The Games We Play
Forty-seven
Snuggled beneath the down comforter, Ali stretched her arms over her head and yawned. With a happy sigh, she looked over to see the sun had already risen over the world outside the window. The sheets of the bed were soft over her bare skin, and everything felt like it was just the right temperature. Nothing made her want to get out of bed, except the fact that she knew James was downstairs.
Ali put the first thing on that she found on the floor, which was one of James’ long sleeve shirts that he had balled up near the bed. She sniffed it, realizing he may have worn it once since it smelled faintly like this cologne, so it would do for now. She didn’t bother with pants or shorts, since everything she wore of James’ normally turned into a dress on her. So, with her t-shirt dress on, she bounced happily down the stairs.
James was in the kitchen, and met Ali with a smirk. As she walked into the room, he enjoyed the sight: she was in one of his wrinkled shirts, her hair was tied up in a lopsided ponytail, and her smile looked guilty.
“Well, well, well” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “If it isn’t the Squealer herself.”
She passed by him and went for the coffee pot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh!” James laughed. “We’re playing this game, eh?” He saw Ali look over her shoulder and smile, hair tossing to one side.
“Game? I know of no game.”
James rolled his eyes hard and went over to hug her from behind. As if on cue, she let out a little squeal, which only made James laugh more. “You are SO guilty!”
Ali felt his arms tighten around her waist and she couldn’t help but laugh a little as well. “Can’t I just say thanks without you razzing me?”
“Nope.” He kissed her cheek. “Squealer.”
“Shut up!” Ali spun around, but James held her just as tightly.
“Why do you even bother trying to resist?”
Ali couldn’t even if she wanted to, and she definitely didn’t. James was looking down at her in his arms, his gaze full of both amusement and pride.
“I’m glad you slept well” he said. “That was the goal.”
“Thank you.”
“That, and to make you cum again.”
“AGAIN?” She laughed. “That makes me sound like I’m easy!”
“You are.” James gave her a quick peck on the lips. “But only because I have this memorized.” He held her out and nodded towards her hips. “By the way…have I told you how sexy it is when you wear something of mine?”
“Coffee, James.” She pointed to her cup that still remained empty. “Please?”
He sighed. “If I must.” He let go and admired her from a slightly further distance. “You must have been asleep the entire rest of the night after we went upstairs. Nothing could wake you.”
“It was a deep damn sleep, that’s for sure” Ali said, fixing her coffee.
“Have any dreams?”
“Just one.”
“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”
She looked over and smiled. “That I had some handsome hockey player’s tongue between my legs for an hour last night.”
James was grinning. “That was no dream, babe.”
“Sure felt like it.” She turned and leaned back against the counter, nursing her first sip of coffee. Their eyes met and James kept that satisfied smirk plastered on his face. Ali knew it deserved to be there; he was as talented with a stick as he was with her body.
“So” James said.
“So.”
“How do you want to spend the last day of the first year we’ve been together?”
The way he phrased it made Ali’s stomach do a little flip in happiness. “I don’t know….Want to do dinner? Though I’m sure everywhere is booked already though.”
“Dinner sounds good to me” James replied, thinking to himself. “But let’s stay in.”
“Really? You don’t think we can get a table somewhere?”
“No, I just want to stay in.” He smiled. “Just you and me.”
“I like that idea.” Ali’s stomach did another little flip. “We can get dressed up like we’re going out, then do absolutely nothing and go nowhere.”
“Even better idea” James said with a laugh.
“Have you ever stayed in for New Years before?”
James thought for a second. “Don’t think so, no.”
“Wow.” Ali felt bad. “You know, if you and the guys wanted to—“
“—No.” James gave a half-smile. “I want this instead.”
They stood looking at one another, both happy and content. Ali was busy thinking about how fun her relationship with James was, and James was busy thinking about how he was going to make dinner whether Ali wanted him to or not. He wanted to treat her, and Thanksgiving had given him some confidence in trying to turn the stove on again.
“Last day of the first year we’ve been together, huh?” Ali remarked. I like the way that sounds.
“Hopefully not the last, either” James answered.
I like the way that sounds even more, she thought.
* * *
Ali spent a solid two hours upstairs on the telephone later that afternoon. She called Brittany and talked with her for a while to get an update on the Tyler situation. The girls wished each other a happy new year, and Brittany wished Ali the best of luck in the race. Ali called her parents next. They talked logistics on where they would meet after the race, and where her mom and dad would be standing to watch the race.
As all of this talking was going on, James was downstairs. He hadn’t dressed yet, but that’s because he was playing chef tonight. Ali didn’t know he was even doing it, either. When she’d gone upstairs to catch up with her friends and family, it was about 5pm. Now, it was 5:30, and the salad was already made, garlic bread was in the oven, and the spaghetti was boiling.
James stood in front of the stove, pulling at his bottom lip while he thought things over. Everything but the sauce. That comes last….I think. Ali always heats it separately. He nodded. This isn’t so hard after all.
His original plan all along was to make her a giant carb dinner, since it was the night before her race. He had experience with this type of meal before games, to the point where his body craved it if he didn’t have it. Ali always offered to make dinner before his home games when she was able to. Tonight though, it was his chance to make her one.
Back upstairs, when Ali was done talking, she moseyed down to the kitchen. She found James standing deep in thought in front of a giant pot of boiling water. His back was to her, with just his black dress pants on, the waistband of his boxer briefs visible.
“Whatchya thinking about?”
James jumped a little. “Shit, babe.”
“Sorry, sorry…” She winced a little.
"It's okay. How is everyone? How's Britt?"
"Good.....good enough, anyways." Ali tried to look over James' shoulder. “What’s all this?” She pointed to the pot and the oven, where she could smell something tasty.
“All this is yours” James replied, the smile returning to his face. “And you need to go get dressed and not worry about it.”
Ali was intrigued. “Get dressed, huh.”
“Yes.” James gave her a firm pat on the ass. “Now go back upstairs and take your time getting ready and wait for my cue.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you doing all of this?”
James smiled. The brightness in Ali’s eyes as she asked this made her entire face light up. It was one of James’ favorite sights.
“Simple, babe – I want to treat you to dinner. And I need practice if I’m going to keep this sort of thing up.”
Ali cocked her head to the side. “Keep this sort of thing up?!?”
“Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “So go pick out a hot dress and bust out those thigh highs stockings. I wouldn’t mind getting a peek at those one more time.”
As Ali turned to leave, she looked back at James one more time. His statement caught her off guard. I need practice if I’m going to keep this sort of thing up. Those were his words, right?
She took the stairs one at a time slowly up to the second floor, mulling over what James had said. Brittany would have an opinion on this, she thought to herself. She wondered if it would be the same as hers….because hers made her feel really damn good inside.
In front of her and James’ large walk-in closet, Ali stared at her rack of dresses. She knew almost immediately which one she would wear. She pulled the hanger that held the maroon-colored wrap dress she considered back when they had a date night together. It seemed fitting, since that was the night James discovered Ali even owned a pair of thigh high stockings.
So as slowly as she could, Ali got herself ready for dinner, which wasn’t all that slow at all. With her hair down, diamond necklace resting in her cleavage, and a wrap dress that would likely make James forget it was even New Year’s Eve, Ali smiled at herself in the mirror. Who knew she’d cross the border of one year into the next with a professional hockey player? Who knew she’d become friends with his team and their wives, AND their kids? Who knew?
“Not me” she replied aloud. With her hands, she fluffed the ends of her hair which were curled into large, bouncy ringlets. She dabbed a little of her favorite perfume on her neck, and put one little dab on the middle of her chest.
Going to the door, she cracked it open a bit and listened. Downstairs, James seemed to be clanging and banging something around. Ali smiled and closed the door again. Oh my God, could this man be any more adorable than he is right now? She heard dishes, then the drawer containing silverware being pulled. Her heart started beating more quickly, because it likely wouldn’t be long now, and she was actually excited. Sitting on the edge of their bed, she waited for whatever cue James was supposedly giving her to let her know dinner was ready.
Footsteps up the stairway were heard, then James’ tall figure burst into the room. He saw Ali sitting there plainly on the bed and laughed.
“Well don’t look so excited” he said with a smirk.
Ali shrugged. “Just waiting, that’s all.”
“It’s almost ready. I promise.”
James went into the closet now and grabbed a suit coat and shirt. He held up two choices next to his chest and looked down.
“Which one?”
Inspecting both, Ali pointed to the combo in his right hand. He stepped forward and kissed her. “Thank you, I was hoping you’d say that.”
She smiled and watched him slip the shirt on over his broad shoulders. Watching him dress always made her giggle. James was like one giant, awkward kid who didn’t quite know how to get ready. No wonder he always wears sweats. He struggled slightly with getting the shirt on, and Ali bit her tongue.
James looked at her as he began to button it. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Ali was smiling, swinging her feet lightly against the bedframe as she waited. “You’re just cute, that’s all.”
James unbuttoned his pants so he had room to tuck his shirt in. Ali watched with some fascination because even the shiny fabric of his button-down couldn’t mask all the muscles moving together in this simple action. Next was his belt. As he slid it around his waist, the pewter buckle was like a bullseye for where Ali wanted to be at that very moment.
Disappearing into the closet once more, James came out with three ties. “Preference?”
“Hmmm….” Ali held out longer than she needed to, just to fuck with him.
James sighed. “Really?”
“I can’t decide! SHH!” She stared at the three ties as if it was the hardest choice she ever had to make. Finally, James tossed two of them back into the closet, not bothering to hang them up.
“Red it is” he said, throwing it around his neck. “It kind of matches your dress….which…..by the way…..looks great on you.”
Ali went to him and took the ends of his tie from him. “Thank you. Recognize it?” She smiled up at him as she began to loop his tie for him.
“Of course.” James knew exactly what dress it was. He knew every line of every dress and how they fit on Ali, only he’d never tell her that. “Second choice from date night, right?”
“Mm hmm.”
She wound the fabric adeptly into a perfect knot with her fingers while James watched from above. His eyes couldn’t help but move to the sparkling white gem pressed between the curves of her breasts. With one finger, he lifted the necklace away from her skin so that it was dangling.
“It was a good choice, huh?”
Ali gave his tie a playful tug. “Everything about that night was a good choice.”
James let the pendant slide off his finger. It resumed its spot nestled in Ali’s cleavage, and his eyes lifted to meet hers. This might be the first year he’d ever not gone out for New Year’s Eve and he didn’t even care. He’d gotten about two dozen text messages from some of the guys asking him to come out, asking him to stop being pussy-whipped, asking him to bring Ali along if he “couldn’t manage being away for a night”, and none of it even mattered to him. They’d understand eventually.
Downstairs, a timer dinged. Ali’s brow bent in confusion, but James grinned.
“I think our reserved table is ready.”
* * *
Ali was impressed. REALLY impressed.
James used the tablecloth they swore they’d never use again after Thanksgiving. He also turned all the kitchen lights down, with just a few lights on in the hall and the lights from the Christmas tree still glowing in the living room. In a way, it was just as romantic as a restaurant would have been.
The dinner was damn good, too, which impressed Ali even more. James had explained how important it was to carb up before her race, so she had exactly three helpings of spaghetti, two pieces of garlic bread, and a bite of the salad which James basically inhaled. He also made short work of whatever spaghetti Ali didn’t eat, and they split the last piece of garlic bread.
Ali was distracted by James the entire time they ate. The way he spiked his hair, the slightest hint of stubble framing his mouth and jaw was starting to come back, and the suit he wore just to have dinner with her in their own kitchen….it was all amazing. He turned her on. The best part was: she could gaze at him all she wanted with no interruptions. She could laugh as loudly as she wanted at his jokes without anyone else glaring at her. It may have been the best dinner they’d ever attended.
Across the table, James was just as enamored by Ali as she was by him. Every bite of food she ate, he felt a little more proud, and every laugh he got from her made him feel a little more special. He watched as Ali swirled pasta around her fork, then lifted it to her perfect mouth and took a bite.
“You could be Italian” she said, mouth somewhat full.
James only grinned. “Whatever you say, babe.”
“For real, though.” She took a sip of wine and held the glass rather limply, using every inch of her body to flirt with him, even though she didn’t realize it. “Don’t tell my mom, but this garlic bread is way better than hers.”
“Liar!” James cracked up laughing. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to force it, Ali.”
“I’m not!” She looked at him, mouth ajar. “Really!”
They eyed one another and James shook his head. Ali took another drink of wine, her eyes never leaving James’, which he found sexy as hell.
“Can you believe what we’re doing?” he asked.
“What are we doing?” Ali set the glass down.
James wasn’t sure where that statement was going. He just felt something come to him, some weird emotion. I have a lot of those anymore. He looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t know, just….us like this, having dinner on New Year’s Eve, in our own house. Aren’t we supposed to be out? You know…being in our mid 20s, or something?”
Ali giggled. “Maybe this is what mid 20-somethings do, though. At least…I know I enjoy it. I don’t know what hockey players normally do on New Year’s Eve.”
They get hammered. They do dumb shit. They fuck dumb sluts who they’ll never remember the next day. They talk big about their game, on and off the ice.
James sighed.
Across the table, Ali’s lighthearted smile faded a little. “Babe?”
He looked up. “Sorry, just thinking.”
“Think out loud, please?”
James saw the pleading look in her brown eyes. “Well….just think about this year for a second. Did you think you’d be sitting here with me right now?”
Ali blinked. “I don’t know what you mean…”
“I mean….” James tried to think of a way to put it better. “That you and I…..you know, would last this long. Considering what I do and all.”
Uncomfortably, Ali shrugged. “I guess I don’t try to think too far ahead.”
“I didn’t think I did either.”
The blue of his eyes faded a little, and he looked down at the pasta that was still on his plate. Ali waited silently, unsure of what to say or what to ask.
“Are you glad you’re sitting here right now?” she asked carefully.
James heard the fear in her voice and lifted both hands to grab hers across the table. “No, no – that’s not what I meant.” He leaned forward more. “What I guess I’m trying to say but sucking majorly at is….I’m glad for what you’ve brought to my life….This year. Because, with all my fuck-ups, I never thought—“
“—James….”
“No, listen.”
Ali could tell he was struggling with something, just from the way his jaw was set, but his eyes gave him away every time. Right now, they were giving away how confused he was.
“I want to thank you” he said, “…and I want this to keep going.”
Go away tears, please. Please go away. She nodded, seeing he wasn’t done talking yet.
“…and also, I know it’s taken me a little longer to get the hang of this whole….” He shook his head. “I guess commitment? Thing? Way of life?” His eyes met hers and he smiled out of embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“It’s okay” Ali said, rubbing her thumbs over his larger hands. She hoped tp transfer some comfort through her touch. “I want this to keep going too.”
James smiled. “Well that’s good."
Ali let out a little giggle.
“And the other stuff?” he asked.
“You mean these ‘fuck ups’ you still haven’t forgiven yourself for?”
“Yeah, those.” He braced himself. Whatever was about to be said, he deserved it.
“Well what good is it to live in the past? What good is it if I keep thinking about how these puck sluts, or whatever you call them, don’t get it and push their boundaries? Your intent was never to hurt me, right?”
It was weird hearing Ali use that term, but he understood what she was saying. He still made out with a chick because he was hammered. He didn’t even remember it, that was the worst part. What if he did it again?
That’s impossible. I have plans.
“Babe?”
James jumped out of his thoughts. “You’re right, yes. But you know that, though.”
“I do.” She smiled. “So can we not worry about that anymore?”
“But you questioned our relationship at one point.”
“And we worked it out, right?”
James felt stupid. He felt weak and stupid and ridiculous. He dominated on the ice; he was respected amongst the league; he was an all-star; he was going to the Olympics. What the fuck was he doing right now?
Across from him, Ali could plainly see on James’ face what he was feeling inside. She got up and went over to him, moving his arm so she could sit on his lap. He hugged her close, her perfume pulling him in further.
“Look at me, please?”
He did.
“Don’t feel bad for bringing this up.”
How does she DO that?
“And don’t think any more about what happened a couple months ago. I’m not.”
I won’t. Just stay with me forever.
“So let’s just leave that in this year, and when we cross over here, in….” Ali looked up at the clock on their wall. “…in 4 hours….we never revisit it again. New year, new us.”
“Okay.” James loved her. The guys didn’t get it. They likely never would. Maybe the other married guys, sure, but even they gave him shit. He was the little brother…maybe that was just his place. He’d take it.
“Are we okay?” Ali asked him. She searched his troubled gaze for some sign that he’d heard her, or understood, or agreed, or….anything.
James nodded, pulling her even more snugly against him. Her chest was in line with his eyes, and the shimmering diamond around her neck that he bought her seemed to sparkle even more than ever.
New year. New us.
Another diamond would join the one on Ali’s pendant someday, only it wouldn’t be around her neck. He hoped he’d still have that chance in the future.
“Quit staring at my boobs.”
James laughed and looked up at Ali, who was smirking at him.
“Kidding. Go ahead” she said.
“The diamond, babe. It was the diamond.”
She lifted one of her sharp eyebrows.
“….and your boobs….”
Ali laughed, then placed both hands on James’ face and brought him in for a kiss.
* * *
11:57 pm.
11:58 pm.
11:59 pm.
Midnight.
Both cell phone alarms went off on opposite bedside tables. Ali woke up and reached for hers. Beside her, James groggily reached for his. When they silenced the alarms, they rolled back to the middle of the bed. They clasped hands, each smiling into one another’s eyes.
“Happy new year” Ali said softly.
“Happy new year, babe” James replied.
Outside, fireworks could be heard and down the street, cheering could be heard coming from various houses. James lifted Ali’s hands to his mouth and kissed them, listening to the commotion outside their bedroom.
“Love you” he said.
“Love you, too.”
Their mouths met, and they began their new year the way both of them wanted: together.
* * *
Ali put the first thing on that she found on the floor, which was one of James’ long sleeve shirts that he had balled up near the bed. She sniffed it, realizing he may have worn it once since it smelled faintly like this cologne, so it would do for now. She didn’t bother with pants or shorts, since everything she wore of James’ normally turned into a dress on her. So, with her t-shirt dress on, she bounced happily down the stairs.
James was in the kitchen, and met Ali with a smirk. As she walked into the room, he enjoyed the sight: she was in one of his wrinkled shirts, her hair was tied up in a lopsided ponytail, and her smile looked guilty.
“Well, well, well” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “If it isn’t the Squealer herself.”
She passed by him and went for the coffee pot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh!” James laughed. “We’re playing this game, eh?” He saw Ali look over her shoulder and smile, hair tossing to one side.
“Game? I know of no game.”
James rolled his eyes hard and went over to hug her from behind. As if on cue, she let out a little squeal, which only made James laugh more. “You are SO guilty!”
Ali felt his arms tighten around her waist and she couldn’t help but laugh a little as well. “Can’t I just say thanks without you razzing me?”
“Nope.” He kissed her cheek. “Squealer.”
“Shut up!” Ali spun around, but James held her just as tightly.
“Why do you even bother trying to resist?”
Ali couldn’t even if she wanted to, and she definitely didn’t. James was looking down at her in his arms, his gaze full of both amusement and pride.
“I’m glad you slept well” he said. “That was the goal.”
“Thank you.”
“That, and to make you cum again.”
“AGAIN?” She laughed. “That makes me sound like I’m easy!”
“You are.” James gave her a quick peck on the lips. “But only because I have this memorized.” He held her out and nodded towards her hips. “By the way…have I told you how sexy it is when you wear something of mine?”
“Coffee, James.” She pointed to her cup that still remained empty. “Please?”
He sighed. “If I must.” He let go and admired her from a slightly further distance. “You must have been asleep the entire rest of the night after we went upstairs. Nothing could wake you.”
“It was a deep damn sleep, that’s for sure” Ali said, fixing her coffee.
“Have any dreams?”
“Just one.”
“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”
She looked over and smiled. “That I had some handsome hockey player’s tongue between my legs for an hour last night.”
James was grinning. “That was no dream, babe.”
“Sure felt like it.” She turned and leaned back against the counter, nursing her first sip of coffee. Their eyes met and James kept that satisfied smirk plastered on his face. Ali knew it deserved to be there; he was as talented with a stick as he was with her body.
“So” James said.
“So.”
“How do you want to spend the last day of the first year we’ve been together?”
The way he phrased it made Ali’s stomach do a little flip in happiness. “I don’t know….Want to do dinner? Though I’m sure everywhere is booked already though.”
“Dinner sounds good to me” James replied, thinking to himself. “But let’s stay in.”
“Really? You don’t think we can get a table somewhere?”
“No, I just want to stay in.” He smiled. “Just you and me.”
“I like that idea.” Ali’s stomach did another little flip. “We can get dressed up like we’re going out, then do absolutely nothing and go nowhere.”
“Even better idea” James said with a laugh.
“Have you ever stayed in for New Years before?”
James thought for a second. “Don’t think so, no.”
“Wow.” Ali felt bad. “You know, if you and the guys wanted to—“
“—No.” James gave a half-smile. “I want this instead.”
They stood looking at one another, both happy and content. Ali was busy thinking about how fun her relationship with James was, and James was busy thinking about how he was going to make dinner whether Ali wanted him to or not. He wanted to treat her, and Thanksgiving had given him some confidence in trying to turn the stove on again.
“Last day of the first year we’ve been together, huh?” Ali remarked. I like the way that sounds.
“Hopefully not the last, either” James answered.
I like the way that sounds even more, she thought.
* * *
Ali spent a solid two hours upstairs on the telephone later that afternoon. She called Brittany and talked with her for a while to get an update on the Tyler situation. The girls wished each other a happy new year, and Brittany wished Ali the best of luck in the race. Ali called her parents next. They talked logistics on where they would meet after the race, and where her mom and dad would be standing to watch the race.
As all of this talking was going on, James was downstairs. He hadn’t dressed yet, but that’s because he was playing chef tonight. Ali didn’t know he was even doing it, either. When she’d gone upstairs to catch up with her friends and family, it was about 5pm. Now, it was 5:30, and the salad was already made, garlic bread was in the oven, and the spaghetti was boiling.
James stood in front of the stove, pulling at his bottom lip while he thought things over. Everything but the sauce. That comes last….I think. Ali always heats it separately. He nodded. This isn’t so hard after all.
His original plan all along was to make her a giant carb dinner, since it was the night before her race. He had experience with this type of meal before games, to the point where his body craved it if he didn’t have it. Ali always offered to make dinner before his home games when she was able to. Tonight though, it was his chance to make her one.
Back upstairs, when Ali was done talking, she moseyed down to the kitchen. She found James standing deep in thought in front of a giant pot of boiling water. His back was to her, with just his black dress pants on, the waistband of his boxer briefs visible.
“Whatchya thinking about?”
James jumped a little. “Shit, babe.”
“Sorry, sorry…” She winced a little.
"It's okay. How is everyone? How's Britt?"
"Good.....good enough, anyways." Ali tried to look over James' shoulder. “What’s all this?” She pointed to the pot and the oven, where she could smell something tasty.
“All this is yours” James replied, the smile returning to his face. “And you need to go get dressed and not worry about it.”
Ali was intrigued. “Get dressed, huh.”
“Yes.” James gave her a firm pat on the ass. “Now go back upstairs and take your time getting ready and wait for my cue.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you doing all of this?”
James smiled. The brightness in Ali’s eyes as she asked this made her entire face light up. It was one of James’ favorite sights.
“Simple, babe – I want to treat you to dinner. And I need practice if I’m going to keep this sort of thing up.”
Ali cocked her head to the side. “Keep this sort of thing up?!?”
“Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “So go pick out a hot dress and bust out those thigh highs stockings. I wouldn’t mind getting a peek at those one more time.”
As Ali turned to leave, she looked back at James one more time. His statement caught her off guard. I need practice if I’m going to keep this sort of thing up. Those were his words, right?
She took the stairs one at a time slowly up to the second floor, mulling over what James had said. Brittany would have an opinion on this, she thought to herself. She wondered if it would be the same as hers….because hers made her feel really damn good inside.
In front of her and James’ large walk-in closet, Ali stared at her rack of dresses. She knew almost immediately which one she would wear. She pulled the hanger that held the maroon-colored wrap dress she considered back when they had a date night together. It seemed fitting, since that was the night James discovered Ali even owned a pair of thigh high stockings.
So as slowly as she could, Ali got herself ready for dinner, which wasn’t all that slow at all. With her hair down, diamond necklace resting in her cleavage, and a wrap dress that would likely make James forget it was even New Year’s Eve, Ali smiled at herself in the mirror. Who knew she’d cross the border of one year into the next with a professional hockey player? Who knew she’d become friends with his team and their wives, AND their kids? Who knew?
“Not me” she replied aloud. With her hands, she fluffed the ends of her hair which were curled into large, bouncy ringlets. She dabbed a little of her favorite perfume on her neck, and put one little dab on the middle of her chest.
Going to the door, she cracked it open a bit and listened. Downstairs, James seemed to be clanging and banging something around. Ali smiled and closed the door again. Oh my God, could this man be any more adorable than he is right now? She heard dishes, then the drawer containing silverware being pulled. Her heart started beating more quickly, because it likely wouldn’t be long now, and she was actually excited. Sitting on the edge of their bed, she waited for whatever cue James was supposedly giving her to let her know dinner was ready.
Footsteps up the stairway were heard, then James’ tall figure burst into the room. He saw Ali sitting there plainly on the bed and laughed.
“Well don’t look so excited” he said with a smirk.
Ali shrugged. “Just waiting, that’s all.”
“It’s almost ready. I promise.”
James went into the closet now and grabbed a suit coat and shirt. He held up two choices next to his chest and looked down.
“Which one?”
Inspecting both, Ali pointed to the combo in his right hand. He stepped forward and kissed her. “Thank you, I was hoping you’d say that.”
She smiled and watched him slip the shirt on over his broad shoulders. Watching him dress always made her giggle. James was like one giant, awkward kid who didn’t quite know how to get ready. No wonder he always wears sweats. He struggled slightly with getting the shirt on, and Ali bit her tongue.
James looked at her as he began to button it. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Ali was smiling, swinging her feet lightly against the bedframe as she waited. “You’re just cute, that’s all.”
James unbuttoned his pants so he had room to tuck his shirt in. Ali watched with some fascination because even the shiny fabric of his button-down couldn’t mask all the muscles moving together in this simple action. Next was his belt. As he slid it around his waist, the pewter buckle was like a bullseye for where Ali wanted to be at that very moment.
Disappearing into the closet once more, James came out with three ties. “Preference?”
“Hmmm….” Ali held out longer than she needed to, just to fuck with him.
James sighed. “Really?”
“I can’t decide! SHH!” She stared at the three ties as if it was the hardest choice she ever had to make. Finally, James tossed two of them back into the closet, not bothering to hang them up.
“Red it is” he said, throwing it around his neck. “It kind of matches your dress….which…..by the way…..looks great on you.”
Ali went to him and took the ends of his tie from him. “Thank you. Recognize it?” She smiled up at him as she began to loop his tie for him.
“Of course.” James knew exactly what dress it was. He knew every line of every dress and how they fit on Ali, only he’d never tell her that. “Second choice from date night, right?”
“Mm hmm.”
She wound the fabric adeptly into a perfect knot with her fingers while James watched from above. His eyes couldn’t help but move to the sparkling white gem pressed between the curves of her breasts. With one finger, he lifted the necklace away from her skin so that it was dangling.
“It was a good choice, huh?”
Ali gave his tie a playful tug. “Everything about that night was a good choice.”
James let the pendant slide off his finger. It resumed its spot nestled in Ali’s cleavage, and his eyes lifted to meet hers. This might be the first year he’d ever not gone out for New Year’s Eve and he didn’t even care. He’d gotten about two dozen text messages from some of the guys asking him to come out, asking him to stop being pussy-whipped, asking him to bring Ali along if he “couldn’t manage being away for a night”, and none of it even mattered to him. They’d understand eventually.
Downstairs, a timer dinged. Ali’s brow bent in confusion, but James grinned.
“I think our reserved table is ready.”
* * *
Ali was impressed. REALLY impressed.
James used the tablecloth they swore they’d never use again after Thanksgiving. He also turned all the kitchen lights down, with just a few lights on in the hall and the lights from the Christmas tree still glowing in the living room. In a way, it was just as romantic as a restaurant would have been.
The dinner was damn good, too, which impressed Ali even more. James had explained how important it was to carb up before her race, so she had exactly three helpings of spaghetti, two pieces of garlic bread, and a bite of the salad which James basically inhaled. He also made short work of whatever spaghetti Ali didn’t eat, and they split the last piece of garlic bread.
Ali was distracted by James the entire time they ate. The way he spiked his hair, the slightest hint of stubble framing his mouth and jaw was starting to come back, and the suit he wore just to have dinner with her in their own kitchen….it was all amazing. He turned her on. The best part was: she could gaze at him all she wanted with no interruptions. She could laugh as loudly as she wanted at his jokes without anyone else glaring at her. It may have been the best dinner they’d ever attended.
Across the table, James was just as enamored by Ali as she was by him. Every bite of food she ate, he felt a little more proud, and every laugh he got from her made him feel a little more special. He watched as Ali swirled pasta around her fork, then lifted it to her perfect mouth and took a bite.
“You could be Italian” she said, mouth somewhat full.
James only grinned. “Whatever you say, babe.”
“For real, though.” She took a sip of wine and held the glass rather limply, using every inch of her body to flirt with him, even though she didn’t realize it. “Don’t tell my mom, but this garlic bread is way better than hers.”
“Liar!” James cracked up laughing. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to force it, Ali.”
“I’m not!” She looked at him, mouth ajar. “Really!”
They eyed one another and James shook his head. Ali took another drink of wine, her eyes never leaving James’, which he found sexy as hell.
“Can you believe what we’re doing?” he asked.
“What are we doing?” Ali set the glass down.
James wasn’t sure where that statement was going. He just felt something come to him, some weird emotion. I have a lot of those anymore. He looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t know, just….us like this, having dinner on New Year’s Eve, in our own house. Aren’t we supposed to be out? You know…being in our mid 20s, or something?”
Ali giggled. “Maybe this is what mid 20-somethings do, though. At least…I know I enjoy it. I don’t know what hockey players normally do on New Year’s Eve.”
They get hammered. They do dumb shit. They fuck dumb sluts who they’ll never remember the next day. They talk big about their game, on and off the ice.
James sighed.
Across the table, Ali’s lighthearted smile faded a little. “Babe?”
He looked up. “Sorry, just thinking.”
“Think out loud, please?”
James saw the pleading look in her brown eyes. “Well….just think about this year for a second. Did you think you’d be sitting here with me right now?”
Ali blinked. “I don’t know what you mean…”
“I mean….” James tried to think of a way to put it better. “That you and I…..you know, would last this long. Considering what I do and all.”
Uncomfortably, Ali shrugged. “I guess I don’t try to think too far ahead.”
“I didn’t think I did either.”
The blue of his eyes faded a little, and he looked down at the pasta that was still on his plate. Ali waited silently, unsure of what to say or what to ask.
“Are you glad you’re sitting here right now?” she asked carefully.
James heard the fear in her voice and lifted both hands to grab hers across the table. “No, no – that’s not what I meant.” He leaned forward more. “What I guess I’m trying to say but sucking majorly at is….I’m glad for what you’ve brought to my life….This year. Because, with all my fuck-ups, I never thought—“
“—James….”
“No, listen.”
Ali could tell he was struggling with something, just from the way his jaw was set, but his eyes gave him away every time. Right now, they were giving away how confused he was.
“I want to thank you” he said, “…and I want this to keep going.”
Go away tears, please. Please go away. She nodded, seeing he wasn’t done talking yet.
“…and also, I know it’s taken me a little longer to get the hang of this whole….” He shook his head. “I guess commitment? Thing? Way of life?” His eyes met hers and he smiled out of embarrassment. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“It’s okay” Ali said, rubbing her thumbs over his larger hands. She hoped tp transfer some comfort through her touch. “I want this to keep going too.”
James smiled. “Well that’s good."
Ali let out a little giggle.
“And the other stuff?” he asked.
“You mean these ‘fuck ups’ you still haven’t forgiven yourself for?”
“Yeah, those.” He braced himself. Whatever was about to be said, he deserved it.
“Well what good is it to live in the past? What good is it if I keep thinking about how these puck sluts, or whatever you call them, don’t get it and push their boundaries? Your intent was never to hurt me, right?”
It was weird hearing Ali use that term, but he understood what she was saying. He still made out with a chick because he was hammered. He didn’t even remember it, that was the worst part. What if he did it again?
That’s impossible. I have plans.
“Babe?”
James jumped out of his thoughts. “You’re right, yes. But you know that, though.”
“I do.” She smiled. “So can we not worry about that anymore?”
“But you questioned our relationship at one point.”
“And we worked it out, right?”
James felt stupid. He felt weak and stupid and ridiculous. He dominated on the ice; he was respected amongst the league; he was an all-star; he was going to the Olympics. What the fuck was he doing right now?
Across from him, Ali could plainly see on James’ face what he was feeling inside. She got up and went over to him, moving his arm so she could sit on his lap. He hugged her close, her perfume pulling him in further.
“Look at me, please?”
He did.
“Don’t feel bad for bringing this up.”
How does she DO that?
“And don’t think any more about what happened a couple months ago. I’m not.”
I won’t. Just stay with me forever.
“So let’s just leave that in this year, and when we cross over here, in….” Ali looked up at the clock on their wall. “…in 4 hours….we never revisit it again. New year, new us.”
“Okay.” James loved her. The guys didn’t get it. They likely never would. Maybe the other married guys, sure, but even they gave him shit. He was the little brother…maybe that was just his place. He’d take it.
“Are we okay?” Ali asked him. She searched his troubled gaze for some sign that he’d heard her, or understood, or agreed, or….anything.
James nodded, pulling her even more snugly against him. Her chest was in line with his eyes, and the shimmering diamond around her neck that he bought her seemed to sparkle even more than ever.
New year. New us.
Another diamond would join the one on Ali’s pendant someday, only it wouldn’t be around her neck. He hoped he’d still have that chance in the future.
“Quit staring at my boobs.”
James laughed and looked up at Ali, who was smirking at him.
“Kidding. Go ahead” she said.
“The diamond, babe. It was the diamond.”
She lifted one of her sharp eyebrows.
“….and your boobs….”
Ali laughed, then placed both hands on James’ face and brought him in for a kiss.
* * *
11:57 pm.
11:58 pm.
11:59 pm.
Midnight.
Both cell phone alarms went off on opposite bedside tables. Ali woke up and reached for hers. Beside her, James groggily reached for his. When they silenced the alarms, they rolled back to the middle of the bed. They clasped hands, each smiling into one another’s eyes.
“Happy new year” Ali said softly.
“Happy new year, babe” James replied.
Outside, fireworks could be heard and down the street, cheering could be heard coming from various houses. James lifted Ali’s hands to his mouth and kissed them, listening to the commotion outside their bedroom.
“Love you” he said.
“Love you, too.”
Their mouths met, and they began their new year the way both of them wanted: together.
* * *
@Lolo2020
Thank you so much! Amazing people still read it and enjoy it so much. That was my goal :)
2/6/17