing up the boards after the puck is poked loose. His head just barely tips in both directions, looking over his shoulder for his linemates as he moves fluidly up the ice, but they’re not with him.

“It’s you!” Emmett hollers from behind.

The entire arena is on their feet.

“All you, baby!” Garrett races up his right, trailing him. “Let it fly!”

And the crowd is silent.

My heart’s in my throat as I watch Carter slip effortlessly by one defenseman, then twirl around the other. Holly’s gripping my hand so hard the tips of my fingers are numb. Cara and Jennie have their faces pressed up against the glass, and Hank’s got his buried in his hands, for what purpose, I’m not sure.

Carter finishes his spin with flair, lifting one foot off the ground, and takes note of the forward who’s flying toward him, ready to send him straight into the boards. But Carter looks oddly calm.

He pops the puck off the ice on the blade of his stick as he dodges left, turns halfway around, and flicks that puck right over the goalie’s shoulder.

The arena’s a freaking zoo. All of us are crying, even Hank, and Carter gets tackled to the ground as his entire team piles on top of him. Adam whips down the ice, throwing his stick, glove, and blocker to the side as he finishes the dogpile, jumping on top of everyone.

Seriously, I can’t stop crying. I regret letting Cara do my makeup. I wipe at my cheeks and my fingers come away smeared with black.

Cara’s weeping. Weeping. “I’m gonna let that man put a baby in me next weekend,” she sobs, slapping the glass. “I love you, Emmy! I love you and your big, magical dick, baby!”

We watch them roll out the carpet as both teams line up. The Stanley Cup is carried out and placed down on a table as another hush falls over the arena, only the odd holler and whistle echoing through, bouncing off the high ceilings. In a turn of events, Carter gets to present the trophy for the most valuable player.

“Every single guy on this team is invaluable,” he starts, talking into the microphone. “Every single one of them. But we wouldn’t be where we are right now if it weren’t for this guy right here.” He points at Adam, who stumbles backward in shock before the guys push him forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, on your feet for the best fucking goalie in the world!”

“Courtney fucked that one up, huh,” Jennie hums.

Cara claps her hand. “She sure as hell did.”

When the Vipers are left alone on the ice, the cup is the captain’s to hold first. Carter reaches for that huge, shiny silver trophy, but pauses, his hands hanging in the air.

He twists slowly, gaze finding mine, and he starts gliding across the ice to me. He opens the door to the tunnel, gesturing for me, and my cheeks blaze. This is his accomplishment; I don’t want to take anything away from him.

But still, I go to him, because I always will.

“Congratulations, baby,” I whisper, grinning down at him and smacking my tears away.

He crooks a finger at me. “Come here.” He brackets my chin in his hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making me feel like everything is within my reach if I work hard enough. This is amazing. Everything I dreamed of as a kid. But it’s you who makes my world complete.” He touches his lips to mine. “I love you.”

With a wink and a smile, Carter steps back onto the ice. My heart bursts in my chest as he lifts that cup above his head, letting out a wild, unrestrained scream that the entire arena echoes back at him.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset