The Equipment Storage Room

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Vicky

I've drunk too much.

I don't know why I let myself get this drunk, but as soon as I step out onto the balcony and the cool air hits me, I feel worse. Why, oh why, did I open that new bottle of wine?

It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm shivering, regretting not bringing that blanket from the back of the couch, but it'll be awkward if I go back in now; I've already attracted too much attention today thanks to my inability to tone down my voice.

The door creaks open, and I glance back, locking eyes with Liam. He's always been broad-shouldered and muscular, which suits his six-foot-three frame. He's worked hard to maintain the hockey player physique that the game demands of a professional.

He pulls his hoodie over his head and hands it to me without saying a word, allowing me to inhale his delicious scent. It's familiar, it's enchanting, and it's home.

He nods at the chairs against the wall, and we sit down. He moves in close, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, and I lean my head into him.

I don't know why we're doing this. We should be so angry with each other now, not snuggling up on the balcony of his twin brothers' apartment, but here we are— freezing cold and snuggled up.

"You good?" he asks. I've missed his voice. I've missed him.

It's been weird between us for a few months, and all the built-up emotion flooded out as soon as he walked in today. He wasn't due to arrive until tomorrow, by all accounts, but I didn't even know he was coming.

I wanted to shout, kick, scream, but I just hugged him instead, a hug that probably lasted too long, a hug I didn't even realise I needed until we were in the moment.

I take a deep breath before replying, "Sure."

I'm not, really. The past few months have been tough, and I don't know how I feel.

After I called our wedding off, he went on a bit of a tangent again, by all accounts, just like he did the first time we split up after college.

Instagram blew up with new photos of him and his hookups, and he utterly detached from me. Nothing less than I deserved, though, because it was all my fault.

'You're the one who called our wedding off, Vic.'

The message is burnt into my brain. He'd tried to call me, but I was too upset, too furious with myself for everything, and since then, things have been frosty.

I turn to face him. "I can't believe you're here. I thought you were done speaking to me."

Instead, he doesn't say anything, becoming very interested in his calloused hands.

"I'm sorry," I say.

Still, he says nothing, only nibbling on his thumbnail.

I can tell he's thinking now, and as soon as he drops his hand, he spits out a question which hits me hard in the chest.

"Was there someone else?" he asks, pausing momentarily before following up, "Is there someone else? Did you meet someone else, Vic?" He spins his head to look at me, his beautiful hazel eyes full of sorrow.

My heart sinks. How dare he put me in the same category as my dad. Granted, he was a serial cheat, but still.

"No. There's never been anyone else," I answer honestly.

Yeah, I slept with a few other guys when we'd split up first, after college, but I haven't not slept with anyone since Liam about six months ago.

The guys I did sleep with were all a waste of time. No one came even remotely close to Liam; I was always left wanting and frustrated, falling back on my private videos of Liam from his first year of college when I was back in Abbotsford for my last year of school.

"What was it then? I want to hear it," he asks.

I get to my feet, slightly unsteady. "I got scared."

"Scared? Scared of what?" His voice raises slightly, but he stays seated.

I gulp, ready to expose myself. "Scared of you realising I'm not worth sticking around for and having you leave me just like everyone else does." As soon as the words are out, I feel embarrassed at my admission. When my dad decided he wanted to fuck about instead of work on his marriage to my mom, my brother Johnny and I became accessories in whatever game they were playing. Johnny would be at hockey practise with Liam and his twin, Ryan. I would be forced to sit in the diner of the rink waiting for the handover from dad to mom, one massive inconvenience to my dad, who was keen to get rid of me, or so it felt.

Lee's quiet and still, probably processing what I just said. Tears stream down my cheeks. God knows what fucking state I'm in. Am I wearing waterproof? I can't remember.

"Vic," Liam swallows. He's never been good at relaying his emotions, but I keep quiet, giving him time to get his words out. "The only time I ever actually left you was for college, but that was temporary. You broke my heart."

I know for a fact that I've broken his heart twice. The first time, when he got signed to Toronto after college, I told him to go and forget about me. I told him I didn't want him anymore. This was also around the same time his mom got sick, and I still haven't gotten over that either. I felt closer to his mom than I ever did to mine. I'd watched his dad crash and burn when his mom was ill, and I didn't want the same for us.

"And I still couldn't let you go, letting you break my heart all over again when you called off our wedding," he says. "If anything, this should prove I won't fucking leave you."

He's right, but there's no such thing as a happy ending, is there?

"It didn't take you long to move on," I snap, referring to his Instagram feed. "You couldn't have been that broken hearted."

I don't think that was the right thing to say. Liam's nostrils flair, and he stands up, moving toward the balcony railing where his hands grip the bar, turning his knuckles white.

He's still momentarily before scoffing, "Yeah, right. What do you think happened, Vic?" He releases his grip and walks toward me. "I couldn't have you thinking I sat at home wallowing between games and training. It was all a fucking show."

A show? "Do you realise how that makes me feel?"

"You've broken my heart twice. Twice, Vicky." He glares at me. I can see the sadness in his eyes. "How do you think that makes me feel?"

I can't answer him. It'll turn into a battle of 'who's more brokenhearted,' and there's no way either of us will back down. Liam is too stubborn, and I'm too much of a control freak.

I half expect him to start yelling at me, telling me he doesn't want to see me, despises me, or whatever, but he doesn't. He's looking at his runners, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry--" I lean in and press my lips softly against his cheek. I expect him to push me away, but his arms clamp around me, pinning me into him.

"See, even now, I want to push you away, not let you in, but I can't. You're like a fucking drug, Vic. I can't get enough, but I can't let you do that to me again. One minute you want to get married. The next, it's off. The next, you're calling me for phone sex. It's messed up."

Yes, shit. The phone sex. He's right again. It is messed up, but he's the only person I've ever wanted. Now he's holding me close, and it's another reminder that I've missed this. The safety and security of Liam James Preston. The only person who's ever looked at me as a complete person, not an extension of Johnny and not an inconvenience as my parents did. I've been a complete fucking idiot.

"You've given me a fucking boner, you know," he scoffs. "That damn perfume of yours and your hair—" I swear he sniffs my hair, but he always has done.

My brother, Johnny, pokes his head out the apartment door. "You guys okay?" he's looking at Liam, not me.

Liam nods, and I tell him we're fine.

"Everyone's leaving now. Jen and Ryan have already gone to bed," Johnny adds. I'd forgotten we were supposed to be at a Christmas Eve-Eve party with the rest of Johnny and Ryan's hockey team.

"We'll be in soon," Liam says, his arms still wrapped around me.

Johnny slips back inside, and the door closes with a light thud.

The thought of him leaving me now is too much to bear. "Come to mine?" I ask, and he nods slowly, giving me a squeeze.

"Told you, you're like a fucking drug, baby girl."

He takes a step back and holds his hand out to me. I take it, letting him lead the way.

Liam

Vicky Koenig will be the death of me. She'll either break my heart again, which I'm sure I won't be able to stand or she'll break my heart again.

I've somehow convinced her to come skating, and seeing the look on her face, a look of pure joy as she glides across the smooth surface, I know I'm in trouble because I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be socialising with her.

She's soaring toward me, her beautiful blonde hair rippling behind her, and my Marlies toque pulled over her ears. She stops right before me, her palms resting on my chest.

"Why aren't you skating?" she asks, moving her hands to grab onto my biceps. I get a whiff of her Chanel perfume and the sweetness of her shampoo, and it makes my stomach clench with excitement; I'll be taking that toque home because it'll smell like her.

"I was watching you," I say because when Vicky is around, she's all I can focus on.

It's always been the same. Since I first laid eyes on Vicky, I've known deep down that she'll either make or break me, and right now, she's fucking breaking me.

The first time I saw her, I almost landed flat on my ass because I wasn't watching where I was skating and bumped into her brother, Johnny. She's had the same effect on me ever since, even though I should tell her I won't let her break my heart again.

"Come on," she says, pulling my arm lightly. I follow her like the lovesick fool that I am.

Vicky told me she hasn't skated since I last took her, which was too long ago for me to recount when. She had a fall a few years back and is adamant now that she'll only skate with me. This makes me feel like I'm a fucking hero or something.

I skate a lot faster than Vicky, but I slow my pace right down so she's directly next to me, our hands linked, just like when we were kids.

I watch my brother and his girlfriend, Jenna, skating like a couple of kids too, giggling and chasing each other, similar to how Vicky and I were, always horsing around.

I take a chance and reach down, putting my right arm at the back of her knees and my left arm at the small of her back. I lift her up, and she squeals and kicks, but as soon as I've slung her over my shoulder, she lets up and giggles.

"You're a doofus," she chuckles.

I do a few laps at speed this time, and Vicky squeals with joy. It's my favourite sound, and it breaks my heart that this temporary bubble we're in will soon fucking pop and leave a horrible stain in its place.

I skate over to the benches and put her down, standing over her.

"What the hell are we going to do, Vic?" I've got my serious face on. I'm not messing around this time.

"Pretend like the past however many years didn't happen?" she offers, her white teeth glinting like they're out of a commercial.

"We could," I lean into her, "but then I wouldn't know all your dirty secrets." Fuck's sake, Liam. You're not helping yourself.

The flirting has intensified today after sleeping in Vicky's bed last night. We only spooned, her body pressed against mine, but that made things a whole lot worse, in my opinion, because it was nice.

"What dirty secrets?" Vicky's eyes widen. She'll know by now that I'm horny for her. She's like a fucking drug to me, and I can't get enough, but I know we shouldn't go there.

"Do you still have the video's?" she asks, and I can feel my blood rush south.

"Maybe." Of course, I do. All of them. They're locked away, but I have them.

She stands up and wobbles on her skates a bit, and our eyes lock, a glint of something naughty in her gaze.

"Are you done, love?" Christ, that's a word I haven't heard in a long time, but it sends a ripple of something through my body. Lust? No, it's a lot more than lust.

She eyes me, biting her lip, still waiting for me to respond.

I clear my throat, "Sure."

She sits back down, and I flop next to her, our knees touching, and then she reaches out and puts her manicured hand on my leg. Fuck.

She knows what she's doing as her hand runs up and down my quad. She leans her head in, her breath catching directly on that golden spot on my neck; she wants me as much as I want her.

"Take your skates off and follow me," she says, undoing her laces quickly. She works in silence like she's in a race with herself, and I make headway with mine, pulling them off and reaching for my shoes underneath the bench.

I'm too weak to resist, even though I know it's a terrible idea and I should be putting an end to all the heartbreak, but I want her too. I don't think I'll ever stop.

We put our shoes on and abandon the skates.

Vicky pulls me, heading to the tunnels unfamiliar to me. Still, she clearly knows where she's going as she rounds the corner, heading to the end of the last corridor we come to.

She pushes open the door labelled 'Equipment Storage' and pulls me inside, the only light in the room is from an emergency sign overhead, but it's enough for her to see what she's doing as she grabs an equipment box and push it against the door.

Her mouth is on mine, and her hand reaches for my belt buckle. My cock is hard already, and she knows it. It doesn't take her long to pull the zip down, pop the button and slide her hand into my boxers.

"I've missed you," she breathes, touching my neck with her lips.

She's doing all the right things; I'll give her that. She hasn't forgotten. Nor have I.

She tugs at my jeans, pulls them down and then follows with my boxers. Her hands grips my shaft, and the long strokes drive me crazy with want.

"You gonna be a good girl and get your panties off for me?" I whisper. A voice in the back of my mind tells me this is a bad idea, but the thought of missing out, and with how delicious she smells— I can't stop myself.

She's quick. She loses the hat, slips her shoes off and wriggles out of her leggings, her creamy skin making my mouth water. Her panties come off next, and she looks deep into my eyes, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip again.

"You're so hard for me," she says, leaning in and kissing my jaw, peppering her way down to my neck.

"I'm always fucking hard for you, Vic." It's true. She doesn't need to work to get me in the mood. I'm impatient, though. Desperate for her. "Panties. Now." I rasp.

She hands them over to me, and I bring them to my nose. Fuck. She's intoxicating.

She snatches them away from me and wraps them around my cock, big strokes but painfully slow, all while she finds that sweet spot on my neck, knowing exactly how to kiss me and how much I can take.

I can't take it. I'm already on the edge of coming in her hand, probably all over her panties, but I don't think that's where she wants it.

"You look fucking beautiful with your hand wrapped around my dick, babe," I pant, encouraging her.

She beams at me, her hand working quicker, and she leans in so I can feel her breath on my cheek.

"Where do you want to come, love?" Her lips trail over my throat, and I clench my whole body to stop myself from coming.

Everywhere is the honest answer. I want to claim her.

I think it over briefly, my immediate choices at the forefront of my mind. Her face? No, not right now. Over her panties? Another good choice, but I make my mind up quickly.

"Get on your knees and open your mouth," I say. She drops in front of me, the tip of her tongue poking out and running under my shaft for a beat before she leans back and looks up at me, eyes wide with expectation.

I take my cock in my fist and pump for my release. A groan escapes me. It doesn't take me long to coat her tongue. Mine.

"You're so good at taking my load, babe. You look so fucking sexy." She looks incredible; I don't have enough words.

I watch her tongue disappear back into her mouth, and she swallows before showing me a clean display.

"Good girl," I breathe, pulling her to her feet and bringing her face to mine; tasting the remnants of my come on her lips drives me crazy.

I pull my zip-up off and place it on the storage case, gently pushing Vicky to sit on top.

She knows what to do, parting her legs for me, letting me kiss my way along the smooth skin of the thighs.

She's fucking soaking; I can see her glistening, despite the poor lighting. A few days past a fresh wax but I never care, the landing strip she leaves is perfect, and her pussy is flawless.

My cock is hard again, but I give it a swift ignore, burying my face in Vicky's pussy instead.

My beard scratches her, but she yelps and grabs my head, pushing me in closer. I know exactly how much pressure to apply and that she likes it just above her clit.

I slip a finger into her wetness, the walls of her pussy tight around my finger.

I always forget how good she tastes. It's like I've been starved, and she's offering respite. I lap at her, sucking gently and teasing the spot just above, knowing it won't take her long.

Her breathing is steady, and her moans are erotic like she's saved them all up for me.

"I'm close," she breathes, and I curl my finger upwards, finding her sweet spot.

Her thighs clamp around my head as she comes, her breathing jagged, her fingers clutching at my hair.

It takes her a while to let me go, relaxing her thighs and releasing her grip.

"You did really good, babe," I say, moving toward her face so I can kiss her.

She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me close, kissing me like it's our last.

The door behind her rattles and then vibrates as someone bangs it on the other side.

"Lee, are you in there?"

Fuck. It's my brother.

Vicky's eyes meet mine and we scramble to get ourselves decent, only shouting back when he calls through the door again.

Vicky gets her shoes on, moves the equipment box out of the way, and pulls the door handle tentatively.

"Oh, hey, Vicky," Jen smirks, her eyes bouncing between us.

Fuck. I bet my beard is still glistening with Vicky all over my face.

Vicky pulls the toque back on, "Don't you dare say anything, Jenna!"

There's silence for a moment while everyone waits for someone else to say something. Anything.

Ryan finally gives in; thank fuck. "We're heading out. We spent ages looking for you," I know he's trying not to laugh; his cheeks are puffed out.

My post-orgasm fog is starting to clear, and there's a knot of dread at the pit of my stomach. What the fuck are we doing? Heading back to heartbreak hotel?

Vicky squeezes through the gap in the door, and I follow, heading back toward the ice.

"We've got too much to do, Vic. Are you okay with helping us carry things back to the guy's place?" Jen turns and asks me.

Jen, Vicky, and Becca are prepping for Christmas lunch tomorrow, and Jen is taking it seriously. From what I've heard, Johnny is on turkey duty and has made it his job.

I nod and give Ryan a look. He knows what to do, thank fuck.

"Come and take a look at the dressing room, bro," he says, jerking his head toward the door up ahead. "You go ahead, ladies. We'll catch you up."

As soon as we're in through the door and the coast is clear, Ryan rounds on me.

"Did you fuck Vicky in the Equipment Store?" he snarls.

"Not exactly—"

"Fuck, Lee. Does she know what your plan is?"

"Not exactly—"

"I thought you were going to talk to her? You said earlier that you were going to talk to her," Ryan rages. I really don't know why he's getting so bent out of shape.

I sit down at Ryan's cubby and lean back, contemplating all my life choices up until now.