Delayed Penalty: A Pilots Hockey Novel (12 page)

I stood in front of him, mouth agape because I’d never seen a naked man in real life. Near-nude men filled the Pilots locker room while I translated, but strategically placed towels always covered any indecent parts. I’d seen photos of models wearing their pants so low you could see the
V
of their pelvic bones and the “happy trail,” but I’d never seen where the trail led. Sure, textbooks from health class had drawings of male parts and how they functioned, but a scientific drawing didn’t prepare me for seeing the real thing. It wasn’t that intimidating, but then, it wasn’t “ready for battle.”

Don’t look, Auden. Do not look.

“Sasha, my grandparents are upstairs,” I whispered. “You need to get dressed.”

“No. I need to take a piss,” he responded, scratching his head.

Hoping Aleksandr would understand the universal sign for
shhhh,
I put a finger to my lips. Then I took his hand and led him to the bathroom, stooping to scoop up his clothes on the way. I stood outside the door and let him complete his business. When he stumbled out, I placed my hands on his back and directed him toward my room. His muscles rippled under my palms as he walked.

Thankfully, Aleksandr had the decency to slip on the boxer briefs I stuffed into his hands before he climbed into my bed and passed out. Cold.

I scanned my room for the next best sleeping option: dresser, desk, or floor. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one on the floor.

I grabbed one of Aleksandr’s arms and tried to pull him out. When he didn’t budge, I remembered from reading the Pilots media guide that I was tugging on two hundred pounds of dead weight.

I took a step back from the bed, crossing my arms over my chest as I strategized. Then I snapped my fingers and climbed over him. I tried to push him out, but quickly realized I had the same problem as pulling. I thought about leaning against the wall for leverage and pushing him out with my feet. Not a good idea because of the noise his body hitting the floor would make.

I sighed in defeat and, because I had no other option, shimmied under the covers. I snuggled up to him, laying my head on his chest since his massive body took up my entire twin-sized bed. His steady heartbeat was my personal lullaby. The rhythm of my head rising and falling with his shallow breaths rocked me to sleep. Was it possible to feel the peace inside him transfer into me? I reached out and brushed my hand through the Mohawk I loved so much.

When I heard another creak from upstairs, I froze.

When I heard footsteps, I bolted upright.

I shook Aleksandr’s shoulder a few times. He was dead to the world. “Oh, come on!” I was worried because my grandparents had a tendency to check on me during the night. It was either still a habit from when I was a kid, or they wanted to know if I’d made it home from the bar.

I shook Aleksandr again, harder this time. No response. My heart raced as I contemplated what I should do next. Pull the covers over him and run to the closet? Climb on top of him to give the illusion of only one bump? Time was running out with each heavy footstep pounding the stairs.

I yanked the blanket over Aleksandr’s head and slung my arm and leg across his body, so it looked like I was hugging a big body pillow. I didn’t own a body pillow, but whatever grandparent looked in on me wouldn’t know that.

Sure enough, I heard a scrape against the shaggy red rug in front of my door. There was no light on in the hallway, so I had complete darkness going for me. I squeezed my eyes shut, which wouldn’t make me invisible but made me feel better. I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever stood there could hear my heart as it bumped hard against my chest, attempting to escape. I held my breath until the door shut again, then let it out slowly. I stayed motionless until I heard the toilet flush, the faucet turn on and off, and heavy steps plod up the stairs. I’m not sure if I moved until I heard the familiar creak indicating that someone had gotten back into bed.

This sucked. All the kids in high school who bragged about how exciting it was to sneak people into their rooms were big fat liars. Who could handle the pressure? It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t rebellious. It wasn’t even worth it. It’s not like I would do anything with Aleksandr in my bedroom while my grandparents were upstairs.

Although he was naked at one point. And we had been making out. Some people might consider that “doing something.”

I took the covers off Aleksandr’s head, hoping I hadn’t suffocated him. Nope. Still breathing. I took a deep breath and pushed my body against his, hugging his back. It felt awkward, and I wasn’t sure I could sleep that way, so I turned around, my back against his, and curled up. Then I felt bad.

What was my problem? He wouldn’t be mad if he woke up and I had my back to him. And why should I care if he did wake up angry? Let him be pissed. Screw him for knocking on my window at three in the morning, drunk.

I yanked my pillow out from under his head and flipped it to the cool side before I nestled into it.

Awesome.

After several attempts to elbow and ninja kick myself out of the gigantic garlic press trying to squeeze me through its tiny holes, I gave up, too weak to stop it from clamping down and mincing me. Suddenly, my whole body shook, and garlic juice sprayed over my neck.

My eyes flew open, and I realized it was muscular human arms squeezing the life out of me, not a personified garlic press (thank goodness). At some point while we slept, Aleksandr must have rolled over and put his arms around me. The vise grip might not have bothered me while I was asleep, but now I found it restricting—and annoying.

Who the hell dreams of being squeezed to death by a giant garlic press? I’d hate to hear what an interpretation of that said about my mental health.

“What the fuck?” Aleksandr said through a yawn.

“Nice language.” My voice must have brought him to the reality of where he was, because his eyes widened and he bolted upright.

“Oh, hey,” he said, looking down at me. Then he smiled and laughed a little as he surveyed my room. Avoiding me.

“Morning,” I replied. I had to admit, as cool as I was trying to be, I wondered if he felt as awkward as I did. What if he never wanted to be here at all? Maybe coming over was just a stupid idea that sounded good at the peak of his drunkenness. He wasn’t speaking, which supported my conclusion that he was not excited about where he woke up.

I needed to stop caring. Now.

“You’re hot first thing in the morning.” Aleksandr leaned over, pressing his soft lips to mine.

Holy crap. I did not see that coming. Scrambling to leave: yes. Kissing me: no.

“Are you still drunk?” I asked when he pulled back.

He chuckled, his body shaking the bed. “Probably, but I would’ve done that anyway.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have done that. Doing something drunk is one thing. Doing it sober, totally different.”

“Good thing we’ve established I’m still drunk then.” Aleksandr focused on the window he’d jumped through last night. The wrinkles around his eyes smoothed, and his face paled. “Oh shit, Auden. Did we? Did I?”

“Absolutely not,” I assured him. “All we did was sleep. You climbed in my window, made out with me, and stripped before passing out cold.”

“I climbed in the window?” he asked, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, patting his bicep. “Happens all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yep, just another fun night.”

“I took all my clothes off?”

“Uh, yeah. You dropped your boxers in the living room.”

“Did you like it?”

“I didn’t even look,” I lied. I’d looked, but I hadn’t stared.

“Sorry about that.” His mouth curved, and that tiny little dip in his lip appeared. I loved that I put the real-smile dip there. I loved that he wasn’t faking when he smiled at me, even if he was just being a flirt.

No. No. NO. No more loving things about him.

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes. “No, you aren’t.”

“True,” he admitted, stretching his arms toward the ceiling. “But I am sorry I don’t remember.”

I snapped back to reality and remembered that we were in my bedroom in my grandparents’ house, not at my apartment at school.

“How the hell are you going to get out of here?” I ran a hand through my hair, until it got stuck in a snarl.
Ratty hair is super sexy, Auden
.

“Same way I came in?” Aleksandr asked, squinting at the window.

“Yes. Do that. Now.” I pushed his shoulders, pressing my palms into the sable ink I hadn’t even gotten a chance to study.

He fell backward onto the ground.

I leaned over the bed, chewing my bottom lip. “Sorry.”

“I’m sure.” He rolled his eyes. When he crunched himself into a sitting position using only his abdominal muscles, I thought I’d have to wipe the drool off my chin. It didn’t help my situation watching him grab his jeans and pull them up his perfectly chiseled legs. At least he used his unfortunate position to take action.

Lighten up
, I told myself. Until I heard my grandpa’s heavy footsteps descending the stairs.

“Get in the closet,” I whispered, pushing him toward the door with my foot.

He batted my toes away. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Please, Sasha. It’s just until my grandpa goes into the kitchen to have his coffee,” I pleaded. He swiped his shirt from the floor, before stumbling into the tiny space.

I should have felt bad that my closet was miniscule.

“Sorry,” I said to him through the door.

I was annoyed at the situation. Why did he have to come to my window drunk? Why did I let him inside? Was I this big of a stick-in-the-mud at school, or was I a bundle of nerves because I was back in my grandparents’ house?

“Morning,
Dedushka,
” I greeted Grandpa as he entered the bathroom.

“You’re up early.”

“It’s a workday.” I held up my thumbs and flashed my pearly chompers, before dashing past him toward the kitchen.

While there, I rummaged around the pantry, digging a packet of Pop-Tarts out of the box. I filled a small glass with orange juice before heading back to my room. When I heard my grandpa leave the bathroom and shuffle toward the kitchen, I opened my closet door.

“I got you breakfast.” I handed Aleksandr the Pop-Tarts and juice.

He stuffed half of one Pop-Tart in his mouth, chewing for a moment before he frowned, looking down at the dry pastry. “What is this?”

“A Pop-Tart,” I responded. He looked at it like it offended him. “You’ve never had a Pop-Tart before?”

He shrugged and took another bite.

“When do you wear this?” He lifted up a pair of black leather pants and a red lace tank top. My vampire costume from the previous Halloween.

“Church,” I answered, grabbing the clothes and throwing them back in the closet.

“Seeing you in that could make me a believer.”

I hip-checked him out of the way, shutting the closet door. “Time for you to go. I need to get showered.”

“Can I join?”

“Still drunk?” I asked again.

“Definitely,” Aleksandr said, setting the glass of OJ on my desk. Much to my traitorous heart’s dismay, he pulled his shirt over his head, covering his beautiful ink. Then he pulled up the window and swung a leg out.

“Sasha.” I grabbed his arm.

He looked up, his deep cobalt eyes searching mine.

“Last night you said you came over to make sure I was okay. Why would you think I wasn’t okay?”

“You don’t remember?”

I shook my head.

“That Jeremy guy put something in your drink. You got really dizzy and sick. I carried you to the car. Landon drove you home.”

“Are you kidding?” It was true that I didn’t remember much of the night in Canada, but I thought it was because the two vodka clubs I’d drank had put me out.

“It was completely fucked.” Aleksandr started back out the window, then paused and turned around. “I’m glad you’re okay, Audushka.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was usually so careful when we were out. I was the responsible one. I must’ve let my guard down because Jeremy was Scott’s friend. I knew better than that.

Idiot.

“Thank you.” I touched his arm, catching his eyes again. I hoped they revealed my sincerity. “Seriously.”

He leaned in and pecked my lips.

When I huffed, he laughed. “I swear I’m still drunk.” He jumped and landed easily on his feet.

I leaned out, watching him retreat until he was out of sight, then ducked back inside and shut the window. A massive shiver ran through my body, so I slid back into bed and curled into the fetal position to warm up.

Aleksandr knew someone drugged me, helped get me home, and climbed in through my window to make sure I was okay. Can’t say that had ever happened to me before.

Maybe we could be friends instead of at each other’s throats all the time.

I could be open to friendship.

Chapter 10

“What’s going on with you and Aleksandr?” Kristen asked when I picked up the phone, instead of the usual hello with which most people began conversations.

“Nothing,” I said through a yawn, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder. I should have ignored the ringing, but I knew my grandparents would wake me up for the call anyway. Why didn’t anyone want me to sleep today?

“Um, yes, there is something. He left here last night completely plastered saying he had to check on you. And he didn’t come back until this morning.”

I sprang up, grabbing the phone before it fell. “Excuse me? What do you mean ‘here’? Where is ‘here”?” I asked, ignoring her interrogation by starting my own.

“Landon’s.”

“You’re at Landon’s? You spent the night with Landon?”

“He drove us home last night. I didn’t want to make him drive all the way to New Baltimore.”

“You could’ve stayed here.”

“Shut up and answer my original question.”

I smiled. Kristen and Landon. It wasn’t an odd combination, since Kristen was a grade-A knockout. I just hadn’t expected it. I’d never seen them have a conversation. Which didn’t mean much, since the end of the night was absent from my brain.