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Forever Pucked(39)

By:Helena Hunting


"If she wants a career? You think she won't?"

He lifts his good shoulder in response.

"She could've moved here, dropped out of college, and sponged off you,  but she doesn't. She pays rent, and she actually thinks it's going  toward the mortgage."

"Putting money into stocks for her is a good financial investment."

"I'm not saying it isn't. But she very easily could've shacked up with  Buck and not paid rent at all. She chose not to. Just like I chose to  live in that shitty apartment for a while with my stinky, metal-loving  stalker neighbor. Just like I want to keep my job in some capacity, at  least for a few more years until I get used to all of this." I gesture  to the room and the massive bed we're lying on.

"I don't want to take away the things that make you you, Violet." Alex  seems distressed, maybe by the parallels I've drawn between me and  Sunny. "That's never been my intention. I want to build us a life that's  going to allow you to do all the things you want and more."

I touch his pretty, beat-up face. "I know that. It's just …  It can be  scary being engaged to a man who can give me everything, because this is  all I have." I gesture to my rack, trying to lift the weight of this  conversation.

Alex doesn't take the bait. "Baby, you underestimate how incredible you  are. Even though it's a challenge and sometimes seriously inconvenient  for me, I love that you assert your independence, that you have your own  mind."

His acknowledgement makes me feel all warm and gooey, liked melted  caramels. "So you get that Sunny needs to be her own person. She doesn't  want to be defined by who she's with, either. It's kind of the reason  she was hesitant to date Buck in the first place."

"She was hesitant about Miller because he fucked anything with a pulse."

"Okay, fine. That was part of it. But she wants to take care of herself,  not have everyone else do it for her. And she didn't want to end up  being like your mom."

"There's nothing wrong with the way my mom did things."

"Maybe the way your mom did things was right for her, but that doesn't  mean it's right for everyone. Isn't it for Sunny to decide what's right  for her?"

"Of course it is. But babies change things, Violet. Priorities change."

He has a point. "Okay. I can see that. Maybe she'll decide to forgo the  career and have enough children to start a hockey team." I shudder at  the possibility of shooting multiple kids out of my vagina.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Do you have any idea what happens to a vagina when a litter of babies  are pushed out of it? I don't want to end up with a baggy beaver."

"You won't end up with a baggy beaver from having a few kids."

"A few?" He's said something similar before. I want to know what constitutes a few. "As in more than two?"

"I kind of like the idea of a big family." Alex skims the side of my boob with his fingertips.

I prop myself up on an arm so I can look him directly in the eye. "When you say big, what do you mean, exactly?"

Alex looks unsure of himself. "I don't know. Four kids seems reasonable, maybe more."

"Four?" If I sound incredulous, it's because I am.

"You think that's too many?"

"Uh, I'll definitely have a baggy beaver if I push four kids out."

"Things go back to normal."

"No, they don't."

"Come on, Violet. It can't really be that bad."

"Is that you hypothesizing, since you can't actually push a hockey puck out of your dick hole?"

Alex cringes, which I can understand. The image I've created is rather unappealing.

"You're still tight like you were the first time we had sex, and we've  been together for more than a year. You'd think if I was going to  stretch things out, it would've happened already."

He's got a half-smug, half-horny smirk on his half-healed face.

"Yeah, but you're comparing a beer can to a watermelon. It's not the  same thing. I can see after pushing one watermelon out, things might go  back to mostly normal, and maybe you wouldn't notice much beaver  bagginess. But after three or four, things aren't going to be the same."

He gives me this look, like he thinks I'm being dramatic.

"Haven't you seen that documentary with that female porn star who had  all that anal sex? She had a nice, normal Area 51 until it wasn't nice  and normal anymore. Now it's all loose and baggy, just like my beaver  would be if I happened to pop out a hockey team's worth of babies."                       
       
           



       

"So you don't want a big family?"

"I'm an only child, Alex. I think I turned out almost okay even though I  never had a sibling until I was in my teens. I figure if I have two  kids, they'll drive each other nuts, and they won't be lonely or have to  deal with either one of us without backup when we're old and  crotchety."

"What about compromising at three?"

"Odd numbers don't work for me. I don't like them. If your team number  was odd, I think I might not have found you all that attractive."

"My number is odd."

"Not when you add it together."

I'm being an asshole, but seriously. Alex is talking about what seems  like a minimum of four kids. I'll low-ball it to something more  reasonable, like two, and if he gets more than that it'll seem like a  win for him.

Honestly, though, I can't imagine the damage three babies will do to my  body. I like my boobs. Alex loves my boobs. Three babies will turn them  into empty sacks, according to all the horrible conversations I've  overheard from women I work with. And babies interfere with sex. I don't  want to deal with that yet either.

"I don't know why we're talking babies when we don't even have our wedding planned."

Alex's jaw tightens, and he retracts his arm from around me. Oh, shit.  I've hurt his feelings. He seems like he's about to get up and possibly  leave the room.

"Which I think we should talk about," I add.

He's halfway into a sitting position. He drops back down on the pillow and eyes me warily. He looks uncertain. Afraid, even.

I sit up and face him, crossing my legs. "You're going to have some time  on your hands while you're waiting for your shoulder to heal."

He still looks unhappy.

"So I figure it's probably a good idea to plan something for the summer, before you have to start hardcore pre-season training."

He stares blankly at me.

"Unless you think you're going to be too busy with physical therapy. I  mean, then maybe we should just wait until the following off-season … " I  poke at the hole in my sock until my middle toe peeks out.

"You want to get married this summer?" Alex sounds like he's having a hard time believing it could be possible.

"You'll have the time to help me plan it. I know I'm organized with  numbers, but that's really about the only thing. There won't likely be  another year where the timing will be on our side. We can make the best  out of an unfortunate situation." I peek up at him. He's still frowning.  "I thought you'd be excited about setting a date."

"I would be if it didn't feel like you were only doing this to make me  feel better about being out for the season." He's sulking. He's so cute.  And sensitive.

"It has nothing to do with that!" I say. Then I consider my reasons and  decide I should rephrase. "Okay, so it has everything to do with you  being out for the season."

Alex pushes back up into a sitting position. I grab his good arm before  he can try to run away from me. Not that he would be very fast, but I  don't want him to hurt himself. "You're misunderstanding me. This  accident opened my eyes to a lot of things, the most pivotal being how  important you are to me."

That stops him. He shifts so he can look at me. He's still stiff, but  he's sensitive, so I assume he's trying to reconcile his fragile ego.

"I know how hard this is on you. I know it's killing you to see Randy  doing so well. That's not why I want to marry you this summer. This-" I  gesture to his body, because there are a lot of parts that are still  injured. "-made me very aware of how we only get one shot at life."

"I don't want this decision to be fear-based," Alex says.

"It's not." I take his hand in mine and play with his fingers. His nails  are longer than usual. Probably because he can't cut them on his own.  "Look, my mom's wedding wasn't fun for me. And you know how I am when I  get into a group of people. I always make an ass out of myself. But I'm  willing to deal with that kind of potential humiliation if it means I  get to spend the rest of my life with you."

He regards me for a long moment. "You really want to get married this summer?"

I nod.

"And it's not because you feel bad for me?"

"I wouldn't marry you just to make you feel better about yourself, Alex.  Usually your ego is plenty big without my help, anyway."