Who I am kidding? Good doesn’t come easily for me.
I should take what I can get.
“Fine. I’m embracing.”
“Attagirl.”
I grin. “So…are you alone?”
He laughs lightly, his face breaking into a wide grin. “I am, actually. Why? Did you get my package?”
“Not the one I really want, but a really nice black and gold one,” I say, moving out of the way so he can see the box. “I thought maybe I could do a little show for you? Let you see them in action.”
He groans. “But I can’t touch you.”
“I know.” I smirk. “Get you all hot and bothered so when you get home, you’ll come straight for me.”
He’s breathless. “Aviva, I was already coming for you. You’re my first stop.”
“Aw. I feel special.”
“You are,” he says. “I can’t wait. I’m gonna hold you so close when I get there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup, and I’m pretty sure I won’t let go for sixteen minutes.”
“Sixteen? That’s odd.”
“It’s how many days I’ve been gone, and it’s not nearly enough. But sixteen hours…we’ll start getting sticky and shit. You know how I am.”
I hold in my laughter. “I do, and I can’t wait.”
“Me either. Now put something on.”
I flash him a sexy look as I open the box and start removing the pieces of beautiful lace. Lacey’s Lace has high-quality pieces, and they’re stunning. She has won so many awards for her designs and also for all the work she’s done for survivors. I don’t think I’ve ever paid this kind of money for something that will cover my ass. “Oh, Nico, it’s all so gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you love it.”
When I pick out a strappy black number that feels like butter and looks like a million bucks, I hold it up. “I’m so putting this one on first.”
“Aviva, shut up. That’s my favorite one.” I giggle as I start to take off my clothes. “Aw shit, I get to see you undress. Hell yeah, let me see that sweet ass.”
I laugh as I turn around so all he sees is my ass. “Maybe I’d eat that ass like a damn yogurt cup.”
I look over my shoulder at him, my eyes wide, and all he is doing is grinning like a cock in a henhouse. I have never heard someone say that in my life, but the image of it has me falling onto the bed, laughing.
I have never felt so damn good in my life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nico
I’m not a fan of the Shark Tank.
It’s loud. Super loud.
Usually I can handle the crowds, but these fans are something on a Saturday night when their team had a good run last year. They’re ready for the Cup, so they need the points, and it’s my job to crush those dreams. My team just has to score and take the crowd out of it. I will keep the pucks out of the net and completely ruin everyone’s night except ours. I swallow hard, zoning in on my boys as they skate around while the Sharks’ starting line is announced. I outline their numbers with my eyes. Memorizing who’s on the ice and what their plays look like. I look up at the clock, and I wait till there are only .49 seconds until the game starts. When the number shows, I smack my stick twice on the left post, and then three times on the right. I inhale deeply, then exhale through my nose. I do this four times. I move my thumb in my glove, squeezing the stick before tapping my leg as the time expires and the puck is dropped.
Game on.
I’m ready.
I am so focused on the puck that soon the noise falls away, and all I see or hear is the puck. It’s cool how this works for me. I can hear the way puck moves when it is hit. When it’s slapped, I know it’s gonna come in hot but with a little bit of a wiggle to it. Wrist shots are sorta silent, but they move like lightning when they come toward me. All I see is the puck, but also, I see the fucker who tries to mess with me. Everyone always wants to take an extra poke at me when they can. They hate how good I am. How I can ruin their night while lying on my back like a turtle. I can still block their shot, no matter what. I will. I’m that damn good.
Seventeen minutes have already passed, and I’ve blocked all nine of their shots. My boys are throwing pucks at their net with no accuracy at all. They didn’t put up high shots last game, and while we won, it took the whole night to score that goal. Coach ripped into them for being too clean. He wanted grittiness. He also said that if it weren’t for me, we would have lost. He’s the best for stroking my ego. He and Aviva. After my shutout the other night, which she called a “shutoff,” she kept saying how impressed she was by me. It made me feel way too much.