Sledge: The Hockey Player's Secret Baby (14 page)

“Um, sure.” He walked to the bar and mixed a drink. “So, your dad is giving you a hard time? He always was a hard-ass.”

“You have no idea.”

“Did he do something to you? Did he hit you?”

“No, nothing like that. He’s never raised a hand to me; he’s just a control freak.”

Control freak was the nicest way I could think to phrase it. It didn’t do the situation justice, but how could I explain it without revealing the truth about the baby?

“He was always hard on us when he was my coach. When we screwed something up, he’d scream at us like it was end of the world. I’ll never forget how red he’d turn or the way veins would bulge from his forehead. I always assumed that was just his style of coaching. You meet a lot of coaches like that. The slightest fuck up and they lose their shit. It never occurred to me he was like that at home too.”

He looked at me strangely. There was a strange tension to his presence.

“Yeah,” I said pathetically. “He could be pretty tough.”

I swallowed hard and took my drink from him. I was eager to gulp it down. Alcohol would have to fill the hole my pills had left. My phone started to buzz from another incoming call.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

“Why?”

“I’m going to set him straight. I’m going to talk to him man-to-man. I’ll tell him this is all one big misunderstanding. He’ll see.”

I laughed. “Are you crazy? He hates me. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand if-”

“He won’t. He’s not a reasonable man. He does whatever he wants. Damn the consequences.”

“How long have things been strained between the two of you?”

“Strained…” I said with a laugh. “Strained is a nice way to put it. If he knew I was here now, he’d have me locked up in a mental institution or worse.”

“It’s that bad?”

He handed me another drink. I drank it so quickly that Sledge raised an eyebrow. I handed the empty glass back, wanting him to make me a third. He set it down instead.

“What happened with Svetlana?” I asked, changing the subject. “Why did she try to pin this on you?”

“After you told me about what happened, I went to the hospital to confront her. I broke up with her and she went psycho. She said she’d warned me to ‘play nice.’ I stormed out. When I got home, the cops were waiting for me. They arrested me on attempted murder.”

He shook his head, then poured a drink. Instead of handing it to me, he drank it.

“It was a close call.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have gone to the police. It’s not your job to take care of me. I can handle myself. I don’t want you to punish yourself just to save me.”

If he knew the things I’d done to protect him, he’d kill me. He put down his drink and walked over to me.

“Let me take care of you for once.” The proximity of his body made me feel warm all over. He brushed the hair out of my eyes. His hand rested on my arm. “Just tell me the truth, Bobbi. I know Astrid was faking last night. Your friend isn’t much of an actor.”

“No kidding,” I muttered.

“So? What’s really going on?”

As he stared into my eyes, I realized that this was an important moment. I could tell him everything; unload the burden off my chest. Sledge would understand, wouldn’t he?

“If you’re worried about your dad, just sit down and talk to him. I’m sure he’ll see reason.”

It was then I knew that he didn’t understand the situation. He still thought of my dad as the coach. All the players looked up to him. He was the father they always wanted. The truth was that they had no idea who he really was.

“Are you pregnant? You can tell me. I’ll help you. I just don’t want you to lie to me,” he said.

I shook my head. “No. I am not pregnant. It really was a big misunderstanding. Chick is a good guy but he’s not the brightest. Astrid’s not pregnant and neither am I. Can we just leave it at that?”

He frowned and took a step back. I could tell he didn’t believe me. At the very least he knew there was more to the story. I reached out to touch him. My arm came to rest on his bicep. A memory flashed through my mind. We were lying in the field behind the school. I ran my fingertips over his warm skin as the summer sun beat down on us. Naively, we talked about the future. We would get married. Sledge would play for the NHL; I would go to school and get my degree. We’d live in a nice house in the city. We made plans as if life was simple. It felt like ages ago, though it was little more than a year. I was already pregnant then, but I didn’t know it yet. I dropped my hand.

“I know you think I’m lying to you,” I said. “If I haven’t told you everything it’s because I have a very good reason. If you want me to trust you, then you have to trust me.”

“Okay,” he said with a small nod of his head. “I just want to help. If you’re in trouble…”

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I lied. “Could you make me another drink?”

He picked up my empty glass and returned to the bar. “When did you start drinking?”

“I don’t know. Not long ago. It helps me unwind.”

“Is your life that stressful?”

“You’d be surprised,” I muttered. I wandered over to a pile of hockey equipment stacked against the wall. “Hey, do you remember when we were kids and we used to play broomball inside the house?”

Sledge smiled. “You always cheated.”

“I never cheated! You’re just a sore loser,” I laughed.

“You cheated all the time. You’re too aggressive. You’d body-check me, then steal a goal.”

“
I’m too aggressive
? How many times have you been suspended for fighting? Besides, the whole point of broomball is to get rough. No one cares about the score. You’re too competitive.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied with a sly grin. He handed me a drink then ran off into the kitchen. He returned holding two brooms. “Rematch.”

We pushed the couch out of the way, clearing a space in the living room. Sledge’s condo was huge. We had a sizable makeshift rink. Sledge set down two empty beer bottles at each end of our ‘rink.’ We used these to mark the goals. He tossed a ball into the middle. We met nose-to-nose. Our brooms each rested on one side of the ball.

“Ready?” he said. I nodded. “On the count of three. One… two…”

I hit the ball without waiting for three. I slipped around him and headed for his goal. Before he could grab me, I swung and sent the ball straight into the goal.

“Score! That’s one to zero!” I said triumphantly.

“Weren’t you the one just lecturing me about how the score doesn’t matter in this game?”

“It matters when I’m winning.”

Sledge laughed. “I let you score.” I scoffed. “It’s true. I wanted you to have at least one point before I crush you.”

Mockingly, I laughed. “Show me what you got.”

We placed the ball in the middle of our rink. I tried to give Sledge my most intimidating hockey players stare down. I ended up cracking up laughing. He took advantage of the moment and stole the ball. I ran after him just barely managing to cut him off before he scored. I slammed into his shoulder. It was like hitting a brick wall. When we were kids, I could knock him off his feet with a well-timed bodycheck. Now, it was like he was carved out of wood.

Our brooms fought against one another as I tried to steal the ball. The alcohol had gone to my head a bit; my reactions were slow. I gave up trying to steal the ball and decided to get rough instead. I slammed into his chest and kicked his leg.

“Ow!” he laughed.

I managed to get the ball away from him. Sledge tossed his broom aside and grabbed me around the waist. He lifted me off the floor into the air. I laughed and playfully kicked.

“You sore loser!”

He responded by tossing me onto the couch. I pulled him down with me. We wrestled on Sledge’s massive couch. I managed to get on top of him and pin his arms above his head. I looked down at him and smiled.

“Like I said, sore loser.”

He flipped me over onto my back and started to tickle me. I screamed with laughter, begging him to stop.

Suddenly, his hands went still and his mouth was on mine. I froze. Sledge pulled away. He stared down at me with a look that suggested even he was surprised by what he’d done. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have…”

I pulled him to me and kissed him hard. I bit his lower lip and pressed my body against his. I was on autopilot. My brain had checked out. All I could think about was the maddening pulse of desire between my legs. I wanted him to fuck me so hard that I forgot about all my problems.

I started to grind against him. I felt him grow hard. It felt like ages since I’d been beneath him, but my body remembered.

I shivered as his hand passed over my stomach and slid up my shirt. He cupped my breast and ran his rough fingers over my nipple. He started to pull my shirt off. I was so eager to fuck him that I ripped it off before he had the chance to undress me.

Sledge’s hand slid behind me and unhooked my bra. I pulled it free and tossed it aside. Then he was back on top of me, kissing my neck. His hand slid into my jeans. I gasped. He fingered my pussy, rubbing in quick circles.

I didn’t think I could get much wetter, but Sledge proved me wrong. He sat up and pulled off his shirt, then he set his sights on me. He unbuttoned my jeans and slowly pulled them off. I lifted my legs as they slid off.

Sledge kissed the insides of my thighs, then positioned himself between my legs. He reached between us, unzipped his pants then kicked them off. I could feel his cock, hard and thick, as it sought purchase between my legs.

“Sledge…” I moaned nonsensically.

The tip of his cock entered me. I braced myself, digging my nails into his thick shoulders. I cried out as he drove his cock deeper. He groaned in my ear. The sound was familiar and alien at the same time. His voice sounded deeper and thicker.

He pulled out slowly, then drove his cock inside me hard. He started a punishing rhythm, moving in quick bursts of energy. Our bodies flowed together and apart, in perfect sync.

When he sped up, I matched his rhythm. His strokes came fluidly.

I wrapped my legs around his waist. Sledge drove his cock deeper. Momentum built, stroke by stroke. It was like a pressure valve that had been building up steam for too long was finally released. I couldn’t contain my desire any better than Sledge could.

I clawed at his back and moaned like a cat. Sledge pumped into me faster. His hot breath on my skin sent a chill through me. The heat inside me took on a chaotic nature. It spread through my breasts and down to my toes.

“I’m cumming…” I cried out.

Sledge grunted in my ear. When we dated I didn’t talk this way. In truth, my words caught me by surprise. I’m not sure where they came from. I felt as if I’d lost control.

With a final thrust, Sledge drove his cock deep inside me and came. We held onto each other like we’d float away from the Earth without each other’s strength.

Sledge’s mouth found mine. We kissed between catching our breath. It wasn’t easy; we were both breathing hard. Sledge was still inside me. When he moved, tiny tremors crawled up my spine. I shivered so hard my shoulders hunched and my toes curled. Sledge smiled down at me with an amused grin.

“What’s so funny?” I teased.

“Nothing. I just missed this. I missed us.”

He leaned down and kissed me again. His lips found their way down my chest. We were gearing up for round two when someone started to pound on the door. I jumped and let out a little scream. Sledge looked up.

“Ignore it,” he said, then went back to leaving a flurry of kisses on my stomach.

The pounding returned. Whoever it was they weren’t going away.

“Are you expecting someone?” I asked.

“No.”

The pounding became louder. Sledge cursed under his breath and jumped up. He pulled on his jeans, but didn’t button them. I hastily dressed as Sledge headed for the door.

“What do you want?” he said as he pulled open the door. Then his voice changed, breaking and becoming high like when he was younger. “Coach Ellis. What are you doing here?”

I sunk down into the couch. I hoped my dad hadn’t seen me.

“Where’s Bobbi?” he demanded.

“She’s not here,” Sledge said calmly. “Why? Is she in trouble?”

My father hesitated. I could imagine his face; his eyes narrow, his mouth a straight line set between flushed cheeks. I had no doubt he was furious. Most people withered before his anger.

“Where is she?” my father demanded.

“I haven’t talked to her. It was then I noticed my bra was hanging off the back of the couch. At the same moment, my father said: “What the hell is that?”

I knew he’d spotted my bra. I closed my eyes and held my breath. This was it. He would find me, drag me out of Sledge’s condo and force me to go back home. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

“What about it?” Sledge replied coolly.

“Is that Bobbi’s? Is she here?”