Off Sides (5 page)

I give him a smile before I lean in to claim that kiss. "Okay. I'll hold you to that."

Ryan

I must be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet right now.  Danny is willing to give us another chance and I feel like I just won the Stanley Cup.

We are sitting on her couch having just finished an awesome breakfast that Paula cooked while Danny took a quick shower.  She never did go on her run and I'm glad. I didn't want to miss a minute with her today.

Turns out, Paula's not so bad. She can be scary—terrifying actually—but it's in a protective way for Danny and I'm all for that. Turns out, she had been standing in the hallway the entire time we talked, so she overheard everything. She made a big entrance as we were kissing to let me know that she forgave me too. 

How comforting.

At least I can be fairly sure she didn't poison my pancakes.

Paula has left to go to work and we now have the apartment to ourselves. Danny has a rare day off from all of her obligations and we decide to just stay here today and chill out. We have a few days of lost time to make up for and I want to know everything about her.

Danny is sitting on one end of the couch with her back against the armrest and her legs curled underneath her. She's wearing a pair of old, faded jeans that hug her curves just right and sports a hole in one knee. Her t-shirt also hugs her amazing upper body curves and I can't help periodically glancing at the words “Kiss Me – I’m Irish" stenciled across the front of her breasts. She's barefoot and her toes are painted a deep purple color which I find to be incredible sexy.

I'm at the other end of the couch and my legs are extended with my feet resting on either side of her hips.  "Okay, first things first...what is Danny short for?"

She laughs at me and it's music to my ears. If I could make a full time job out of listening to Danny laugh, I would.

"Daniella. But no one calls me that. Ever," she says with warning.

"Why not? It's a beautiful name."

She shrugs her shoulders at me. "I don't know. It's always been Danny so that's what I'm used to."

"Fair enough. So what's with the purple hair and piercings?"

She grabs a lock of her long hair, pulling it over her shoulder and looks down at it in reflection. "You don't like it?"

"On the contrary, I love it. I mean, I've never gone out with a girl with colored hair or a nose ring, but I have to admit...it's hot as hell on you. It's what makes you unique. And I'm finding a new fondness for unique things."

She giggles at me. "It's a good thing. Because I wouldn't change it for you."

"And I wouldn't ask you to."

She flashes me a smile that is so genuinely happy, that my breath catches. Her teeth are straight and gleaming white. Her dimples are perfectly etched and her lips could have an entire book of poetry written to them.

Holy shit! I was becoming a fucking dork thinking like that. Still, I had to admit that her beauty had me a little captivated. Okay, a lot captivated.

"How did you get into hockey?" she asks, breaking into my thoughts before they can veer into all the things I would love to have her do with those poetic lips.

"Gosh...let's see. I've been playing since I was about six years old. My uncle played in the NHL back in the 80's and he’s the one that originally got me into it. I played Junior Hockey before being recruited to Northeastern."

"Do you want to play professionally?"

I lean forward and grab both of her ankles, straightening her legs out. Her feet rest just short of my crotch, which is a good thing. I pick one dainty foot up and start massaging it, working my thumb into the arch.  She gives a little groan and closes her eyes, and holy hell that is sexy. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"Yeah, that’s my dream. It will go against everything my parents expect of me, but that's what I want."

"Do you always do what your parents expect?"

"Not always but I have a lot of the time."

I don't elaborate but she's not going to let it go. And honestly, I don't want her to let it go. I want her to want to know about me. She pushes on. "And why do you do what they expect a lot of the time rather than what you want to do?"

"My dad is Alex Burnham."

I'm watching her face as I say that and I see the recognition immediately dawn. "You mean Congressman Alex Burnham?"

I nod my head at her. "The one and only. He's so far to the right I keep expecting for him to disappear over the horizon." I know there is bitterness in my voice and she picks up on it immediately. My dad is hot in the Republican party right  now and he has his eye on the White House. It’s the main reason my parents what to control every aspect of my life. They want the perfect looking family that will survive a media blitz during election time.

"That's a lot of pressure on you, huh?"

"You have no idea. It's always been about what is best for our family's public image. It's about me dressing the right way, having the right education, marrying the right debutante." I pause my ministrations and lay the one foot down, picking up the other. "My dad expects me to go to law school after I graduate."

She's silent for a minute and then she asks, "Do you have any chance of getting into the NHL?"

I realize she has to ask me this because she has no clue if I'm any good or not. I don't like tooting my horn, but I want her honest opinion. "Yeah, I am. I missed entry into the draft last year because I was out most of the season with an injury to my shoulder, but that's fully healed now. I'll be an unrestricted free agent when I graduate. There are a few teams that have shown interest."

She's impressed, I can tell. I feel the need to clarify. "I might not see any ice time and may even have to play in the minor leagues, but right now I am playing some of the best hockey of my life so the recruiters are calling."

"Well, then to me it's a no brainer. If you have even the smallest chance of pursuing your dream of a hockey career, you have to take it now. Law school will always be there but hockey won't necessarily."

She makes it sound oh so simple but she's never had to deal with the fallout that occurs when I go against even a simple wish of my parents.  Still, it's a pretty rebellious move dating someone like Danny so maybe I need to continue this trend.

"I'll take that under advisement, Miss Cross."

She smiles at me and we both lapse into a short period of comfortable silence. After massaging her foot for another minute, I place it down. She looks at me with tenderness in her eyes and I flip positions to crawl my way across the couch to her. The look in her eyes turns dark as she watches me approach.

"Mind if we take a break from talking?" I ask.

She gives her head a small shake in the negative which makes me grin at her. She wants my touch as much as I want to give it.

As I move over top of her, she leans back and scoots a little down so she's lying on the couch. I stretch out over the top of her, holding my weight off of her with my arms. We just look at each other and the minute she glances down at my lips, it's all over.

I crush my lips to hers and she lets out a startled moan but she opens her mouth to draw me in. Jesus...she tastes like heaven and I can't stop the groan that is rumbling up from me. A jolt of pure lust shoots through my body and I instantly harden. And she knows it as my hips are lying in between hers. I keep my lower half perfectly still as I don't want to turn into a fifteen year old boy that dry humps his pillows.

I slow the kiss down and explore her mouth more leisurely. This is good because while my lust is in no way cooled down, I am getting back a measure of control. Danny's hands grip my biceps and she flexes her fingertips inward as we kiss. I can't wait for the day when those fingertips will dig into my ass as I'm making love to her, but that day is not going to be today. I do want to take this slow for her. I have no idea what her level of experience is, and frankly, I don't care. I want for both of us to come together when the timing is perfect, and with our relationship so new, today is not that day.

I pull my mouth away and she whimpers, putting her hands around my head and trying to drag me back down.

"Danny, you're not making this easy," I grumble.

She gives me that husky laugh. "Who says I want to."

Oh, God...I'm a goner if I don't put some distance between us.  I have never gotten so worked up over a girl so quickly. I press a quick kiss to her lips and stand up from the coach. She has disappointment written all over her face.

"Danny...I want nothing more than to have sex with you right now..."

"But..." she prompts.

"...but, I want this to be special. I want you to know that I'm willing to wait until it's right. I want it to be perfect for you."

She stands up from the couch and has such a hauntingly beautiful smile on her face. Her dimples slightly wink at me. She steps into my body, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her cheek against my chest. My arms go around her and I squeeze. After placing a kiss to the top of her head, I rest my chin there.

Glancing around her living room, I see several pictures on the end table. One is of a man in a police uniform who I assume to be her dad. I pull out of her embrace and walk up to the assembly of photos.

Danny comes to stand beside me. Bending over, she picks up the one I was looking at. "This is my dad, Clayton Cross. This was taken a few years before he got fired."

I look at the picture. I can see she inherited his dimples as he flashes a toothy grin at the camera.

She puts that picture down and picks up another. This is of a gorgeous woman in her forties and there is no doubt she's Danny's mother. They look like sisters.

I take the picture from her to look at it more closely. The resemblance is uncanny. "There's no mistaken where you get your looks from."

She gives a light laugh. She takes the picture back, gently rubbing her fingertip over it. "That's what everyone says. Her name was Rosalyn."

I jolt in stunned disbelief. "Was?"

I just assumed Danny's mother was alive. Why, I don't know. Maybe because she had told me her dad was dead, but never mentioned her mother. I just assumed wrong.

"She died almost two years ago. Glioblastoma multiforme. It's a very aggressive and usually fatal type of brain cancer."

I don't know what to say. Her words are filled with sadness but she is not painfully grieving. If anything, she is speaking with such a fondness for her mother that I ache for her to speak of me that way.

She puts her mom's picture down and picks up another that I had not noticed. It's of Danny. She's wearing a long black gown that is fitted to her body. It has short sleeves and a very demure neckline that gives no hint of the cleavage below. Danny's hair is a bit shorter, just at her shoulders, and it is streaked with red and black color. She has the nose ring and eyebrow piercing and in all other ways looks the same. It couldn't have been taken that long ago.

I take all of that in but it is not what is most interesting about the picture. What catches my eye and holds it is the fact that Danny is holding a violin in one hand and its bow in the other.

She plays the violin and I'm astounded.

I look over at her and she's enjoying the look of shock on my face. "That was taken my first year at Julliard."

My mouth falls open in astonishment and I look back at the picture. "You were just as beautiful then, but I think I'm partial to the purple hair," I murmur.

Her laugh washes over me and she takes the picture back and sets it on the table. Taking my hand, she pulls me into the kitchen. "Let me make lunch for us and you can ask me any questions you want. I can see them floating all over your face."

I sit down at the counter and watch as she pulls out stuff from the fridge to make sandwiches. Her back is turned to me and I just stare at her for a second. She so beautiful, and complex, and damaged...and yet she's about the most joyful and giving person I know. It is incomprehensible to me and I realize I have something to learn from this girl. Being in Danny’s presence makes me realize my life has been pretty lackluster.

"So, tell me more about your mother."

She puts all of the sandwich stuff on the counter and a smile lights up her face. "Oh...let me tell you...Rosalyn Cross was a handful. She was one of the funniest people I’ve known. And she was beautiful, and kind, and smart."

I watch as Danny puts our sandwiches together while talking. She never misses a beat which tells me that it is both natural and comfortable for her to talk about her mom.

"When my dad spiraled down, she stood by him as long as she could. She loved him passionately. But she wasn't going to let him impact negatively on my life so she made him leave.” She pauses and looks me in the eye. “It was the bravest thing I'd ever seen in my life."

I cannot even imagine the sacrifice that Danny’s mother had to make to ensure her daughter was safe. I can’t imagine what it was like for Danny to love a father that was totally self-destructive. And yet, here she is with deep and abiding love for both of them.

Sliding my sandwich across to me, she turns to pull a beer out of the fridge and holds it up. I nod and she twists the cap off and she hands it to me. "I can't get over how much you two look alike."

"Yup. She always called me her ‘mini-me’." She has a dreamy look on her face as she is soaking in that happy memory.

Danny takes a bite of her sandwich, chews and swallows "The thing I will always be the most grateful for was the way she encouraged me to be me. My mother was athletic and I know really wanted me to play sports. But I loved music and because I loved it, she encouraged me to be passionate about it. When I wanted to pierce my eyebrow when I was sixteen, she let me do it. Because she knew I craved individuality. I would not be what I am today if it wasn't for her."

"Then I owe your mom a debt of gratitude because there isn't any part of you that I'm not insanely attracted to."

Danny gives me a shy smile and continues eating.

"So, tell me about Julliard. And particularly why you are not there anymore."