Hendrix: A Pittsburgh Titans Novel

Stevie leans against the door, smiling at me in a way that has me wanting to pounce on her. Her dad just left after a nice Christmas Eve meal. It was simple—ham, au gratin potatoes, and a green bean casserole that I passed on because I fucking hate green beans.

Dessert more than made up for it as Stevie made a German chocolate cake, done solely for my benefit because she knows it’s my favorite. I mentioned in passing during our first date, and she remembered. It was delicious, and my belly is full.

So is my heart.

Being able to spend Christmas Eve with her is special in a way that even I don’t fully understand. My family was gracious when I told them I wouldn’t be in tonight, but they weren’t surprised. I’ve been keeping them in the Stevie loop, and they’re all coming to a game in mid-January so they can meet her.

“I think it’s safe to say your present to my dad was a hit,” Stevie murmurs as she pushes off the door.

“Yeah… his grunt and chin lift hit me right here,” I say, thumping my chest with my fist.

Stevie bursts out laughing because he did a little more than that. It wasn’t effusive, but he was shocked, and when he said, “Thank you,” I could tell he truly meant it.

But then he said, “Don’t expect anything from me. I don’t give presents to anyone except Stevie.”

“Duly noted,” I replied.

I swoop in on her, wrap my arms around her waist, and ask, “Can we exchange our gifts now?”

“We were supposed to get gifts for each other?”

I lean in for a hard kiss. “Smart-ass. You saw me put one under the tree for you when I got here.”

“Doesn’t mean I got you one,” she replies tartly.

“I already snooped. There’s something under the tree with my name on it.” I release my hold and push her toward the kitchen. “Get the eggnog. I’ll get the bourbon.”

We mix drinks and Stevie sprinkles nutmeg on top. She puts on classic Christmas music via her Wi-Fi speakers, and Burl Ives sings about a holly, jolly Christmas. Stevie turns off the two lamps in the living room so that the only light is from the Christmas tree.

“Sit,” I order her as I place my drink on the coffee table. “I’ll get the presents.”

By the time I’ve turned back to her, she’s curled up on the end of the couch closest to the tree. She looks magical sitting in the glow of the multicolored lights. Her hair is pulled back except for a few locks that have fallen free, and it makes her look fresh and young. Tonight, Stevie’s dressed in green leggings printed with tiny candy canes and an off-the-shoulder white sweater. With a pair of white fuzzy socks on her feet, she looks so comfortable, like she might be ready to read a book or perhaps join me in a deep discussion.

She looks fuckable, too, but that’s actually not at the top of my agenda right now. I just want to be in this Christmas space with her.

I pull out the two presents. The one to me is a box wrapped in red foil paper, cross-tied with a satin bow. It’s about nine inches long and about four inches wide and light as a feather.

The tag says To Hendrix, From Stevie.

The other gift is mine to her, and I suck at wrapping so she gets a bag with a Christmas design on it and tape holding the top closed.

I give it to her with a sheepish smile. “Sorry my present isn’t as pretty as yours.”

“That’s definitely not why I’m screwing you, Hendrix,” she says with a wink.

I bust out laughing and lower myself right beside her on the couch, turning the red box over in my hands. I shake it but hear nothing.

Setting it on my lap, I nod toward her gift bag. “You first.”

“Okay,” she says gleefully and rips into the tape. I watch her expression as she pulls out two velvet jewelry boxes.

I tap the slightly smaller box. “Open that one first.”

“Is it the best?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“It’s the most expensive,” I assure her.

“You don’t have to spend—”

I lean over and kiss her to shut her up. “I’ll buy you whatever the fuck I want, so zip it, woman.”

Stevie gives me a chastising look but flips open the box. She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Hendrix… those are… magnificent.”

They really are. Diamond stud earrings, a little more than a carat each.

Her eyes drift from the box to me, her hand going to my cheek. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you is sufficient.”

She leans over and kisses me softly. “Thank you,” she breathes into my mouth. “You treat me far too good.”

I take the box from her and nod to the other. “Open that one. It’s the best.”

While the diamonds are gorgeous and clearly indicate I’m serious about her, they don’t have the personal touch I wanted.

Stevie lifts the lid, and her face splits in a wide grin. “Oh my God! I love it,” she exclaims, pulling from the velvet a new charm to wear on the necklace I gave her with the nine-ball pendant.

She holds it up to examine—it’s a small hockey puck, no bigger in diameter than a dime, and a friend of a friend painted the Titans’ logo on it. “To wear with your nine ball.”

“Here… hold it,” she says as she thrusts the charm at me. She reaches back and unlatches the necklace that I’ve never seen her without since the day I gave it to her.

I hand the charm back, and she threads the silver links through the loop. When she puts it back on, she lifts it out to see the nine ball and puck together.

“It’s us,” she murmurs. Her eyes lift to mine, shining with something I can’t quite name, but it seems like something big has shifted between us. “I love it so much.”

“Maybe that can be our nicknames, the way you and your dad are Peas and Carrots. We’ll be Nine Ball and Puck.”

Stevie laughs and then picks up the present on my lap, pushing it into my hand. “Open yours,” she says.

Smiling, I start to pull at the ribbon.

“It’s not expensive or anything,” she advises.

My gaze lifts, and I cock an eyebrow at her. “Yeah… well aware that you don’t make the type of money I do. Don’t need to point it out.”

“Sorry,” she mutters with a lopsided grin. “It’s just… those earrings.”

Chuckling, I turn my attention back to the box. Doesn’t feel like there’s anything in it at all.

More than intrigued, I give up trying to savor the experience and rip into the paper. Unveiled is a white box and when I lift the lid, I frown at the triple-folded paper inside.

I lift my head, eyebrows drawn inward as I look at Stevie. “You got me a piece of paper.”

Her eyes twinkle with amusement, and her lips curve upward. “Not just any piece of paper.” She nods back down at it.

Removing it from the box, I unfold it and at first only see a bunch of words written in neat cursive in blue ink. But then I see my name among the words, see the date at the top—December 2—and I realize it’s her journal entry after our very first date.

I’ve seen her journal sitting in various places around her house. She leaves it where she’s done her writing, and I’ve never once touched it. I’ve teased her plenty about reading it, but teasing is all it’s been.

That journal is more than just her keeping her thoughts and memorializing good and bad times. It’s an accounting of her life. We all have our deepest, innermost thoughts, all of which are entitled to privacy.

But here in my hand… it’s her private thoughts after our first date—written then without any intention of ever showing another human being—and I realize what a gift this is.

I’m getting Stevie laid bare before me.

My eyes bore into hers. “You sure?”

Stevie snuggles into the corner of the couch, pulling her legs in tighter. She rests her chin in her palm and smiles. “I’m sure.”

I tune her out and concentrate on what she had to say.

December 2: I just had the most incredible date with a guy who is… well, he’s not real. He just can’t be. No man on this earth can be as hot as he is and not be completely unaware of it. Hendrix didn’t see the women looking at him as we walked through the restaurant or the way the waitress kept flirting. He didn’t see it because he was looking at me. Absolutely focused on me. It was our first date. He had no idea if I was even interesting. And he sure as hell didn’t know if I was going to put out—

My head jerks up, and I grin at her. “Oh, you totally would have put out if your dad hadn’t been there.”

She smiles, and my attention goes back to the journal entry.

—but when he committed to taking me out on a date, he committed to me. A woman he knew nothing about, but from the start, he was in it 100%. He’ll never know what that means to me. I’m not talking about as a woman, because yes, it’s nice he focused on me and ignored the legions of adoring women.

I can’t help but snort. She’s embellishing, but I understand what she’s saying.

I learned things about him tonight that will have me pining to see where this goes. Hendrix does nothing in half measures. When he wants something, he goes for it. He understands the value of perseverance in the face of the unknown with the hope of good things on the other side. It’s that optimism that charmed me. That look in his eyes—candlelight flickering in his irises over dinner—ensnared me. I’ve known this man for one day, and my secret is that I’ve already started falling so hard for him that I think I’ll be destroyed if this doesn’t go the distance. He’s the first man I’ve ever met who I believe I could give my entire heart to. Hendrix is a man built for a woman to love for eternity.

Her words end, and my entire body buzzes with awareness. Stevie sits so still, her knee touching my thigh as my eyes run back through the last two lines.

He’s the first man I’ve ever met who I believe I could give my entire heart to. Hendrix is a man built for a woman to love for eternity.

Ever so slowly, my eyes slide from the journal page to Stevie who is watching me intently.

“You knew,” I say, dumbfounded that she could see so far into the future, especially after she’d been so difficult to agree to go out with me.

She nods. “Yeah… I knew after that first dinner.”

I toss the journal page onto the table and pull Stevie into my lap. Her arms go around my neck, and mine loop around her waist to hold her snug to me. “I thought it took a while for me to grow on you.”

Her laugh is gentle and tinkles with amusement. “Well, it was a long dinner. I think we were there for a little over two hours.”

“And has it all come to fruition?” I ask tentatively.

“Yeah,” she whispers, leaning her face closer. “You’re an incredibly easy person to love, Hendrix. It all played out just how I thought it would.”

Christ… I can’t even describe the sensations warring within my body over hearing that. The elation is so intense, I feel like my heart is about to explode out of my chest. At the same time, a blanket of peace settles over me, like something has “clicked” into place. Like perhaps something in my life was missing, and now that hole has been filled.

My hands go to Stevie’s face, and I stare her in the eye. “Okay… this is a big deal. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Her hands circle my wrists. “You won’t.”

I kiss her, slow and deep, savoring the taste of her. When I open my eyes, I find hers swimming with stormy emotion. “I love you, Stevie. You’re my first, and you’ll be my last.”

Her forehead tips forward and rests against mine. “You’re my first too. My only.”

I turn my head, bring my mouth to hers. While exchanging these words makes my chest swell with the most indescribable feeling, something else is swelling now, and the need to be inside her is almost panic-inducing.

Like if I don’t join with her right this very moment, the words we just exchanged won’t be sealed.

I slide a hand up the back of her sweater, palming the soft skin of her back. Pulling from the depth of the kiss so my lips hover against hers, I suggest, “How about you put those diamond earrings on and take off all your clothes so I can see them sparkle while I fuck you?”

I feel the smile on her mouth against mine, and she laughs. “Really?”

“I never joke about fucking you,” I say seriously and lift her from the couch to head toward her bedroom.

“The earrings,” she says, reaching an arm out.

“Fuck the earrings. I’ll have you model them for me next round.”

Stevie giggles, and it’s music to my ears. With Dolly Parton singing “Winter Wonderland” in the background, I make love to Stevie. It’s not making love just because we said the words. Both of us already felt it, but there’s a languid quality to it, no rush to orgasm.

Without doubt, this feels more profound, a richer experience. I thrust into her slowly, and she undulates beneath my body.

Supporting myself on one elbow, I take her hand and entwine my fingers with hers. Pressing our hands into the mattress above her head, I bend down to rub my nose along hers.

When I lift my head, I find Stevie staring at me with such ferocity, it actually sparks the beginning of my orgasm. I rock into her, grinding my pelvis downward, and Stevie’s legs circle my hips.

I can tell by her hitched breathing that she’s on the edge, and her eyes flutter closed.

“Hey… Nine Ball,” I growl as I press very deep into her. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

They pop open, bleary with passion, and I can tell she’s lost. With me, but not with me.

The slow boil intensifies as we stare at each other.

“Hendrix,” she whispers, and her body stiffens for a moment before she cries out. “Oh, fuck… I’m coming.”

Jesus, I hadn’t realized how close I actually was, but those words are all my body needs and I let go, driving in deep. I gather her close, pump my hips against her, and ride the wave of euphoria until we’re both depleted.

I collapse onto Stevie’s body, my pulse hammering so hard I feel like I’ve run a marathon, despite that being about the slowest, most languid fuck of my life. That tells me most of the strain to my heart wasn’t physical but emotional.

Stevie turns and brushes her lips against my jaw, and her fingers skim through my hair. “You alive?”

“Barely.”

“That was intense,” she murmurs.

“Yeah.” I roll off her to my back and then pull her onto my chest.

She snuggles in and sighs with contentment. “Best Christmas ever,” she says sleepily.

I tighten my hold on her. “Agreed. Best Christmas ever.”

I know I won’t forget it for as long as I live.

You never forget the first time you fall in love.