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cellythefloshie · 6 months

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;; History Lessons Chapter Seventeen of the Road Wife Series

Table of Contents 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 16 | 17

Summary: On the road again, you are haunted by the memory of catching Pat Maroon and the first wife together at Amalie. But you find an escape - and answers - when your first appointment with Alex Killorn claims your afternoon. Kinks & Triggers: there is no smut in this chapter. Word Count: 3k

TAGLIST:@mp0625 , @equallyshaw , @charles11700 , @swissboyhisch , @wingedwheelprxncess , @luvmmarner, @fandomrejects , @misunderstoodwerewolf , @callsign-denmark , @puckmaidens , @xcicix , @starshine-hockey-girl , @cixrosie

The road trip kicked off yet again in Dallas, which felt more like a second home than a pit stop for the season which how many times the boys had played them. But that was merely a side effect of playing a condensed season in one set division. You bounced from Tampa to Sunrise, Dallas, Raleigh, Detroit, Nashville and Chicago. That was the breadth of your reality. Any other team, any other city, would only concern you when the playoffs began. Until then, only two things hung heavily over your mind. Your duties as the road wife, and the road wife that had come before you.

You had tried to keep yourself distracted with books and music and conversation. But there was no ignoring the stare of Pat on the flight that had taken you from Tampa to Dallas. And there was no ridding your mind of the memory.

It was all still so clear in your mind. Pat, sitting there on the examination table. His shirt was open, merely hanging off his shoulder. You could see everything. The tone of his chest, and the hair that grew on it. The treasure trail on his belly that leads your gaze down to the top of his belt buckle. You remembered how his hair was still wet and slicked back from his shower, and you had caught the look in his dark eyes when he realized he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t be doing.

Ella was a stark contrast to him, her soft dark hair hanging down her back and the look on her face satisfied as if she had wanted to be caught. To be seen. And you saw it all. The way her hands rested on the breadth of his thighs to just how close she was standing to him. Between his legs. So close that she could have-

You didn’t let your mind spiral as it often did when it crept into the back of your mind. The vision of them became etched there, but you refused to let yourself fill in the blanks. You refused to let yourself wonder just was happening there before you caught them.

Work kept you busy when the team had played Dallas the night before. They won with a score of 2-1, with goals from Roope Hintz and Stamkos on the power play, but it was Gourde who had scored the game-winner. But it was Vasy’s effort in the net that really won the game for the team, and they rewarded him a night with you because of it.

He had kept you busy for an hour and tired you out enough to sleep through the night, but they had another game to play in Dallas tomorrow. And while practice consumed the morning, it left the rest of the day for your mind to wander. It left you restless in your hotel room, moving from the bed to the sofa and to the bed again as you tried to read or listen to music. But nothing could bring you resolve. Not until the familiar chime of your phone met your ears. An appointment! You had an appointment!

Sprawling out over the mattress, you reached for the phone that rested face down on the nightstand. The screen was bright with life as you cradled it in your palm, your shoulders doing a shimmy of a dance as you brought it up to review the calendar notifications with a smirk. You hoped that whoever it was, was someone who could fuck the thoughts right out of your head. But when you read the name in the title of the appointment, your stomach coiled into a knot. Killorn.

You had never had an appointment with Alex before, and for a time you thought his name wouldn’t show up on your screen. That he or his girlfriend didn’t want to be involved in such an agreement. Yet, after almost 3 months in service to the team, it was time for his first appointment.

That fact both worried and excited you.

Alex was one of the 4 players that made up the leadership team. Alongside Stamkos, Hedman and McDonagh, he had access to all of your calendars. He knew what you did, and with whom. Even back in Tampa during a homestead, he knew about every appointment you kept to assure that you were ready for the next road trip. Because it was his job to know. Yet, with all the knowledge, he had always treated you kindly. Like a friend, more than a colleague.

The two of you would often watch movies on your flights together when you didn’t have an appointment to consume your time. And while you didn’t have a habit of going to anyone with any problems you had, you knew Alex was someone you could trust no matter what. That fact alone should have had you skipping down the hotel hallway to fuck him. But when you stepped out into the hallway, you moved with the same calm discretion you used for all of your appointments.

You kept your head down, though the hallway was clear, and you kept your eyes trained on the ground as you came to the door and gave it a delicate knock. He would be expecting you. There would be no need to be loud and draw attention from the surrounding rooms. It only took a moment for the door to open and for Alex to greet you, but it was with something besides hello: “Where’s the sexy nurse costume?”

A lump formed in your throat as you looked up at him. He leaned up against the door frame, his shirt discarded somewhere back in his room, but it wasn’t enough to distract you from the seriousness of his stare.

You swallowed hard before you spoke. “Sexy nurse costume?”

Your words were broken, your expression falling into concern as your hand slipped into your back pocket where you had put your phone. His appointment hadn’t mentioned a costume-

Before you could check the appointment in your calendar for any clarification, Alex’s facade had broken and fell into laughter. “I’m just fucking with you.”

You wanted to laugh, but the panic he had given you at that moment only left your eyes to roll.

“Very funny, Alex,” you said, your sarcasm dripping off your words as you leaned in, tipped your chin up and childishly wrinkled your nose at him.

It was there when you leaned in so close to him; he let his hand wind around your waist. His hand found the small of your back, pressing carefully yet firmly against it to draw you inside. Your feet shuffled against the floor for the few feet he guided you, but once you were through the threshold, his hand was slipping from you. Free from his hold, you stopped in place just long enough to kick off your shoes before you were off like a shot and jumping onto his bed. You had never been in Alex’s room on the road, but you got comfortable with ease.

You settled among the pillows and snuggled into their comfort as if the two of you were settling in for a movie, not sex. And Alex did the same, settling down beside you. He leaned back against the headboard, his athletically toned body stretched out lazily before he took hold of you by the ankle and carefully tugged you to drape your legs over his lap.

It was the first authentic touch he had given you. One that boarded, being friendly and being curious. It left you lying a little awkwardly across the bed, but you didn’t mind. It was nice just being there to escape the torment of your own mind and there was a certain peace in Alex not being in a rush. Most of the other players would have you out of your pants before you even made it to bed, but Alex seemed to want to take his time with you.

His hand dragged up and down the length of your leg slowly as you both lay there. Running from ankle to knee, the only thing between you was the thin fabric of your pants. You warmed beneath the gentle friction, your mind focused on the rhythm of his touch as the two of you fell to small talk. You spoke of the game the night before, the road ahead, and the playoffs to come all the while his hand crept up a little higher. Up and over your knee before dropping back down, slipping down the side of your leg before travelling back up again. Until his hand came to hook behind your knee and he hoisted you up to sit in his lap with an effort that could only leave you gasping.

You often forgot just how easy it would be for any of the players to really manhandle you, and in that moment, Alex had been the closest to doing it. He seated you in his lap, your knees resting on each side of him and your hands finding - and feeling - the breadths of his chest to steady yourself as you wavered for a moment. Every breath you took almost brought you to a nervous tremble as you watched him, both of you so careful, so cautious, but it could only last so long. You had a job to do.

His hand had settled on your hips, his grip on you not hard but not slipping from you either. Firm, but easy enough for you to draw a single hand from you. You held it in both of yours, drawing it up to your lips to place a careful, lingering kiss against the pad of his fingers before guiding it to your cheek. His hand splayed out against him. You could feel everything from the warmth of his palm to how his fingers stretched out into your hairline as he cradled your cheek. It is with that careful touch that Alex guided you in and welcomed your kiss.

Your lips moved against his slowly, your nose wrinkling at the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing up against the skin of your jaw. But you persisted, leaning into the cautious kiss as his grip on your hip grip a little tighter. Then your lips parted, your tongue coaxing in the embrace of his tongue, but when it slid past your lips, you had to do your best not to cower. You could feel its slick - almost slimy feeling embrace as it stroked your tongue, getting the very taste of him - which was a pleasant minty flavour. Yet, it felt wrong.

It took all your willpower to keep your composure, to keep yourself from gagging as your hands found both of his cheeks and you eased out of the kiss you shared. Your eyes shifted over his features quickly, trying to gauge how he was feeling, but Killorn was always one of the hardest people for you to read.

Sighing, you let your eyes shut, and let your question creep up the back of your throat. “Was that as weird for you as it was for me?” you asked, your words a nervous admission.

But Alex put you at ease with a low laugh. “Yeah.”

“Thank fuck,” you sigh out, the relief consuming you both with laughter as you slid out of his lap and sprawled out on the bed at his side. It rumbled through you both light thunder that rolled and then there was nothing but silence and the heavy breathing as you both tried to calm after the fit of laughter.

Then, just when the silence was under threat of becoming awkward, you leaned your head to the side and looked up at Alex. “So, what do we do now?”

The easy answer would have been for the two of you to go your separate ways. For you to return to your room, and for him to get back to whatever he was doing before you arrived. But he had you booked for the entire hour, but leaving early would be easy enough to explain - especially when there was no shame in being honest. Yet, he reached for the remote and tossed the room service menu at you.

Sitting up, you crossed your legs and placed the menu in your lap. You looked over it with a smile, your finger tracing each item as you pondered it before going to the next. You could hear Alex putting on the TV in the background. The noise was welcome, but it couldn’t keep your mind at bay. The curiosities of your mind were consuming you once more. Worst of all, you knew Alex could provide answers. Which is why there was no stopping your words are they left your lips in a careless question.

“What really happened with the last wife?”

You kept your eyes fixated on the menu, only looking up when he answered with silence. His eyes were wide, his head half-cocked to the side. He wasn’t expecting that.

“I know she slept with Tyler Seguin. He all but told me that,” you explained, your words clear and direct as you looked at him, your eyes pleading, “but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

More silence.

You fucking hated the silence. You wanted answered, even if it was something you both knew you shouldn’t be talking about. But you needed answers, so you were going to keep talking until he gave you something. Anything.

“She works for the Florida Panthers now, did you know that?” he met your eyes at the question, his soft look a silent answer. He knew. “She was at Amalie when we played them at home last…” you hesitated, swallowing hard before you spoke again, “I caught her with Pat-”

Alex cut you off with a long, exasperated sigh as his hand came up to card through his dark hair. This was it. The trigger point.

“Who else knows about this?” he asked. His words were low, and so soft that it almost made you nervous.

“Just you,” you said.

“Keep it that way.”

You stiffened. The tone of his words left your body feeling like glass. Fragile. But nowhere near the fragility of Pat’s situation. With so few words, and Alex’s mere tone, he told you that Pat would get in a lot of trouble if anyone else found out. Especially with it being so close to the postseason. The team needed him, so you would keep your mouth shut. But not with him. Not when his answers were making you all the more curious.

“You have to tell me what happened now,” you pried, pushing up onto your knees and giving him a reassuring smile.

He could trust you - or rather, you needed him to trust you.

And Alex did.

“Seguin wasn’t the only problem we had with Ella,” Alex started and it sent your stomach aflutter with nerves. “She and Pat were very close. Her betrayal cut him deeper than any of the rest of us…” he trailed off, his dark eyes shifting away from your face as she ran his hand along the angles of his jawline. Alex was trying to determine just how much he could get away with telling you without getting himself into trouble. Maybe he had already said too much, but he didn’t leave you on the edge of wanting more. “Because he was going to leave his fiance for her.”

“You’re joking!” You blurted out, your hands coming up to cover your mouth and the disbelief that consumed you.

Alex shook his head slowly, solemnly, and even then, you can’t believe it. You don’t want to.

You didn’t know how long exactly Ella had been with the team, but what you knew was that Pat had been engaged for some time before he had gotten married in the offseason. It had been a small ceremony not long before the season had started, shared in a mere handful of photographs on social media. And that he had known his now-wife long before they had entertained the idea of a relationship.

They had always seemed happy, in love. And he was going to throw it all away because of her. That was until he found out she had slept with Seguin.

The thought alone left a sour taste in your mouth, your body on the verge of retching. You hated that you caught them together, even if you didn’t know exactly what they were doing. Knowing what Alex shared with you only left your mind to spiral further now. And it left your heart broken for his wife. For his son. And his daughter too.

You wanted to tell yourself that they were just talking, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your gut was telling you something more had happened and your instinct wasn’t often wrong.

Alex must have seen the turmoil on your face, because he was reaching out to place a hand on your knee before you could stop it, then came his words. “She was trouble, but being the first wife, we didn’t have a lot of the conditions in place that we do now. Things weren’t as strict, gave us all a little too much freedom with what we could do with our wife.”

You tensed. He continued. “And if you asked me, we could use a few more rules to keep us all in line.”

Your brows knitted, confused, curious, “what do you mean?”

His smile grew, maybe a little too wide. He had been waiting for this moment, maybe even longer than you had been looking for your own answers. “I’ll just get to the point because I’m curious. What’s going on with you, Ross and Tony?”

“Are you asking me as the alternate captain or as my friend?” You asked him, your own words slow, cautious. It was you who was unsure of what you could say without getting yourself into trouble now.

“Your friend.”

“In that case,” you let yourself smile as you let yourself lay over his lap as you reached for the hotel phone, “we’re going to need a drink. I don’t talk about boys without a drink-”

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