Chapter 58 – Pretending You Are Mine Novel

“That’s how I like you. Wild. Out of control.”

“You’re going to break me.”

She twists into me and asks, “Are you telling me I have to take it easy on my geriatric boyfriend?”

My brow rises as I turn toward her, causing her to laugh. “I’m not f**king geriatric.”

“Could have fooled me with all the cracking your bones do.”

“That’s just part of being an athlete.”

“A geriatric athlete.”

“Oliana!”

She laughs and straddles me. “Are your feelings getting hurt?” She traces her hands over my pecs.

“Yes.”

“Aw, my poor baby.” She k**ses my l*ps and then hops off, leaving me cold and wanting more.

“Come back here.”

She sl*ps my shirt over her body and b**tons the middle b**ton. “I need some breakfast. You’ve f**ked me hungry.”

“And you’re calling me the geriatric one.” I sl*p my hands behind my head and say, “I could go all day, baby.”

“Says the man who was breathing heavily last night and had to take a break between rounds.”

I sit up on my elbows. “I’m the one doing the f**king pumping. Excuse me if I don’t want to cramp up.”

She laughs some more and then goes to her mini fridge, where she pulls out two yogurts.

She tosses one at me and then pulls out spoons. I scoot back to the headboard and sit up while she sits right on top of me, just the way I like it.

I pull off the lid of my yogurt and do the same for her. She hands me a spoon, and together, we eat breakfast.

“Did you turn in your article?” I ask.

“I did yesterday. I haven’t heard anything yet.”

“It was a good article, babe,” I say. “I don’t see how he won’t like it.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help on it. Before I turned it in, I made a few changes, but I feel like it’ll give me the credit I need, and then after that, I just have to breeze through the rest of the internship until the end of the year.”

“Your grade doesn’t depend on the rest of the year?” I ask.

“No, the extension of the internship is just experience. That’s why the extension was so good because it’s paid and great for the résumé.”

“What do you plan on doing after you graduate?” I ask.

“Hopefully find a job that suits what I’m working toward . . . not sports.”

I chuckle. “But now your boyfriend is a professional hockey player, giving you the inside look. You could be very valuable to someone looking for a sportswriter.”

“Oh yeah, very valuable. I couldn’t even tell you a single rule about hockey, let alone write about it.”

“So what happens if you get a job that’s not in Vancouver?” I ask, wanting to gauge where she’s at.

“Are you worried I might not be at your beck and call for your post-game adrenaline?”

“No.” I bring my hand to her th**h. “I just want to know what your plans are.”

Playfully, she asks, “Are you growing attached to me, Silas?”

“I am,” I say, completely serious, which changes her exp**ssion. I set down my yogurt and grip her waist. “I really like you, Ollie.”

“I really like you too, Silas.”

“I want you to have the world in front of you, all of the opportunities, but I also want to know that I have a chance of being in that future.”

She sets her yogurt down as well and rests her hands on my chest. “You’re in my future, Silas. I don’t know what that future will be, but you’re in it. I honestly can say this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Me too, Ollie.” I slide a strand of hair behind her ear. “How do you feel about everything so far, with the season and the time apart?”

“Good,” she answers. “I had coffee with Winnie, and it felt nice to talk to someone experiencing the same thing as me.”

“You don’t fear I won’t be there for you?”

“I don’t have that fear at all.”

“Because if you do, you can tell me.”

“Silas,” she says, placing her hand over my heart. “I promise I can handle this. So far, I’ve seen you almost every night besides the nights you were on the road. And those nights, you called me. I have no worries about you not being there for me. And I have no need to go looking for comfort elsewhere if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I don’t want to be afraid of it,” I say as I droop my head. “But I feel this heavy weight in my chest when I think about you and how I feel.” I look her in the eyes. “It’s really f**king strong, Ollie. You brought me back to life. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she says, then leans in to k**s me. “I’m yours, Silas. Only yours.”

* * *

“You look happy,” Holmes says, walking up next to me as we head down the hallway. Another game day, another chance to add a win to the tally.

“I am happy,” I say. “Had a great morning with Ollie.”

“You feeling her?” Holmes asks.

“Yeah, man. A lot. She makes me really f**king happy.” Leaning in close, I say, “I think she’s the f**king one.”

“Really?” Holmes asks, surprised.

“I know it’s pretty early, but I swear to God, I’ve never felt this way. Even with Sarah. This is a new level of connection—of . . . possession—I have inside me. I haven’t told her, but hell, dude, I love her. The feeling is so strong in my veins that I need to be around her all the goddamn time.”

“And you trust her?” he asks, making me think he might have had a talk with Pacey.

“I do,” I answer. “I trust her with everything in me.” When I told her about Sarah, she floored me with her compassion and empathy. She showed maturity beyond her years. But her anger on my behalf proved that she values trustworthiness and honesty as much as I do. “She’s far more mature than I expected and has adapted to being the girlfriend of a hockey player much easier than I anticipated. So far. I’m happy.”

“I can tell. You’re on top of your game, too.”

“I feel like I’ve shed this weight I’ve been carrying around. The weight of what Sarah put me through. Now that Ollie has come along, it just feels different. Right. Like everything is in place.”

“Morning, boys,” Blakely says, cutting us off in the hallway. Blakely works for the Agitators and has been helping with Penny’s job regarding social media. Blakely is also the girl Holmes has a huge crush on.

“Uh, hey, Blakely,” Holmes says, his body growing rigid next to mine.

I thrive for these moments. And I know I shouldn’t because my friend is clearly uncomfortable. But I love watching him squirm. It makes me realize he’s not the robot he likes to portray himself as, and that light that keeps him motivated is stronger.

“Ooo, Halsey, that suit looks amazing on you. Is it new?”

I catch his cheeks blush as he shakes his head. “No, had it for a bit.”

“I love it. You should wear it more often.”

Why do I feel like he’s going to wear it every day for the rest of his life now?

“Thanks.”

Just to stir the pot a bit, I nudge his shoulder. “You going to compliment her dress?”

Holmes flashes a death look at me right before he says, “Uh, you look beautiful, Blakely.”

Okay, I was just looking for a dress compliment, not a full-on I’m in love with you compliment.

“Oh . . . thank you, Halsey.” She glances down at her plum dress. “Since I have to be on the ice today before the game, I thought I would dress in Agitators colors.”

“Purple looks really good on you.”

I swear to God, I see heart eyes sprouting from Holmes. He’s going to get so much shit when we get to the locker room, and he knows it.

“Thank you.” She clears her throat. “Um, well, I have to go gather some things—”

“Ugh, there you are,” I hear Sarah say as she walks up to us in a pair of skintight black pants and a purple top that dips low in the front. “Oh hey, Silas.” She smiles, and it’s crazy that I used to like that smile—now it just seems maniacal. Like she’s plotting revenge.

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