Page 14 of The Enforcer

Chapter Six

Kenna

It didn't even hurt. Watching Walter walk away and get into his car made me feel relief. Did that make me a bad person? I certainly felt like one. But there was no guilt. It was like my mind was trying to tell my body how I should feel and my body was telling my mind to fuck off.

I wanted to feel bad. I wanted to. Because if I didn't, was my time with Walter a waste? Had I been in love with him at all if I had been fantasizing about someone else practically the whole time? The thing was, Walter and I had good times. He made me feel things I had never felt before.

But it was like being with a coach the first three years of your hockey career. At some point, a coach could only develop a mite so far. Sometimes, they needed to move onto different teams with coaches who could teach them more than just individual skill. Sometimes, they needed to learn how to play as a team, how to go deeper as individuals, how to push harder in order to get to that next level.

Joaquin cleared his throat. God, he must think I really was a stupid high school girl, breaking up with my boyfriend in my dad's kitchen.

The last thing I wanted him to see was me being young.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said as he stepped inside from the front porch.

God, this was so embarrassing. I practically kissed him for handling things so well - for pretending I hadn't dumped my boyfriend a second before. "But I wanted to get you your pictures before I took off."

Right. The team had a road trip. How could I forget?

I was a sports buff because of my father, but I was a Houston fan because of Joaquin, and watched all of his games. Just like in real life, when he was on the ice, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He wasn't on the ice much - he was a fourth line right winger who was known more for being a fighter than a player - but it didn't matter to me. He was breathtaking no matter what he was.

"Ha," I said. "I don't know if those are even necessary now." I took the album from him and turned to head into the house. I didn't need to invite him in. He already knew he was welcome, whether my father was here or not. "I'm not sure what to do with them."

"Yeah," he said, shutting the door behind him. "I saw what happened. Sorry."

I shrugged. "I'm not," I said. I gestured with the album. "Thank you for this, though."

He nodded once, glancing around. "Your dad home?" he asked.

He knew my dad wasn't home. I knew he knew it and he probably knew I knew it too.

"No," she said. "Just me." I swallowed. "Did you want me to get you something to drink? You can stay, if you needed to see him. I think he'll be home in a few hours or so."

"I shouldn't," he responded.

Yes, we both shouldn't.

But we knew we would anyway.

"Oh." I glanced up at him, shifting my weight. "Is there anywhere you need to be?"

"No." I couldn't be sure but it sounded like his voice cracked. "Just wanted to talk to him before I took off."

"You'll be gone for four days, right?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Sounds fun," I said. "Will you miss me?"

He stiffened at the question. It was completely inappropriate. I shouldn't have asked it. I was playing a dangerous game of not knowing where the line was, and pretending I wasn't asking him these questions on purpose.

I didn't seem to care.

I glanced down at my outfit as though I needed to remind myself what I was wearing. It wasn't anything too sexy - just a t-shirt and jeans. I hadn't been expecting Joaquin or else I would have put more effort into my appearance. At the very least, I wanted to remind him of what I looked like at the shoot, maybe even get away with teasing him.

"I'm going to put this in my room," I announced. "Did you want to come up with me?"

He hesitated.

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