Page 22 of Dirty Play

Setting my drink back down, I fold my hands and pause, trying to figure out how to say this without making shit even worse.

“I don’t have an answer for you, Sawyer. Truthfully, I wish I did. None of that night should have happened.”

“Are you saying you used her?”

“No. I’m saying everything that happened that night shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did, so what’s the big deal?”

“Because my big brother has this martyr bullshit set in his mind. He believes everyone in the world is better off without him, including his family and anyone he might care about as more than a friend. Which from what I’m gathering, this Gwen chick might fit in that latter category.”

Sawyer and I look to Kylie, who slides into the spot across from us and rests her chin on her fist as she watches us with interest. A little smirk tells me she’s in the mood to start some shit.

“Based on the conversation I just walked into, it seems my big brother is continuing to push people away, even after he pushed his family away and left home.”

And that’s all it takes. The next thing I know, Sawyer has turned to my baby sister and spilled the entire story about Gwen and I—well, minus the parts no sister wants to hear about her brother. Yet she somehow makes sure to get the point across.

I hooked up with one of my best friends, told her it was a mistake, and then basically ghosted her.

I expect Sawyer and Kylie to team up on me, to make me feel like complete and total shit for everything, but instead, it almost feels like there’s a little more understanding.

It’s still unnerving, though. I’ve been able to keep this shit away from everyone for six years, and Kylie meets them for one night and spills the beans, only for Sawyer to do the same, both enjoying swapping stories about me. I thought I’d be mad, maybe even upset at everyone knowing my business, but truthfully, I’m relieved.

Maybe if everyone knows my story, they’ll understand why I am the way I am. Why I refuse to let anyone in. Why no woman has ever been to my home, and why anytime feelings start to crawl their way inside my heart I torch them until all that’s left is dust. Maybe if they understand, they’ll help me figure out how to redraw the line in the sand with Gwen.

“I’m certain he likes her; he’s just protecting himself,” Kylie says before taking a sip from her beer.

“From what?” Sawyer whispers like I can’t hear, but before Kylie can answer, I squash it.

“Enough of your little gossip sesh. Where the hell is she tonight?” I ask Sawyer, who turns to look at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. Like some puzzles were solved while new ones popped up.

“She’ll be here soon. She isn’t off until midnight, and then she’s going to walk over, so she’ll probably be here a little after then.”

“She’s going to walk here? From the hospital… by herself?” I stammer, feeling my blood pressure rise at the thought of Gwen out in New York at midnight, all alone. “She can’t do that.”

“She walks home every night, Cade,” Sawyer says.

I get up, slamming a wad of cash down on the table before turning to look at Kylie. “I’ll be back. Let’s not share all the family secrets on your first night, deal?”

She smiles, holding up her pinky, making me promise like always before I turn and walk out of the bar.

Running to the hospital after playing a brutal game of hockey is probably not my smartest choice, but thinking isn’t exactly my strong suit when it comes to this woman.

Had I even slowed down for two seconds to think, I would’ve remembered my damn car was parked at the bar. But with only fifteen minutes left till midnight, I took off running.

Kylie laughed after our pinky promise and said something about how she knew one day someone would knock me on my ass, but I just kept going. Now, walking around the front of the hospital to the entrance, I wonder if she’s right—is that what’s happening right now, and I’m just too naïve to admit it?

Before I make it through the hospital’s front doors, I see Gwen through the glass, sitting in the cafeteria laughing. Her smile is big and bright while she talks with another woman and a teenage girl, who is a spitting image of the woman I can only assume is her mom.

Gwen looks happy right now—like, truly happy, and I wish I could freeze this memory, and keep it close to remind myself what pure happiness looks like. To remind myself I felt happy when I saw her this happy—because this is as close to joy as I’ve felt off the ice in a long time. I lose track of time as I watch them laugh and talk until I realize it’s now well after midnight and by the looks of it, she’s going nowhere fast.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot her a quick text, refusing to leave until I know she’s safe.

Are you coming out tonight?

Gwen

Oh, now you want to talk to me?

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