XXIII

I'm having a little trouble choosing a song for the current chapter. Anyway, I'm loving this at the moment: Rihanna - Cheers



We had spent the day lying around the house, watching TV and making food. Dad had returned home and left for the arena, having some work to do with the other coaches before tomorrow's match. Jordan was going away for a week to play five matches somewhere in Ontario. I was planning on enjoying every last moment with him.

As well as our new relationship, my cast was due off in two weeks - something I was really excited about. It had been a pain, reducing showers and other everyday tasks to sheer frustration.

On top of all this, it was March and Jordan's training sessions seemed to be increasing. Dad was happy that the Petes had been winning lots of matches and he was certain of winning the league or the championship or whatever. Jordan was attracting lots of press surrounding the NHL draft in the summer and it was rumoured he was going to go in the top 10.

"It's a lot of pressure," he said as we lay snuggled up on the sofa. "Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it."

I lay pretty much on top of him, my head across his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. "But then I don't know what else I would do. I would regret not going pro. And Marc and Eric have done it. It's like I'm destined to do it..." he tailed off.

"And Jared?" I added.

"Jarhead's a long way off at the moment. He lacks drive and his ginger hair gets him in trouble. He sees red all the time. We always picked on him when we played, runt of the litter... He has to fight his way out of everything and that stops him playing well. Good players don't fight," Jordan explained.

"So you're definitely a fighter then?" I joked.

Jordan reached around and grabbed a cushion, whacking my back with it. "I'm a lover, not a fighter!"

"You did not just say that!" It was one of the goofiest things I had heard him say.

"Babe, I hate fighting."

I ignored the 'babe'. "OK Casanova, you're not a fighter then. Because you're good."

"Yeah I'm good, I'm the best."

"And modest too! Don't let it go to your head," I said getting up to get myself a drink. Jordan followed me into the kitchen and helped himself to a protein shake. My Dad was constantly trying to get him to bulk up more for his frame. He was big, everything about him was large, but Dad reckoned he could carry more muscle. And it would help his transition into the NHL.


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Whilst Jordan was generating a lot of interest before the summer draft, I was beginning to get some replies from my college applications. I had been offered places at UCLA and Miami which I was really pleased about. I was still waiting for a couple more replies.

I hadn't made any more decisions, I just had to work hard to get there. When I wasn't at school or spending time with Jordan, more and more of my time was spent at my desk, pouring over books and study guides.

It was March and exams were just around the corner and I was worried about how much to do.

"Stop worrying, you're super clever, you'll ace them," Nat had said one afternoon during a study period. It wasn't that, but no one could succeed in an exam without being fully prepared.

"Where's loverboy today?"

"Somewhere like London or Kitchener," I said not looking up from my paper. "I miss him."

Nat made a barfing noise and pretended to gag. "You two are so disgustingly adorable that it makes me sick." I smiled, thinking about the Sunday just gone where we had spent the entire day wrapped up in one another.

We had spoken nearly every day that he had been on the road. He sounded exhausted but it was nice to chat to him each night before I fell asleep.

"Stop dreaming and concentrate on your algebra" Nat said. "Loverboy has nothing to do with trig equations."


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"Are you coming to Lizzi's party?" I asked Nat as she dropped me home after class. She shrugged, she wasn't that close to Lizzi but she wasn't one to turn down a party. Nat normally gets invited to these things way before I do. By the sounds of it Lizzi had gone all out with a mardi gras theme. Jordan was also due back that night and he had promised me he would meet me at the party. Then Lizzi had begged him to bring a couple of teammates.

"Maybe, what the hell do you wear to Mardi Gras, that well-known Peterborough festival?" Nat snarked as we came to a stop sign. There had been birthday parties every weekend - and they were all good. Lizzi's theme was different and she had invited so many people that it promised to be one of the best yet.

I shrugged. I hadn't even really thought about it much. My mind had been on my work and on Jordan.


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The party was in full swing when we got there. I had found a gold sequin dress and a carnival mask having trawled vintage shops looking for something suitable. Lizzi had draped us all in mardi gras beads when we arrived and the venue was decked out in purple, green and gold. I've never been to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but if it was half as good as this party seemed, it would be worth going.

I headed straight for the bar where Lizzi had two muscular barmen in bowties and aprons. The cocktail list was extensive so Nat and I wasted no time in ordering a couple of drinks. "I want to be too drunk to function," Nat commented after knocking back her first one. Bryan, another guy with a bike she had liked had cheated on her.

"Not too drunk to function, Nat. There's a guy over there giving you the eye."

Nat swirled round, scowling, but didn't see the guy I was pointing at. She could literally have any guy she wanted.

Many cocktails later and maybe an hour after Nat had passed out and been taken home, I saw a familiar tall figure heading towards me. A pair of strong arms looped around my waist and my senses were overwhelmed by that cologne that I loved. "Hey," he whispered into my ear before kissing me softly on the lips.

I followed Jordan over to the bar where he ordered me a cocktail and a shot and a beer for him. "Think I'm too overdressed for Mardi Gras?" I looked over his white dress shirt and the black suit pants. Even in my heels I had to reach a little, loosening another button on his shirt. I threw one of the Mardi Gras necklaces over him. "Good to go. How was the trip?"

"All wins, couldn't have gone better. Exhausting," he said, running a hand through his hair. It was getting a little longer, and if I'm honest, I liked it shorter, but he could still pull it off.

"Want to celebrate later?" Jordan's face lit up like a kid at Christmas. He suddenly kissed me hard. "How soon is later?" Laughing, I pushed him in the direction of Lizzi, he should really go and say "Hi" first.

Jordan and I were pretty good on the PDA side of things. We had our moments at school, but on the whole we were pretty good. Austin was really into PDAs - because he wasn't getting any sex, but wanted everyone to think we were doing it all the time. He felt he had to show the world that we couldn't keep our hands off one another.

I made my way to the bathroom where two girls were fixing their hair and make up in front of the mirrors. I didn't recognise them, but I only knew about sixty percent of the people here. "So any guys you like?" the first one said to her friend.

"Well there is one," the other one replied. "He's a Pete and he just walked in." Lizzi had asked Jordan to bring along some non-douchey teammates and a couple of them were sort of cute.

"Oh really," replied her friend now that her attention had been caught. "Which one? Do you have any black eyeliner? Mine keeps smudging."

"He's tall and blonde, think his name is Jayden or something." I tried to bite back a laugh, but I had heard enough. The green-eyed monster was not a good look for me. Flushing the toilet, I washed my hands as quickly as possible, trying not to look at the two girls in front of me.

I was used to girls openly wilting at school whenever Austin passed them. This one girl nearly peed her pants when he asked her to move because she was obstructing his locker. But Jordan, he wasn't something I wanted to share, or to hear other girls talk about how hot he was, or what they wanted to do to him. Jordan is mine. I am an only child and I don't share.

"Hey," Jordan said, catching my non-cast arm, and drawing me closer to him. He and his teammates were stood around between the bar and the dancefloor. I waved hello. "You ok?" he whispered in my ear.

"Ready to go celebrate all those wins?" I replied. I wanted to get Jordan out of here as quickly as possible. Jordan's eyes widened, he downed his drink, muttered something to his teammates and practically dragged me over to the coat check.

It usually takes at least fifteen minutes to get to my house from that part of town to mine. Jordan did it in six. By the time we got in the darkened house, we were all over each other, tugging off clothes, our mouths on any available piece of skin. I dropped to my knees as I tugged Jordan's pants down then realised his legs were too long for this. Heading to the living room, I pushed him down onto the sofa and knelt between his legs. Having kept my V-plates for so long with Austin, I became a pro at giving blowjobs.