The game thing might be trickier, but I would make it work somehow. I wasn’t eager to live through a repeat of what Luke did, either.
Chase turned onto the freeway entrance ramp. After shoulder-checking, he merged into the middle lane. I closed my eyes, snuggling against a black hoodie that I’d snagged from the back seat and folded into a makeshift pillow. It smelled like him. He probably wasn’t getting it back. Sorry, Carter.
A few more seconds of silence passed, then he sucked in a sharp inhale. “I’m sorry, I can’t get past this. Why the hell didn’t you call me? What if he’d hurt you?”
“A few reasons,” I said, eyes still closed.
“Like…”
“I guess part of me feels like it’s my fault.”
My fault for dating Luke in the first place; my fault for not handling him correctly and provoking him; my fault for going to the hockey game alone.
“James.” His voice softened. “That’s not even a little true.”
“How is it not?”
“You’re not responsible for anything that fucker does.”
It didn’t feel that way.
“That and I don’t want you to get yourself into trouble,” I said.
“One of these days I’m going to have to make good on my threats to him or they won’t mean anything.”
“Can you limit beating him to when you’re on the ice so you don’t go to jail?”
“Trust me when I say that I am trying very, very hard to do that. Counting down the days until I can demolish him,” he said. “But if he pulls something like that car thing again, he’s leaving in a body bag.”
“Chase.” I groaned.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I can afford a top-notch lawyer. Call it self-defense or something, whatever.”
He paused. “Or maybe I should hire a hit man. It would be money well spent.”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious.
OceanofPDF.com
CHASE
Bailey dozed off after she spilled the ugly truth, which gave me fifteen minutes to breathe deeply and cool down before we got home.
Or at least to shift into quietly planning Morrison’s dismemberment while attempting to behave like a normal human, outwardly speaking.
I wasn’t upset with her—especially after she told me she felt like it was her fault. That admission had guilt smashing me in the face like a slapshot.
I hated him that much more for making her think that.
And I really fucking hated him for scaring her.
Tomorrow was supposed to be my rest day, and now Morrison had fucked that up too, because I had serious amounts of aggression to work out on the ice or in the gym. Maybe both.
Or I could find his address and take it out on the source…
Also planned to consult Ward and Ty about orchestrating the most damaging on-ice hit possible that wouldn’t land me a suspension or expulsion from the league. Still needed to mull that one over. Maybe get out the whiteboard and draw up some diagrams evaluating potential plans of action, optimizing speed, and leveraging angles. Watch some videos online, like compilations of the NHL’s most devastating hits. You know, research that shit and really get it right.
I pulled into the visitor parking for Bailey’s apartment building and shifted into park. As I did, the truck lurched slightly, causing her to stir. Bailey let out a tiny, adorable groan and pushed herself upright, stretching sleepily.
“Sorry,” I said quietly. “We’re home.”
She unbuckled her seat belt and turned to me, still bleary-eyed with sleep. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I had to put the Morrison thing on ice for the time being. I wouldn’t let that creep ruin my night with her.
We headed upstairs to change and get ready for bed in a pattern that was nearly automatic by now. I knew everything down to the color of her toothbrush. She even had her own drawer at my place. I didn’t recognize myself, but that was a good thing.
Climbing under the covers, I threw an arm around Bailey, and she nestled against me with a hand splayed on my stomach. She was wearing one of my shirts; she had a rotation of them now, and it was, as always, fucking adorable. And her blond hair smelled faintly of her fruity shampoo, which, oddly enough, was a turn-on for me. Probably because it brought about visions of her naked and wrapped around me while I pulled it.
God, I was in deep.
“I know we said we’d go for round two,” she murmured, “but I’m pretty wiped out between the move and the late night.”
“I figured after you fell asleep on the way home.” I chuckled. “I’m bagged too, much as I hate to admit it.”
All of today’s heavy lifting had taken its toll. I could have rallied if she wanted—it wasn’t like I’d turn her down, ever—but I was tired.
Bailey pulled the soft white comforter higher around her body, shivering. The room felt fine to me, but as usual, she was cold. Her bare feet told me as much, because they were pressed up against my calf like blocks of ice.
“Thanks for helping me today.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re moved.”
She turned onto her stomach and propped herself up on one elbow to face me. Her blond hair fell in front of her face, and she brushed it away with her free hand.
Our eyes met, and her lips tugged at the corners, a small smile forming on her perfect mouth.
Everything shifted, like the earth moving on its axis.
It felt like the moment before our first kiss, before our first real sleepover, before we had sex for the first time. One of those slivers of time I’d remember forever, going into it as one person and leaving as someone else.
Her expression sobered as her green-gold eyes traced my face, lips slightly parted. She looked nervous for a split second, and her brow furrowed before she spoke.
“I love you,” she said softly.
She beat me to it.
A rush ran through my body. The only time I’d ever felt something even remotely comparable was when I was drafted, but even that didn’t compare—partly because, on some level, I always knew that would happen.
But in the scheme of my life, I never expected her.
“I love you, James. I’ve known that for a while.”
For once in my life, I’d managed to filter something. I was fairly certain I’d gotten there first, although it took me a while to figure out what the hell was going on.
Her face brightened, her smile returning. “Really?” She shifted, moving closer to me and placing a soft, warm hand on my bare chest.
“Yeah.” I tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to make sure you were there too before I said anything. But it’s not a big secret, anyway. Pretty sure half the state knows how I feel by this point.” I leaned in, my mouth hovering above hers. “Feels good to say it, though.”
She smiled against my lips. “Sure does.”
The week flew by in a blur of classes, practice, and dryland. In addition to her usual heavy workload, Bailey was consumed with completing some massive scholarship application that required an essay, references, and a million other time-intensive items. Between our conflicting schedules, we barely had time to see each other.
To make matters worse, Coach Miller was all over me again, which I couldn’t understand because my grades were fine and so was my performance. I could barely breathe without him looking in my direction.