Page 20 of Slash & Burn

JILL

God, for someone who despises attention as much as I do, I sure had a knack for saying the worst possible things to the exact wrong person. Mr. Dream Team was convinced he could help me with the bookstore idea I’d shelved years ago. He’d let it drop as we ate, moving on to safer topics of conversation, but I could see it in his eyes; it wasn’t over.

The crowd at Holy Smokes biker bar were far from hockey fans, so we got through lunch without another incident, thank god. The way those women had clawed all over Grady. And the smile on his face the whole time they did. It made my stomach turn. Everything I’d tried to avoid seeing in the media for years played out right before my eyes.

“You’re seriously not going to wear my number this weekend?”

He was back to that, watching me gather my things as he turned down the long dirt road that ran back to my cottage. My parents had bought the old farm property well before I was born. When I decided to come home after college they’d offered me the gardener’s cottage to rent, and I jumped at the chance. It was nestled back away from the main house, up on a little hill that overlooked the river down below. Surrounded by wildflowers and with a family of deer that stopped by every morning, I considered it about as close to heaven as I might ever get.

“No. I’m not. I’ll have it with me should there be some sort of jersey emergency. But otherwise I’m going to be rooting for the whole Brawlers team, en masse, not just one particular player. I’m for thewhole team.” My tone was undeniably sarcastic and I didn’t care.

I’d never admit this to Grady even if my life depended on it, but wearing his jersey felt a lot like touching the Stanley Cup before you’ve won it—a curse that would only ever keep the thing out of reach.

And Grady was far enough out of reach already.

It was like my high school crush all over again, complete with a vein of jealousy for every other woman who got his attention. Even knowing nothing would ever happen between us, I didn’t need to jinx myself for life by wearing his jersey as if he was actually mine, or I was his, or whatever the whole jersey thing meant. And clearly it meant something because aside from his fervor that I wear it, I’d seen enough hockey girlies and varsity jackets being passed around in high school to understand the significance.

But that wasn’t us.

It never would be.

As he made his way around the bend we spotted my parents sitting out on their front porch. Dad was rocking in his wicker chair while Mom sat on the loveseat, her arm coming over her head with a wave when she saw us and a warm smile on her face. But then someone stepped in front of her, and my stomach did a little flop; Joey was there, and his eyes were fixed on Grady’s car like he wanted to pull it over.

Grady gave a cautious wave, shifting in his seat as we passed their house and carried on toward mine.

“Joey talk you into joining his beer league while you’re home?” I asked, watching Grady’s sudden unease with a bit of fascination.

“Sure. I’ll make a few appearances.”

I clicked my seatbelt as he pulled up next to my car. “You don’t sound very excited.”

He sighed, little lines around his eyes deepening as he stared at the wheel. “I’m still working on my shoulder, so I probably shouldn’t be going at all.”

Imagining Grady in pain was like a bucket of cold water on my lighthearted curiosity. Everything about the man saidstrongandcapable, but I could hear the doubt in his voice. A winner like Grady wasn’t made for anything but success, and yet here he was, looking more defeated than I’d ever seen him.

“How bad is it?” I didn’t know why, but I felt like what Grady had just said wasn’t something he was used to sharing. There was a certain pleading in his eyes when he finally looked my way.

“I’m still struggling to get the full range of motion. And doing stuff with weights is hard.” He blew out another big breath, forcing his lips into a half-hearted smile. “But the docs say I just need to give it time.” He reached across the console and gave my thigh a quick, reassuring squeeze and my heart started to race. “I’ll be back to normal in no time.”

The softness of his voice was meant to be convincing, but instead sounded sad, and made me want to do something, anything, to take away the shadows in his eyes.

I nodded too hard, trying to fill the quiet car with enough enthusiasm to drown out the alarms going off in my head. “I’m sure you will be. You’ve never let anything stop you before.”

Grady’s eyes were locked on mine, his expression sweetening. “I thought you said you didn’t want to be a cheerleader?”

A gust of air huffed out of me, relieved but also a little disappointed that he’d snapped the line of tension between us. “Thanks for the reminder.” I went to push the door open when Grady’s hand landed on my arm.

“Hey. Thank you. I might be shit at taking it, but I appreciate that . . .” he trailed off, his gaze sliding to the side as he worked on a thick swallow. The shadows were back in his eyes. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course,” I said, pushing my door open. “We’re a team, right?” I meant it to sound sarcastic, trying to keep things light. But when I bent to look back at Grady before closing the door I saw the look on his face, and my humor faded.

“We are.” His voice sounded a little rough, but he held my gaze, making me turn away first.

“See you at the shoot.”

“I’ll pick you up,” he answered quickly.

I sighed incredulously. “I can drive myself.”

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