The Stillness Of You(37)

He turned without a word and headed toward the door but paused, just before he opened it.

"You're wrong you know. I love you. All of you. Even the pieces that you   won't show me because all of that stuff makes up your circle and I   don't give a flying fuck if it's broken. I love every cracked and   fragmented piece of you. And when you're ready, I hope you'll trust me   enough to let me be the one to help you put those broken pieces back   together."

Oh, God. Why couldn't he be like a normal guy and just leave? Even now he was too good for me.

"So you go and see Seamus. You paint as many as those weird screaming   faces that you need to. You do whatever the hell it is that you need to   do to get to a place where you realize that this is the real deal and   that I'm not going anywhere. And when you're ready to choose me, when   you're ready to choose us, I'll be waiting."

He slipped out the door and left me in silence and for once, the stillness that I craved so much wasn't enough.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





Ben





I know that in the future when I look back on this night I won't   remember one minute or even one second of my first exhibition game   suited up as Flyer.

I won't see images in my mind of the crowd, of the black and orange, of   the fans or the players. I won't remember the coach's instructions, or   the shouts from my teammates, or even the rough words of encouragement   uttered in my ear by Matt. I won't remember much of the team we played   other than the Penguins didn't bring it and we won.

I'm sure I won't remember seeing my landscaper, Mike, in the stands or   my parents sitting just behind the bench with my sister Eden and some   guy she was dating who had more facial hair than I did in the playoffs.

I won't think about the crush of reporters outside the locker room, or   of how I'd barely been able to towel off before I was pulled into a   multitude of interviews.

This was what I had worked for my entire life. Getting to this point. Being here. Being a Philadelphia Flyer.

And yet the only thing I will remember is seeing Georgia in an oversized   Flyers jersey, leaning against the wall, her clear eyes on me. It was   the sweetest, hottest fucking thing I'd ever seen, and like a goofy   teenager my gut twisted and I felt as if I had been punched in the   throat.

I felt Georgia as if she was standing next to me. Against me. As if she was inside me.

Someone shoved another microphone in my face, but I sidestepped it, a   huge ass grin in place as she slowly turned in a circle so I saw my name   and number on her back. Lancaster. Number 9.

It was as if I'd been tattooed onto her and she belonged to me.

Dave from Sportsnet asked me something, I have no idea what it was-I   just nodded and pushed past him. I ignored the next reporter as well as   the many shouted congrats on a great opening game from the gathered   crowd.

I physically moved a female reporter out of the way and still in my   skates, walked through all of them, my eyes never leaving Georgia. When I   reached her, I felt like a goddamn giant and for a second I said   nothing.

I was scared shitless. Sure, she was here and that was a damn good sign but still …

A month ago I'd asked her to choose me. To trust me. And for the longest   time I thought I had fucked up. I thought that by not forcing myself  on  her that night I had lost her. And here she was.

Her eyes were shiny, glittering like pale blue/green diamonds and my   finger swept away a tear drop that clung to the edge of her lashes.                       
       
           



       

Her bottom lip trembled and for one perfect moment we were alone. There was no crowd. No players. No coaches.

Just Georgia and I.

"You came," I managed to get out.

She nodded and opened her mouth to say something but a switch turned on   inside me and I scooped her up into my arms, my hands in her hair, my   mouth on hers. I kissed her with all the emotion that had been clogging   up my airways for the past few weeks. We connected with our lips, with   our hands and our fingers and I felt her inside me.

And I don't think I came up for air until her hands crept along my jaw and I felt the sting of hot tears in my mouth.

We were both breathing pretty heavy by then and she struggled a bit before she could whisper. "I chose you, Ben."

She shuddered against me and for exactly two seconds I felt like the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the planet.

"But," she said softly, her eyes sweeping away as she bit her bottom lip. "Can we talk somewhere or … do you have to leave or … "

She was stumbling over her words and I was getting a sinking feeling in   my gut. But she chose me right? She wanted to be with me right?

"I'll do whatever you want, Peaches. Let me grab a quick shower and then   we can go back to my place. We can talk. Does that sound good?"

She nodded, pressing her face into my neck and I slowly let her slide   down, wincing as the outside world burst into our bubble. The noise. The   people.

"I love you," I whispered hoarsely into her ear. "Wait here. Don't move, okay? I'll be twenty minutes tops."

"Okay," she said softly, lowering her eyes in that way that drove me crazy as the crowd surged behind me. "I'll be here."

I dropped a kiss onto her forehead and then slid my mouth over her soft   lips, murmuring into her, "I love you. I can't fucking stop telling you   that."

"I know."





Chapter Twenty-Eight





Georgia





I chatted with Ben's parents and Eden while I waited for him, and I   managed to keep my head low. I didn't meet the eyes of any press and   none of them approached me. So far I hadn't spied any of the players and   I wasn't sure what I was going to do if I saw Rick Danby. Kind of   awkward to be with your boyfriend's parents and have one of your   ex-lovers walk by.

I was lucky and it never happened, mostly because Ben was the first guy   out of the dressing room and after quick hugs with his parents-who were   flying out to visit his other sister-he rushed me out of the Wells  Fargo  Center as if the place was on fire.

He signed a few autographs along the way and I loved watching him with   the young fans. They all adored him and he made them all feel special.   He posed for a few pictures and then we left.

I was nervous and I think it rubbed off on him because we didn't really   talk on the drive home. My left hand was threaded through his because I   needed to touch him and the feeling was mutual. The Foo Fighters  blasted  into the night and they didn't stop until we pulled up at his  place.

He cut the motor and for a moment there was nothing. No words or looks … just his thumb rubbing a slow, gentle circle on my hand.

"I have to show you something." My voice was soft, barely a whisper.

He turned to me and my breath caught at the look in his eyes. They   glittered in the light from the dashboard, the long lashes throwing   shadows down his cheeks.

"Okay," he said simply, brining my hand to his mouth. My heart skipped   erratically as he slid his lips over my knuckles, his eyes not leaving   mine.

I felt his touch as if he'd ran hot coals over my skin and I jerked, a   nervous reaction, and he smiled because he knew exactly how he affected   me.

My eyes dropped to his mouth and he shook his head. "Not yet. If we go   there now we won't even make it inside and Peaches, it's been a long,   hard month, but I don't want to have sex in the truck. I want you flat   out on my bed because I'm going to need some time to get reacquainted   with your body."

I was on fire. I was a molten mess of quivering girlie parts and all   he'd done was suggest sex. Reacquainted sex. God, could that be as hot   as make up sex?

He smiled that smile that could melt a frickin' ice queen's heart. "So what did you want to show me?"

I exhaled and reached for my door. "Follow me."

We walked around his house, Ben in his expensive navy blue suit, me in   my official Lancaster Flyer jersey, and headed for the barn. I knew he   was wondering what the hell was going on. As far as he knew I hadn't   been out to his place in over a month and up until this afternoon that   would have been correct.                       
       
           



       

But this afternoon my world tipped a little more toward happy and after   I'd visited with Seamus for the last time, I'd headed out here knowing   Ben was already at Wells Fargo doing press and stuff for his first  game.