Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
Before I can even make it out of the driveway, my phone buzzes with a message. Call me later.
I will, I reply quickly before driving away. The distant rumble of thunder catches my attention, and I curse myself for not checking the weather earlier since I was running late. I hope I make it home before the storm hits.
As soon as I step inside my apartment, I dial Syd’s number. “Miss me already? I feel so loved and special,” I tease.
“Of course, you know I love you more than my luggage. You’re such a nut. Hey, I just found out what the boys asked Santa for. They want a mom for Barrett.”
I can almost hear her sharp intake of breath through the phone. I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Not good,” she finally replies.
“I know. Please warn Banning.”
“I will. I’m calling him now. The thunderstorm will hit in about forty-five minutes. Call me if you need anything, Luci.”
“Got it. Thanks, Syd.” I hang up and decide a hot shower is in order before I settle into bed and call Easton.
I hit the button for a video call, and Easton’s face appears on the screen, sitting at his desk in his room. “Hold on, sweetness. Let me finish this last sentence, and then we can talk.” He props his phone against the wall, allowing me to watch him. He’s shirtless, and I can’t help but admire the sculpted muscles that ripple beneath his skin. I long to run my fingers over those defined lines. He writes steadily, but I can see a smile creeping onto his face as he works.
“Do you see something that interests you, Luci?” he asks, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Do you have an extra eye or something?” I laugh, unable to contain my amusement.
“Yep. I have a kid; it comes with the territory of passing down your genes. There, done with this annoying essay.” He finishes packing away his papers before lifting the phone to face him. “You can look all you like. I’ll even let you touch.” He settles back against his pillows, a playful grin on his face. “Are you in bed too?”
“Yes.” A sudden crack of lightning followed by a loud rumble of thunder makes me jump, and I notice the concern etching itself onto his features.
“Sorry, I don’t like thunderstorms. I tend to hide like a big baby in my bed,” I admit, feeling vulnerable.
He contemplates for a moment. “The night your parents died….”
I shrug, trying to brush off the memories. “Somewhat for that reason. How was practice?”
“Tedious. Honestly, Fuckphries is lucky he has a talented team is all I can say. I don’t want to talk about him while I’m looking at you. What does Luci Forrester wear to sleep?”
“Are we back to twenty questions?” I joke, raising an eyebrow.
He shakes his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not when I can’t touch you. But I’m curious about what you wear to sleep.”
I pull the phone away slightly. “Just a tank top and pajama pants. If it gets cold, I throw on a sweatshirt.” I jump again as the next crack of thunder booms.
His brow furrows with concern. “You really are not a fan of storms, are you? Are you ready to sleep?”
“Yes, but… I sometimes can’t,” I admit, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me.
“Then lay down, and I’ll talk to you until you fall asleep.”
I prop the phone on the pillow across from me and listen as he shares stories about how they learned to play hockey as kids, how they would take on different characters during their games. His voice is soft, soothing, and I can feel my eyelids growing heavy as he continues to speak. “Sleep, sweetness. Call me if you wake up scared.”
I mumble a sleepy “yes” as he keeps talking, his words wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
The next morning, I wake up with a smile, my phone resting beside me. Definitely a moment to cherish. He truly tries to take care of me. I send him a quick text, eager to start my day and wondering what kind of date awaits us.
After class, I head home to grab a late lunch and tackle some homework. As I step into the kitchen, I notice a small blue bag sitting on the counter. Curiosity piqued, I pull the note off it. “Something that looked like you. You can wear it tonight. Meet me at the ice rink at 8. This time will be very different.”
I reach inside and pull out a buttery soft cream pullover. It features a mock zip with a pink fair isle design across the shoulders and upper chest, as well as along the cuffs. It looks warm and cozy-exactly my style. I quickly text him back. “I guess your key works. Thank you for my surprise.”
Ten minutes later, he replies, “Needed to reward you for not giving me a fake copy.”
I pick up Cole, and we spend our time making paper snowflakes after I let him try on part of his costume for the Christmas program. “Do you want to decorate the playroom and your room with the snowflakes?” I ask, watching his eyes light up.
“Yes! Is that okay?” He looks up at me with wide eyes.
“I think so. I’ll take the heat if it’s not,” I wink at him playfully.
“Luci, you say funny things. What heat?” He giggles, his laughter infectious.
“It means someone is mad at you. Some people say being mad is being hot,” I explain.
“Oh. Luci, do you like my daddy?” he asks, his curiosity evident.
“Umm, yes. Why do you ask?” I respond, intrigued.
“Just wondering. He’s a good daddy.”
“Yes, he is.” Before Cole can say anything more, Baker comes in to announce that dinner is ready. Cole is starting to look tired, so I tuck him into bed a little earlier than usual.