Ami giggled. "We make a good team."
I sighed with a satisfied hum. "That we do."
We had only been sitting on the couch all but twenty minutes when Ami giggled beside me, looking over at me. "Do you have some kind of team ritual you do to get rid of this?" she asked, running her fingers over my jaw which was covered in a thick beard from the playoffs. I could grow one hell of a beard when I needed to.
"No ritual." I chuckled, pulling her closer so I could tickle her neck with it a few more times. "I just usually shave it off some."
"Can I watch?"
"You want to watch me shave?" I asked, amused and curious as to why she would want to do that.
"Yeah, why not?"
I shrugged and stood. "All right, come on." I motioned with a nod to the bathroom. Ami followed.
With her sitting on the counter in front of me, I reached my hands behind my head, grabbing the neck of my shirt, and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the floor.
Ami's eyes went to my chest and then to my stomach.
My lips twisted into a smirk, knowing she was probably not far from the thoughts that I was having since she was wearing my jersey and not a goddamn thing else.
She watched as I pulled out the clippers I used. I never did a complete shave. I always liked to have a little scruff. When my arm lifted, Ami caught the tattoo on my ribs that I knew she'd been eyeing for a while. Though she never asked, I knew she was curious as to why I had it and one on my shoulder. I had a few more on my forearms, but she'd gotten to know those ones pretty well over the months.
"What does it mean?" she asked, her fingers ghosting over the black markings, tracing over them with the lightest touch. It had no meaning. It was a symbol of some sort, but I couldn't tell you for the life of me what the hell it meant. I was drunk when I got it.
"Nothing that I know of," I teased, remembering that night I started out in Pittsburgh and woke up in Orlando.
"Why'd you get it?" Starry eyes found mine.
"I was drunk and fifteen and really stupid. Sometimes, I don't always think," I teased playfully, rolling my eyes. "I have my moments of weakness." My hands moved to her thighs, trailing up them ever so lightly. She shivered, her legs wrapping around mine. She bumped the clippers beside her when she did so, sending them into the sink.
"Hmm…you always seem so level headed to me."
"Nope..." My lips found hers. "Not always."
I did have another tattoo, well a few. Nothing really meaningful. One tattoo was of a pair of hockey gloves and stick on my shoulder, surrounded by the logo of the team my dad played for when my mom got pregnant with me. That was meaningful for me because he gave up everything for me.
I picked up the clippers, and Ami reached for them. I glanced at her in confusion. "What are you doing?"
"Mind if I try?"
"Are you serious?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "I don't know, you might slip and cut my hair. Leo did."
"Why the fuck would you have let Leo shave your beard?"
"We were drunk. Shit happens when you're drunk with a group of hockey players."
"Well..." Ami reached for the clippers again. "I'll be careful."
"I don't know. I saw your stick skills."
"What? Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest; a pouty look came over her.
"Here." I handed her the clippers.
She refused to take them. "No. I don't want to anymore."
"Ami." I lowered my voice and my head, trying to catch her eyes, placing my hands back on her thighs. I spread them wider, stepping closer. "Please? I trust you," I whispered. I held the clippers in my hand against her thigh, begging her to believe me.
What started out as playful and teasing was suddenly very intimate when those starry blues found mine. With my chin raised, her hands on my jaw angling it the direction needed, she brought the clippers to my face and made the first swipe. Intently focused on her, I watched carefully, feeling the love penetrating from every part of her.
My eyes drifted closed, reminded of how different this year had been from the last time I shaved this beard. Never did I think it would have gone this way.
By the time she made the last pass over my jaw, my heart was pounding from the memories over the year, including the ones I tried to forget.
When she finished, she traced her fingers along my jaw, removing the tiny hairs that remained. I hummed softly at the touch, leaning into her palm before pressing a lingering kiss there.
When her eyes found mine, they were dark with passion. I didn't have to wait long before she leaned forward, hungrily possessing my mouth.
I knew, without a doubt, this, Ami, being with her, would forever be the best goal I'd ever snagged.
Celly – A celebration when a goal is scored.