Back for more? Sorry for the delay. Every time I see the light at the end of the tunnel at work, all hell breaks loose again. But things are SO much better now.

Big thanks to The Fictionators for sending so many of you this way last week. Truly, truly appreciate it!

Thanks to my dirtybird beta who managed to squeeze working on this chapter in between two sick kiddos. And to lisamichele17 for pre-reading. I so wish I could share the links to the images she sends me with her comments. It's like the best picture book ever when she's done with it. Plus she has a weird direct link into my brain. It's almost scary. In this chapter she pointed out something that reminded her of Mario Lemieux and I flipped. My description had been adapted from a play I got to see him make when he came out of retirement. Freaky.

Chapter 3

Arms wrapped around me from behind as lips made a path up my neck to my jaw.

"Did I do okay?" he asked.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd enjoyed celebrating my birthday. I'd meant it at the time when I'd told Alice that I preferred to treat it as any other day, but looking around Edward's yard I was so glad no one listened to me.

"Better than okay. Perfect."

I turned my head and stretched to kiss him as his arms tightened the hug. A scream of protest drew our attention to the pool where Emmett had kneeled down at the edge to scoop water by the handful in order to splash at an unsuspecting Alice. I smiled and leaned back into Edward's body, his chin resting on my shoulder as we watched the display before us. Jasper was trying to hold back a laugh. Rosalie was telling Emmett not to underestimate Alice and while Alice strode with purposeful steps toward Emmett, clearly intending to push him into the water. And all the while Edward's lips teased kisses on my neck at unpredictable intervals making me anxious for time alone.

"Let's go sit," Edward said, unwrapping his arms from around me and taking my hand to lead me to an open seat near everyone else.

It had been an incredible day; a low-key affair with just the six of us at Edward's house. I hadn't been allowed to lift a finger while everyone cooked and grilled. We sat outside in the shade, drinking, eating, talking and laughing until the sun went down. As night began to fall, we moved further out into the yard by the pool to enjoy the view.

His yard had been perfectly designed for entertaining by the previous owners so we often took advantage of it. I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate. As everyone found their own seats around us, I took some time to memorize the moment. I wasn't sure when we'd be able to get together like this again. For the next couple of weeks I was scheduled to spend more time on the road than off, making me miss all of the home pre-season games. Edward and I would hardly see each other before the first game of the season and I was dreading the separation.

I knew this was only the beginning.

Refusing to dwell, I focused on enjoying the night. Edward had the group in stitches, recalling some of the locker room pranks he'd played or endured over the years.

"A couple years ago we were in the middle of a long ass road trip. There were a couple new guys just pulled up from the minors, first time playing in the NHL. Where were we? I can't even remember what city we were in . . . but when we travel, everyone goes out to dinner together. It's not unusual for some of the guys to splinter off and do their own thing instead, so while everyone else was at this steakhouse, a few of us stayed behind. We got a housekeeper to let us into their room. We took everything out of their suitcases. Little things—shampoo, deodorant, chargers—we hid in random places around the room, but the clothes? Those we scattered all over that floor of the hotel. Some things were hanging from the other rooms' doorknobs, tossed around on the ground in the hall. We made a huge mess right by the elevators so they'd see it as soon as the doors opened."

"What'd they do?"

"What about the other people on the floor?"

"Aw, man, I'd been so pissed."

We were all speaking over each other, laughing as Edward gestured widely, leaning forward in his seat, as he told the story.

"I think the whole floor was just our team and staff. I never saw anyone else, at least. The two guys didn't do anything, really. Laughed, shook their heads, and went to track down all their shit. It's kind of expected when you come into a new team. I think a good prank is the standard welcome."

"How'd they get you when you came here?" Jasper asked.

Edward leaned back in the oversized chair. "It was a home game—just a few games in. Went to put my skates on and there were no laces. Searched everywhere and couldn't find them. No one would tell me where they were. They just sat around snickering while I tore everything apart. I ended up finding them stuffed into one of my gloves, but when I pulled them out, someone had knotted them together. Like, multiple knots running the entire length of the laces. Took me forever to get those damn things apart and I missed half of the warm up."

"Weren't there any extra laces around?" I asked, laughing. From the expression on his face he was reliving his frustration.

He snorted. "Those went missing too, and conveniently nobody—not even the equipment manager—had any spares."

As much as I hated being the one to leave, I soon found out that being the one left behind was so much worse. For months I'd been the one leaving town. Edward's only trips over the summer just happened to coincide with some of my work trips. I hadn't had to experience seeing him off and then trying to figure out how to spend my time at home. It was new, and strange, and I didn't like it one bit.

But, still, in the grand scheme of things, it was a small price to pay to be with him.

"You need to figure something out or my waistline's gonna be pissed at you," Alice said through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.

I looked at the countertop covered in cooling cookies. "I know. It's kind of excessive, huh?"

Alice moaned as she took another bite.

She'd come over to hang out and we'd been talking about the adjustment I was making—or still struggling with—now that Edward's schedule had reared its head. I couldn't remember how I spent my free time before him, and I often found myself trying to stay busy, keep moving. More often than not, this manifested in baking marathons.

"Lil bit," she said, chomping into another cookie. After a momentary pause, her expression softened. "It'll get better. Once you guys get used to it, figure out a routine."

I sighed as I sat down beside her. "I know. It just sucks." I shrugged.

"But think of all the reunion sex you get to have."

I barked out a laugh that devolved into a fit of giggles.

"No, seriously! Reunion sex is right up there with make up sex. You get to have it all the time. I have to pick a fight with Jasper over dirty socks if I want it that good."

I couldn't respond, just continued to laugh and shake my head.

Alice mumbled, "You think I'm kidding. Lucky bitch."

"You really know how to put things in perspective," I said, then snagged a cookie for myself.

"So when does he come back? Right after the game tonight or will they fly back tomorrow?"

"They're flying out tonight so he'll be home late. Middle of the night sometime."

Alice made a face. "That has to be so exhausting. To be on the road for a week, fly home, and only get a day off to rest? I'd need a week, at least." There was a short pause before Alice laughed and said, "I can't believe you still haven't seen him play."

"I've seen him play before," I said.

"No, I know, I mean you haven't seen him play since all of this." She waved a hand in the air. "Not since the two of you got together. Considering how you got together, it's kind of funny."

The team's schedule had them opening the season with a road trip and the handful of preseason home games happened to fall when I was travelling so I'd had to miss them.

"Yeah, but I don't have to be on the road for another few weeks so I'll get to make up for that."

"Is it gonna be weird?" she asked.

"A little, I think. Not in a bad way . . . but it'll be different."

"The games we went to, it was a little strange. It's easy to forget who he is . . . he's just this guy I know, a good friend, the love of my best friend's life. Then you see him out there and it's like, 'oh yeah!'"

I smiled at her words.

"It changes the perspective a little bit. We've been going to these games for how many years? But there was a clear delineation between the team and the fans . . . and now that line is blurred because instead of rooting for the home team to win, you're supporting a friend, you want to see them succeed for him."

"Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing when I watch the games on tv."

"If it's weird for me, it's gonna be so weird for you," she said with a laugh.

I was quieter than normal on the ride to the arena. As usual, the five of us piled into Emmett's SUV for the nearly forty minute trip from Scottsdale. The drive was typically passed with a comprehensive breakdown on the team's current state of play, the opposing teams strengths and weaknesses, and then whatever random conversations popped up to fill the empty spaces. And this trip was no different except for the fact that I was mostly silent.

I had no idea why I was nervous, but I was.

Once inside the arena, we went in search of food and drink—or, in my case, just drink. My stomach was too full of butterflies to consider eating anything.

I had to be extra careful walking down the steps to our seats. The teams were already warming up so my attention kept getting drawn to the ice, looking for Edward. I found him, over on the opposite side, stretching.

Plopping down in my seat, I took a long drink from my straw and kept my eyes on him as he got down on all fours and let his knees slide further and further apart, stretching the muscles in his inner thighs.

"Damn. That flexibility must come in handy." I cracked up laughing at Rosalie's outburst. Her kind of humor was always made in the delivery. It was just what I needed to get over whatever it was that was making me a ball of nerves and just enjoy the game.

The teams headed back to their respective locker rooms and re-emerged a short while later. I couldn't help the way my eyes found Edward wherever he was. For the first half of the period it felt like that was all I did, look for him, but eventually I was wrapped up in the game. A few hard hits, a couple close calls at the goal line, and one big, sweeping play that resulted in us taking an early lead had effectively nixed my strange mood.

I was back to my normal self—jumping up to cheer, jeer, and yell with the rest of the enthusiastic crowd.

Back at my place, the butterflies had returned, this time due to anticipation. I was still riding such a high from the first game of the season and couldn't wait to see Edward. I didn't know how long it would take him afterward, so my attention piqued with every passing car until it was obvious that it wasn't pulling into my driveway.

But when one finally did . . .

I hopped up from my seat and debated back and forth whether to rush out and jump into his arms the second he was out of the car or if I should stay inside and play it cool, act like I was reading, or watching a movie, maybe tooling around in the kitchen.

The door opened and I was rooted to the spot. He stood there in a perfectly fitted suit and tie, damp hair from a shower, and half-smile full of intention.

Oh god, the suit.

"C'mere," he said, reaching out for my hand. When I was close enough, he pulled me into his arms for a toe-curling kiss.

My heart fluttered at the feel of his tongue, and my fingers tangled in his hair to hold him in place, not wanting it to end.

He walked me backwards until my heels hit the bottom step. Before I could blink, he'd lifted me up to carry me upstairs. There were no questions as to where this was headed.

I bounced on the mattress where he'd dropped me before he took a few steps back, slowly undoing his tie. His eyes never left mine, and I couldn't look away. I suddenly knew what it was like to be the snake being charmed. The tie dropped to the ground where he stood, the suit jacket tossed in the general direction of the chair. He worked on the buttons at his sleeve. Then he untucked his shirt. He moved with teasingly slow calculation, smirking all the while at the effect he had on me, evident by the trembling of my body.

Piece by piece, clothing disappeared—first his, then mine—until we were a sweaty tangle of limbs. He moved with precision, bringing me to the brink and then pulling back until I was desperate for release. While every time with him had been good, better than good, this time was so different. There was such raw need and power, the built up adrenaline from the game taking control. If this was what I had to look forward to after every game, I'd be a very happy girl.

Later, after we'd exhausted ourselves and finally caught our breaths, we curled up together in the dark.

"Mmm, much better way to burn off the energy than going out for drinks after the game," he said, one hand playing with my hair.

"I agree." I said. My voice came out scratchier than I expected.

"So, what'd you think?" he asked, and by the tone I knew he was talking about the game and not our more recent activities . . . although I'd rate those pretty highly, too.

"It was such a good game. You guys played so well it seems hard to believe you're just getting back into the swing of things. And you! That second goal . . . you came from out of nowhere to set that up. I still can't figure out how it happened."

He laughed. "Eh, I was just there."

He was too cute like this. I could tell it was important to him to know what I thought, for him to have my approval, but he was so modest that he couldn't take compliments.

"No, really. Everyone, I mean everyone, thought the puck was going in one direction and then somehow it ends up on your stick in the other direction. It was such a perfect set up. Nobody in that place had any idea that it had gone in the goal. They were all still looking up ice for it."

He hadn't scored any goals, but he'd had two assists including that one. One of the things I'd always loved about him as a player was that, watching him, it was obvious that he was a team player. If he saw another guy had a better shot, he didn't hesitate to pass it rather than make an attempt just to boost his own stats.

In this particular case, the confusion bought him time where he could've snuck right up to the goal and taken a shot, but one of his teammates was already in place. So, rather than take the risk that the defense would catch on and double-back, he went for the sure thing and made the pass.

"I was just lucky," he said, brushing it off again, but I could hear the pride in his voice.

"Lucky that you're good at what you do," I said.

He rolled to face me, his left hand caressing my side. "Are you tired?"

"A little." I let my voice trail off in a way that left my options open.

Pushing his hips into mine, he whispered, "Too tired for more?"

I groaned and pushed back. "Never too tired for more."

"Good."

At some point, many hours later, when the sky was just beginning to lighten, I woke up to the feel of lips on my bare skin. First at my shoulder, then my neck, before working up my jaw and stopping at my ear.

I opened my eyes just a crack, so attuned to him that I could hear his breaths change as he hesitated to speak, the occasional hitch telling me that he had something to say but either wasn't ready or didn't know how to say it.

"I have a secret," he whispered, then pulled back to look me in the eyes. I didn't say anything, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to continue. A soft smile appeared before he leaned back in for a few more kisses to my jaw before whispering again. "I'm in love with you."