The Year We Hid Away (31 page)

“I’ll think about it,” Bridger said.

“Think quick. Practice is at four o’clock tomorrow.”

“I will.” He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Right now I have to chase Lucy into bed. Are those teeth brushed, buddy?”

Hartley and I finished up in the kitchen while Bridger tucked Lucy in. “Do you think he’ll do it?” He asked me.

“If he doesn’t, I’ll be devastated,” I admitted. “If one of your goalies gets injured, you have my number, right?”

Hartley grinned. “I’ll keep you in mind.” His face became serious then. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to mention to you.”

“What’s that?” I put the last forks into the drawer and closed it.

“I got my first pair of new hockey skates when I was ten. Up until then I only had yard sale equipment. One pair was orange, and the other kids used to mock me.”

That seemed unlikely. “Until you skated circles around them.”

“Well, sure,” he smiled. “But they never fit right, you know? Not until Steel Wings came along and gave me the real thing.”

“Oh.”

Oh
. That shut me up, and fast. In one of the newspaper articles, I’d read that my father’s charity had given out two million dollars’ worth of equipment. Until now, I’d never met anyone who’d received any of it.

Hartley’s big brown eyes held mine. “They cost eighty bucks, Scarlet. They were the nicest things I’d ever owned. And I kept them on my desk so I could look at them between games.”

“That’s…” I didn’t know what to do with that. “Aren’t you glad you never met the founder, though?”

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Of course I am. I’m not trying to excuse what he did. But the help he gave me was straightforward. And it was real.”

“Okay,” I said softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

Hartley pulled me into a quick hug. “No problem. I’ve got to run and try to do some homework before next week drags me under.”

“Thanks for the cupcakes,” I said.

He winked, reaching for his jacket. “There’s a dozen more in it for you and Lucy if you can get his ass to practice tomorrow.”

“I’ll do my best.”

—
Bridger

After I brushed my teeth, I turned the lights out in the living room. Then I locked the front door. As the bolt slid into place, I felt a powerful contentment. The people I loved best were both on the same side of this door, home with me right now.

While Hartley’s offer thrilled me, I already had what I needed. It was right here in this modest apartment.

I tiptoed into my bedroom and clicked the doorknob lock into place. Lucy never wandered into my room in the night, but it was more fun getting naked with Scarlet if I knew that she couldn’t accidentally get an eyeful.

My girlfriend laid in the middle of the bed, hogging both pillows, her hands behind her head. There was a gleam in her eye, and I felt it in all the right places. With one hand, I stripped the t-shirt over my head. And I swear that gleam burned brighter. “Get over here,” she said.

The demand wasn’t Scarlet’s style, but I loved it. And so did the most ambitious part of my body. I stripped off my jeans, followed by my rapidly tightening underwear. Then I climbed onto the end of the bed, watching her track me with that heated gaze.

Crawling up her body, I trapped her under the sheet. “Did you want something from me?”

“I did. I
do
,” she corrected.

I dropped down, supporting myself on my forearms. My pelvis molded into hers, and the only barrier between us was the sheet. Holy shit, she was naked under there. “What is it that you wanted?” I asked. “I like you bossy, by the way.”

“Good thing,” she said, arching up to me. “Because I’m going to boss you around tonight.”

I swear, the
whoosh
of a flame that her words lit inside me was practically audible. I was on fire already, and she hadn’t even touched me yet. “Boss me,” I challenged. “Let’s hear you.”

Scarlet put her hands on my bare ass and said, “go to practice tomorrow.”

I laughed. “That’s not where I thought this was going.”

“Oh, there are
lots
of places this could take us,” she whispered, stroking me with soft hands. “Just promise me you’ll go.”

With one hand, I peeled back the sheet between us as far as I could without climbing off her. “What do I get if I go?”

Scarlet’s brow quirked. “You get to skate in the semis, dumbass.”

“
Jesus
, I love you,” I said, dipping my head to kiss the creamy breast that I’d exposed. “Sexy and tough in one pretty package.”

Her face softened then. And as I continued to tease her nipple with my lips, she melted beneath me. I wiggled my way under the sheet, kissing every bit of skin I uncovered along the way.

Maybe she’d already said her piece. Or maybe I’m just that good a lover. But I didn’t hear any more attempts at negotiation. There were only soft sighs, and the feel of her velvet skin against mine. She was loving every minute of it. In no time at all I was reaching into the nightstand for necessary equipment. And then lowering my body onto hers, teasing her with myself, and then moving away again.

“Hey!” she said, and I laughed.

“Got a plane to catch, Scarlet?”

“You’re not a nice person.”

“Oh, but I am.” I dropped my lips to her belly and began kissing her there. Meanwhile, my hand slid to a place that made her gasp. I looked up at her. “Scarlet,” I said, removing my hand. “How good a hockey player are you, anyway?”

“Umm,” she gasped. “Who cares, Bridge…”

I chuckled into her belly button. “How good, Scarlet?”

“All state MVP,” she mumbled.

I lifted my head. “Could you take me one-on-one?”

Her eyes popped open. “I’m trying to. Right now.”

I hitched myself up on her body, grinning. “I’m serious. Who would win?”

She dropped her head onto the pillow in frustration. “You could out shoot me,” she told the ceiling. “But I might be more maneuverable. And you couldn’t deke me very easily. Too many hours spent watching for defensive gaps.”

I looked down at her. “Do you have any
idea
how sexy that is? I want to play you. I think I can win, as long as you’re wearing clothes. Will you play me sometime?” she didn’t say anything, so I slid my hand back where it was before. “Please?” I begged.

“Sure,” she smiled. “I’d love to.”

“Yesss…” I said, finally pressing forward, sliding home. Scarlet’s eyelids fluttered closed, and I caught her moan in my mouth.

Life was very, very good.

—
Scarlet

The student section was crammed full of fans. It was standing room only. But Lucy and I made our way to the adjacent section, where the VIP seats were. Every guy on the team received two tickets to give out. We found ours next to Corey and Theresa, and right in front of the women’s hockey team.

“Lucy!” Theresa said. “I hear you’re coming for a sleepover at my house if the team goes to Philadelphia.”

“I hope they do,” Lucy said. “That would be fun.”

After we got settled, Coach Samantha Smith — the very woman I’d had to quit to in September — touched Corey and I on the shoulders. “How have you been, ladies?”

“Great!” Corey enthused. “I promised Hartley that if they made it to the Frozen Four, I’d paint his number on my face.”

Coach laughed. “The way the team looks, you might have to go through with it.”

“It would be worth a little humiliation to see them do that well,” Corey said.

Coach turned to me. “And how are you doing…” she stopped. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Scarlet,” I supplied.

“
Scarlet
,” she said with an apologetic look. But I wasn’t offended. She’d recruited me for an entire year as Shannon.

“She’s famous, Coach,” the girl sitting beside her said.

Crap
. My smile melted away as I examined the girl, who wore a
Harkness Women’s Hockey
jacket. I didn’t think I knew her.

Coach’s eyebrows lifted, as if she wasn’t sure what to say either.

“…She’s famous for catching Bridger McCaulley,” the girl said with grin. “Nobody’s ever done that before.”

“That’s my brother you’re talking about,” Lulu chirped. “He isn’t very easy to catch, because he’s fast.”

The player’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s… exactly what I meant,” she said, while the other girls around her laughed.

Coach winked at me, and the subject was dropped.

“Good evening!” boomed the announcer over the sound system. “And welcome to the Eastern College Hockey Conference semifinal game between Harkness College and Quinnipiac!”

The crowd gave a loud cheer, and U2’s familiar guitar intro to
Where The Streets Have No Name
began to swell under the announcer’s words. “Allow me to introduce your team. From Etna, Connecticut, your captain Adam Hartley!”

Now, you’d think that our bench would cheer the loudest, but it sounded to me as if every female at Harkness College gave a fan girl scream. One by one, the players skated to their blue line as they were introduced. “From Harkness, Connecticut, left wing Bridger McCaulley!” Lucy popped up to shriek along with a couple thousand other fans, and even from the tenth row I could see that Bridger’s smile was enormous.

“All rise,” boomed the announcer over the sound system. “…For the National Anthem, sung for you tonight by Harkness’s own Something Special.”

“This is it!” Lucy said, standing up, putting a hand over her heart.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd grew quiet. On the upper deck, the girls’ singing group leaned in to their microphones and sang the national anthem. I must be turning into a giant sap, because I actually teared up. There was no place in the world I’d rather be tonight than here.

From the face-off on, I was glued to the action. Both teams wanted this game
bad
. It was fast, intense, and glorious. The only bad moment was when Bridger was cross-checked into the boards. He went down hard, and Lucy panicked a little.

“He’s
fine
,” I insisted, pulling her into my lap. “Just give him a second.”

Coach Smith tapped Lucy on the shoulder, offering her a Skittle. And by the time the little girl turned back toward the ice, Bridger was skating again.

I looked over my shoulder. “Thank you,” I mouthed.

Then Coach leaned in. “Will you have coffee with me next week? I’d like to stay in touch.”

I wasn’t expecting that. The idea that Coach wanted to chat about next season sent butterflies into my stomach. I took a deep breath of the icy rink air and let myself consider it. The sounds echoing around me — of steel scraping ice, and the puck smacking the boards — were as familiar to me as breathing.

“You know, I’d like that,” I told her.

“Awesome,” she said.

I turned back then, to catch Bridger hopping over the wall for his shift. Lucy wiggled in my lap, and the puck skidded across my line of vision. I checked the clock. There were only two minutes left in the period.

It was the goalie’s job to see the whole ice at once. I’d spent the past few months feeling that I’d failed at the job. But tonight I understood that if you kept your heart in the game, there would always be one more period to play. And excellent people to play it with.

Game on.

Chapter Twenty Two:
Thank You

Thank you!

Thanks for reading
The Year We Hid Away
. I hope you enjoyed it!

Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at
my contact page
, follow me on twitter at
@sarinabowen
, or like my Facebook page at
http://facebook.com/authorsarinabowen

Reviews help other readers find books. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.

Ready for More?

You’ve just read the second full-length book in the
Ivy Years
series.

By fall 2014, there will be
three novels and a novella

(
Hint
: Andy & Katie’s date is going to make a terrific short story! The title:
Blond Date
)

Have you read book #1?
The Year We Fell Down
is Hartley and Corey’s story:

The sport she loves is out of reach. The boy she loves has someone else. What now?

She expected to start Harkness College as a varsity ice hockey player. But a serious accident means that Corey Callahan will start school in a wheelchair instead.