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One-Timer: Chapter 19

LOWELL

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I don’t know who the fuck they were, but they were right.

We are currently on a six-game road trip with a four-game losing streak. I miss my bed. I miss Hollis’ bed. I miss having Hollis near me in my bed.

But most of all? Most of all I miss our baby.

“Well, that was a shit show.” Collin drops onto the bench next to me, popping his gear off with all the frustration I feel too. “We fucking sucked out there.”

I’m supposed to be the team captain. I’m supposed to come back with the rally in response and get us motivated to get out of this slump, supposed to get us ready and get us out there to win the next game.

But right now, I agree. We fucking sucked out there. We knew it. The crowd knew it. The other team knew it. Everybody knew it. We were not playing like the Cup-winning champions I know we can be, and it was frustratingly embarrassing.

I wish we were at home right now. If I’m playing shit hockey, I’d rather play shit hockey at home so at least I can go back home to Hollis.

We need to get our heads out of our asses and get those points back. We’re at too crucial of a point in the season to be letting everything slip away like this.

“Fuck,” Miller groans, plopping down on the other side of me. “How is it we played that bad and I’m this tired?”

I shrug. “Being away from home sucks.”

“You got that right. I don’t know how you guys do it, being away from your women all the time.” He bumps his shoulder against mine. “Pretty soon you’ll be away from your woman and your kid.”

“She’s not my woman.”

He sends me an incredulous look. “Dude, pretty sure she’s your woman. You’re having a kid with her.”

“So?”

“So, that makes her yours.”

“Nah. People co-parent all the time.”

“Yeah, but do other people sleep together and co-parent? Oh, wait. That’s not called co-parenting—that’s called a relationship,” Rhodes says from across the room, lifting a brow.

“Hey, now,” Collin chimes in. “Don’t go saying the R-word around Lowell. We all know he’ll run and hide.”

I look across the way to Smith, expecting him to back me up, but I don’t find a sympathetic look on his face. If anything, he looks like he agrees with the Three Stooges over here.

It annoys me that he agrees. Out of everybody in this room, Smith should know how I feel. He’s been married to the game longer than I have. Hell, he’s the one who taught me to shut my feelings off and just play.

That’s what I’m doing. I’m shutting down and shutting out everything else. I’m playing—albeit horribly—but I’m focusing on hockey and the baby. I’m not thinking about Hollis or how she has the power to crush my heart. I’m not thinking about that at all.

“Shut up,” I grumble to all of them. “Get dressed. We have a plane to catch.”

“Oooh, someone’s eager to get home to his woman,” Miller taunts.

“I just want you to know, Miller, when he clocks you, I’m going to laugh and laugh and laugh,” Rhodes says.

“I will also laugh. And possibly hold you down.”

“Hey!” Miller shoots daggers at Collin. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Exist.”


“Is this a normal occurrence in your life?” Miller leans into me, keeping his voice low as he stares out at the scene in front of us. “Because this is kind of making me uncomfortable.”

I know what he means. I get uncomfortable dealing with it too.

“Yeah. Happens a few times a week. But…” I lift a shoulder. “It’s worth it. I hope.”

Hollis is currently holding up a baby outfit that has giraffes on it and sobbing. It’s the crying that’s making Miller uncomfortable.

He grins. “Yeah, it’s worth it. I never thought I’d be into pregnant chicks, but Hollis looks hot all knocked up.”

I turn toward him with a glare that has him cowering back and holding his hands up.

“Hey, now…I didn’t mean anything by it. I just m-meant that, uh, um…”

“Miller?” I clench and unclench my fists, trying to talk myself out of punching the guy at our baby shower.

“Yeah?”

“Go. Away.”

“Roger that.”

He runs away faster than I’ve ever seen him move on the ice, and that’s saying something because the kid is fast as fuck on skates.

“Those are some rather territorial vibes you’re giving off about somebody you’re not even dating.” Smith sidles up next to me, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Because you’re allegedly still not dating, right?”

I ignore him, staring back out at Hollis, watching as she tosses her head back and laughs, wiping away her tears. Harper and Emilia are sitting on either side of her, Ryan on the floor with a pad of paper in her lap, jotting down notes for thank-you cards later.

My house isn’t sprawling big or anything, but I have a lot of room, especially compared to Hollis’ apartment. Though with the mountain of gifts surrounding her, I have no idea where I’m going to put it all.

Even though our schedule is exhausting and I’m pretty sure they’d all rather be somewhere else on their off day, the team showed up to support us in droves. Nearly every single member from our roster is here, and Coach Heller is over in the corner enjoying the finger foods with his wife. Hell, even our goalie, who is notorious for not liking kids, is here.

Not that I would ever admit it to any of these bastards, but it feels good to know they care about us enough to be here today. I know Hollis appreciates the support too.

She looks at me from across the room, and her face lights up the moment our eyes connect. She looks happy, so damn happy. It’s such a shift from the mascara-stained crazy woman I met last summer.

Craziest part is I’d take her both ways.

“Come on, man. You can’t really tell me you’re not dating—not when you’re looking at her like that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing going on.”

It’s a lie.

We both know it’s a lie.

I hate that we both know it just as much as I hate the look he’s giving me right now.

“Uh-huh. Sure. Right. Nothing at all.”

“What’s going on with you and Emilia? Is that nothing too?” I shoot back, and he snaps his mouth closed, looking a whole lot less cocky. I smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

“Nothing is going on with me and”—he swallows thickly—“her.”

I scoff. “You can’t even say her name.”

“I can too.”

“Prove it.”

He tips his chin up. “No. I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Weird. I don’t need to prove shit to you either.”

I shove past him, retreating into the kitchen for something, anything to get me away from him and his curious stare.

I open the fridge and look around, but I have no idea what I’m looking for. The baby shower was catered, and there’s nothing in here I could possibly take out there that’s going to make any sense.

“Are you hiding?”

In so many ways.

I turn around to find Hollis standing just inside the kitchen, her hand resting on her very pregnant belly.

The sunlight is poking in behind her, radiating around her like the beacon of light in a dark stormy night that she is. She’s gorgeous, and the urge to kiss her and touch her overpowers me.

I cross the open kitchen, grabbing her hand and dragging her down the hallway to my bedroom. I don’t stop until we’re inside and I have her back pressed against the door.

She gasps and blinks up at me with surprise when I press my erection into her.

“I’m not hiding. We’re hiding.”

“We are?”

“Yes, and I can’t believe you just dragged me in here to ravish me, you little minx.”

She grins. “Oh, I did?”

“Yes, you did.” I run my nose along her cheek. “And then you instructed me to push this entirely too sexy dress up and get on my knees so I can see your pretty cunt.”

She lets out a soft moan, and I haven’t even done anything to her yet.

“Lowell…we have guests.”

“So? They can wait. Besides, I’ll be quick.” I wink.

I sink to my knees, grab the hem of her dress, and lift. She has to adjust herself when the dress gets to her belly, and she sighs in frustration.

“Ugh. I’m so…”

I stop, looking up at her with a sharp stare. “I know you weren’t just about to say something disparaging about your body, Hollis.”

She shakes her head. “N-No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Depends. Will I get punished if I am?”

I start to push to my feet, and she quickly shoves me back down.

“Fine! Yes, I was going to say something about my…situation. You happy?”

“No.”

I hook my fingers into her panties, then drag them down her legs. I grab one leg and haul it over my shoulder, loving the way she shivers when the cool air hits her exposed pussy.

“One compliment, one lick.”

“Huh?”

I look up at her. “You say one compliment about yourself, and this beautiful pink cunt of yours gets one lick.”

“O-One lick? It’ll take more than that.”

“Then keep talking.”

“I…I don’t have anything to say. I—”

I go to push to my feet again, and she lets out a little squeak.

“I’m beautiful!” she shouts out, and I grin at the urgency in her voice.

I swipe my tongue over her, and she sighs. I pull away, and she whimpers.

“Keep going,” I encourage.

“I…I’m…I’m gorgeous.”

Another swipe.

“I’m adorable.”

Another taste.

“I’m cute.”

Another lick.

“I’m sexy.”

Another stroke.

“I’m yours.”

Mine.

I suck her clit into my mouth, and she cries out, her fingers tangling in my hair, playing with the strands as I get lost in the taste of her. I suck and kiss and eat, fucking her with my fingers and tongue, and I don’t let up until her legs are shaking and I’m practically holding her up.

“Please, Cameron. Please.

I rub that spot inside of her I know she likes and suck on her clit until she explodes, her body going stiff for a moment before coming down from her high. I sit back, admiring my work as she leans against the door, her legs still shaky and her breaths even shakier.

We don’t talk as I slip her panties back up her legs and right her dress before wiping my face and leading us back out to the party. In fact, we don’t utter a word all day until we lie down that night and slip between my sheets, where we use our bodies to speak all the words we could never say.


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