Page 75 of From Coast to Coast

He huffs, rubbing vigorously at his hair and looking frustrated.

“Listen, I know I’ve been the problem here, and it might not seem this way, but I don’t want to half-ass this just because I’m a little scared of commitment. It’s not fair to either of us if we tiptoe around and play things safe.Yes, I want you to be here during the off-season. And I meanhere, Gray. I want you where I can see you and touch you. I don’t want to have to drive all over California to find you.”

This time I can’t hold myself back. Remy melts into me with no resistance, fingers resting on my throat as I kiss the shit out of him.

“Okay,” I tell him, when a particularly violent crack of thunder breaks us apart. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to pressure you. I always knew I was going to end up wanting more with you, but you didn’t come into this the same way. I don’t want you to ever feel obligated, or?—”

“Obligated,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I seem to remember me being the one who came on to you. You haven’t pressured me once, Gray. I’m not certain you even know the meaning of the word. Seriously, though, about this summer. The day after our respective seasons end, I want you here with me. All summer.”

“Okay.”

He keeps his eyes on my face for a few moments, lookingfor something in my expression. Eventually, his shoulders relax and half of his mouth kicks up into a smile as he cards gentle fingers through the hair above my ear. Instead of sliding back into his spot next to me, he surprises me by swinging a leg over my thighs and straddling me. Cupping my face, he brushes his thumb over my stubble.

“We’re recovered, right?” he asks, and then slowly starts to rock his hips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Remy

I leanmy forearms on the railing and watch as Grayson walks his way slowly along the beach, occasionally bending down to pick up a seashell. I’d come inside to shed my wetsuit and replace my surfboard, but am enjoying a quiet moment of watching before I join him. He’s not wearing a shirt, and even from a distance I can see the color staining his skin. Only a handful of days under the West Coast sun and he’s three shades darker than before. It makes his blue eyes pop even more under his dark hair, and I’ve gotten addicted to snapping pictures of him. I want photographic proof for when he’s gone and I’m back in Canada. I want to be able to remind myself how he looked under the California sun.

Straightening, I make it halfway down my porch stairs when I hear my phone ringing. Doing an about-face, I jog back inside to make sure it’s not anyone important. When I see the screen, I fumble the phone and almost drop it.

Amanda.

I want to let it go right through to voicemail. Other than a handful of texts talking about nothing more serious than hockey stats, we haven’t talked since the papers were signed. I haven’t stalked any of her social media, and if she’s reached out to Alex, he hasn’t mentioned it to me. I should really just ignore this call.

But those three years of marriage, and years of friendship before that, have me pressing the green button and bringing the phone to my ear. Like a creep, I sit there silently, waiting for her to breach the silence.

“Ree?”

The nickname has goose bumps breaking out on my arms, and a sick, slimy feeling settling in my gut.

“Hey, Amanda,” I’m finally able to unstick my throat enough to say.

“How are you?”

“Did you need something?” I ask, realizing I sound like a massive dick, but unable to stop the words. I’m terrified that my perfect vacation with Grayson is about to be shattered into a thousand pieces.

“I drove by your place yesterday and noticed that the lights were on. Are you home?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think?—”

“I’m not stopping by, Ree, relax. I just…well, like I said, I saw the lights and it reminded me that I wanted to talk to you. Are you doing okay in Calgary?” She pauses, and I hear her inhale deeply before she continues in a quieter voice. “I’m not calling to try and get back together. This isn’t awe made a mistakecall.”

I relax a tiny bit, but not enough to keep the mistrust from my voice. “Calgary blows. It was fine beforeGrayson got traded, but now it’s just terrible. I’m going to refuse an extension and end the season as a free agent.”

“Wow, that bad? I was surprised Brody left when I heard. He seemed like one of those that was going to retire with them.”

“Mm,” I hum noncommittally, unsure of whether I’m at the point where I can talk about Grayson with her yet. “What about you? How’s work?”

We chat for a few moments about nonsense things: work, weather, and hockey. The conversation is so stilted and awkward, it’s exhausting. I feel like we’re both trying too hard on something that should be simple. After we deplete our store of small talk, a painful silence falls between us. I walk over to the window and stare down at Grayson. He’s strolled almost to my property line and is crouched down, digging something out of the sand.

“Amanda, I’ve got to go.” A pause, as I consider what I want to say. I promised myself I wasn’t going to hide Grayson, though, even obliquely. If I’m going to be in this relationship, I need to be comfortable telling people. “I’ve actually got company.”

“Oh,” she says, and though she sounds surprised, she doesn’t sound angry. “That’s good, Ree… Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I think I owe you an apology for how I spoke to you the last time we were together.”

“You know what they say: what happens in the divorce, stays in the divorce.”

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