Page 10 of Off Side
DREW
Igot up early to do the barn chores, then headed to the rink to get the ice flooded before our appointment with the lawyer. I noticed Sam moved her bags into her room at some point. Hopefully, she didn’t read too much into my note. I simply wanted her to know she could talk to me about all her grief and the stress this is all causing.
I had left that sticky note with her name by my laptop to remind myself to look into her hockey history so I could help her on the coaching journey. After finally doing a Google search on her, I’m sure there is much more bothering her. Like the reason she left Minnesota at the top of her game as an NCAA referee without so much as giving the league notice. Every article I read dated prior to last October had nothing except good things to say about her.
From my internet research, I did find out about her hockey career. She was damn good. A local article mentioned how Tom built the rink in the back for her when she was a kid, allowing her to play anytime she wanted and called it Sam’s Barn. I assume it has to be the building behind the house that is used as a storage place for extra horse tack. I would have to check it out later. She played on boys’ teams because there weren’t any girls’ teams. She was the top scorer at almost every level, out preforming the boys by a mile. Sam went on to play for the women’s varsity team in Minnesota. She earned her degree in physiotherapy, and she also earned the highest level of officiating in the NCAA by the time she was twenty-four. Fucking impressive is what it was. A gifted athlete, brains, and the skill to be a top ranked official all wrapped up in a five-foot curvy lush body with a penchant to wear bunny slippers. Why didn’t she have a boyfriend, or at least a steady stream of men following her around with all of that going for her?
Heading into the barn to see the horses, I start my chores, making sure they are taken care of for the day. I opened the door for them to go out to the pasture, and they amble on their way. Snowball stopped for some ear rubs and pressed her large body into me like she understands I needed a hug. I wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a squeeze. She was the gentlest and most intuitive horse I’d ever met. She stood there silently and let me hug and scratch her. She nuzzled into my shoulder and butted me with her head, and I look up. Resting my head on hers, I am suddenly overcome with the urge to confess, “Snowball, this woman has me in all kinds of knots, and I don’t want to make any mistakes. She’s beautiful and smart and a bit crazy, and she could be a good one. I feel like I might be ready to try something, but I have no idea how to do this. How do I do this?”
Of course, Snowball couldn’t talk back to give me any advice, but she puffed onto my neck and nudged me with her nose. Her knowing eyes blinked at me. With a final puff and a flick of her tail, she sauntered out to join her crew and left me standing there wondering what I had to do to get through this latest trial in my life. This meeting with the lawyer is a big one and will reveal the details of Tom’s final plans.
I went into the house to grab a quick breakfast and a shower before heading to the rink. Sam was already at the table with a coffee and her laptop open. She looked up at me over the top of her reading glasses, and damned if I didn’t suddenly have a sexy librarian fantasy going now as my cock gave me a little nudge.
“Thank you for bringing my bags in last night. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. It was no big deal. I like to help.”
“Thank you for the, ah, note, as well. I appreciate the offer to talk. That was very kind and I may take you up on that.”
I blinked in surprise. I was not expecting her to be so quick to agree, or to even mention it at all. “I mean it, Sam. It’s kind of what I do. I’m not offering therapy or anything, even though that is actually what I do, but I am a good listener for friends, too. I can probably help you if you want to talk about things.”
“I wasn’t making an empty claim, Drew. You have a vibe or something. I guess it’s like a gut feeling. Like when you know your winger is open but you can’t see him.” She barks with laughter, and I do, too. It’s a hockey comparison we both know well.
“Thanks, Sam. I can relate to that. Will you be going to the lawyer on your own? Do you want to meet and go together?”
“I was actually going to the rink to meet the assistant coaches first.”
“I’m going to be heading there shortly to get the flooding done this morning if you want to come with me. Can you be ready in twenty minutes?”
“Yes, that will work for me. Thanks. I’ll get dressed and meet you down here.”
I head off to the shower and figure I will grab my coffee on the way out. Breakfast can wait. The fact Sam might want to talk to me has me all jittery, and I want to get in the shower before I say something to embarrass myself. I also said twenty minutes because I don’t want to keep her waiting either. When did I break off my crusty asshole side and suddenly start caring what this woman might think?
Uh oh! I think I’m about to have one of those life epiphanies. Or my heart grew like the Grinch because I’m suddenly caring a whole lot about what Sam thinks and feels, and that’s not like me.
SAM
When Drew came blazing in from outside, I hadn’t expected him to look...off balance? Stressed? I’m not sure what it was, but he didn’t seem to be giving off his usual I don’t give a fuck attitude. I sensed that me being there in the kitchen wasn’t helping, which is why I started by thanking him for his note. Once I put it out there that I was willing to talk, his shoulders dropped, and he seemed way more at ease…way more Drew. Sharing a ride to the rink with him would put me there earlier than I needed to be to meet the coaches, but it might also give me some time to get my bearings and settle the jitters in my stomach. I can already feel a panic attack coming, on and I need to get it under control.
Since the whole shit show that went down in Minnesota, my anxiety had progressively gotten worse. Yet another one of those things I didn’t want to face or deal with. However, Drew seems to intuitively know these things about me like no one else ever has, and I’m going to do my best to let him help me. It goes against everything I have ever done, but I need to change. I need to let someone in, and I need help, or I will never be able to follow through on Grandpa’s wish. I have to learn to trust someone again and accept help. If Grandpa trusted Drew, to me, that’s a ringing endorsement, but my head needs to get on board with the plan.
I put my coffee cup in the sink and look out the window. My donkey, Jack, is standing there staring back at me like he has waited for me all this time. I smile and laugh to myself. He’s such an odd animal, but we bonded, and I want to spend more time with him soon. As if he senses me watching him and can read my mind, he lets out a donkey honk and goes running away like he’s on fire. Shaking my head at his antics, I head to the stairs to get dressed and prepare myself to face a very big day in my new life head on.
I’ve decided to look professional for the assistant coaches. My bunny slippers can stay at home, for now. I will somehow get through this morning wearing regular boots. I shudder. Not to mention, I’ll come home with hot, sweaty feet. Gah!
I decide to go with a fitted business suit. It’s tailored to fit me and doesn’t look like some sort of shapeless bag off the rack. It’s black with light pink buttons on the jacket. Underneath, I go with a wide-collared, dark pink blouse. I put on my gold hoop earrings and throw my hair up into a messy, but nice-looking bun.
My makeup is barely there. Being a hockey referee and player, I was never one to wear a lot of makeup, preferring instead to keep things very minimal. I was blessed with great skin; therefore, a little lip gloss and eyeliner is all I really wear.
As a final piece, I decide to wear the gold necklace Grandpa gave me when I made my first competitive hockey team. It’s a little gold hockey skate with the #13 on a short chain. It hangs perfectly at my throat, resting on my collar bone.
I dig out my shoe bag and pick the best pair. They have a thick heel, so I won’t get stuck on any skate mats, and they give me a bit of height. I need all the inches I can get. I snort out loud. It’s the truth in so many ways. As I leave my room, snickering at my own joke because I’m usually my own biggest fan, I run into Drew in the hallway. He seems nervous again.
“Care to let me in on the joke? Or is it private with just yourself?” he asks with a tentative smile.
“Actually, I can share. It’s rather appropriate, considering our meeting the other night.” I’m barely holding my laughter in. “I picked a pair of shoes that added inches because I need inches in every aspect of my life, not just added height.” I let my eyes stray down his body and linger on his groin before snapping them up to stare at his face again.
He takes a step closer to me, and I’m almost pressed against the wall as he leans in. He’s got that smouldering look going, and his eyes sweep down my body. He leans in next to my ear, and I can feel his breath blow across my neck sending goosebumps everywhere.
“Baby, if you ever need to borrow my inches to help you out, I’d be happy to be there for you.” He takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair before heading down the stairs.
I’m left standing there, gaping at him, wondering what the fuck is happening here and telling my pussy to cool it. I was trying to joke and tease, and he turned it right around on me and got me all flustered instead of the other way around. I can’t meet the coaches while all I can think about is how many inches he flashed at me the other night. I head down the stairs still thinking about what he’s packing because I’m apparently dick obsessed now. I guess he’s maybe eight, possibly nine inches. Definitely bigger than a six. That thing is a monster, and I need another cold shower, dammit.
I grab my purse, laptop bag, and dress coat before heading outside since Drew is already out there waiting. I lock the house door and step into his very clean truck. He must think I’m a slob with how gross mine is. I fumble with my seatbelt, and he breaks the silence.
“It’s nine and a half. Stop thinking about it, or you might say something to embarrass yourself at the meeting. I can practically hear you thinking.”
He puts the truck in gear, fucking winks at me, and we get on our way. I stare at his profile. He’s a blank slate, not even phased, driving like he didn’t tell me he was packing nine and a half inches of man meat. But he’s right. It’s time to change the subject before foot in mouth disease happens at the worst time because that’s my life in a nutshell.
Time to think hockey. I release a big sigh that I hope doesn’t sound too wistful or lusty, and I open my laptop to start studying our team roster. It’s a great distraction from the man sitting next to me.
