Page 70 of Pucking Them
Wilder coming back to this town means nothing. He can try and break Robyn, D’Angelo, and my brother and me down. But we’re stronger than we ever were.
On the other hand, Wilder is a sad, pathetic excuse of a tarnished Golden Boy who cheated and lost the best woman in the world.
He’ll have to live with his regrets for the rest of his life. But I have the rest of my life to love his Birdie.
My Robyn.
Also, my cruel D’Angelo, of course.
I’d spend the rest of my life on my knees for him.
I glance sideways and catch D’Angelo adjusting his position ahead of me in case I need to pass to him.
Throughout the entire game, we’ve been perfectly in sync.
D’Angelo scored two goals as well.
This is a high scoring game.
I smile, catching D’Angelo’s eye.
Of course, it’s not been the Penguins scoring, as it’s only the Bay Rebels who have been on fire.
The score is5 — 1.
I barely hear the crowds or feel the cold of the rink.
My focus has been intense since our scene, as if I am still flying in the heavens of the starry playroom.
The playroom is D’Angelo’s favorite room, but after the observatory that he built for me, it’s close to becoming my second favorite too.
It was like walking into a candy store.
Also, I’d force myself to read through every book by the dead blokes in the library like Shakespeare and Dickens and even attend one of Michael’s boring Murder Mystery Evenings with cheese and wine — the true tortures of the world — if I received D’Angelo’s aftercare afterward.
I mean, I would need it.
In those moments, when D’Angelo wraps me in blankets, pulling me onto his lap to stroke my hair, he looks at me with this particular softness.
He praises me.
His voice is gentle.
He sounds like he’s talking to Robyn.
I don’t know if he realizes that he is doing it.
I could live in those moments.
It feels like I am stealing them, somehow. I still soak them up, however, storing each tender look, as if I am more than his sub and truly could be as precious to him as the woman he has loved since he was eighteen.
Last night, he ran me a bath, washed my hair, then massaged me until I fell asleep to his murmured words and the feel of his hands gentle on my skin.
To feeling loved.
I glow, still on a high.
This is it.
