Page 24 of Breakaway to You

I could tell from his smirk that he was thinking about what else he could get away with.

“Since you must know,” he said, his gaze traveling the length of me. “I was thinking how much I like seeing you in my kitchen.”

Oh.

I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. His comment wasn’t even all that flirty. It almost felt more meaningful than some flippant, flirty remark. Which was scarier than him flirting with me. Flirting could be brushed aside as a fun pastime, or a personality trait, or a way to get someone to blush—and I had a feeling Zeke enjoyed that a little too much—but expressing genuine thoughts or feelings sent a jolt of fear through me.

But I must have heard the tone in his voice wrong. And misread the way his eyes were drinking me in. Because this was Zeke Lawson we were talking about. Pro hockey player who had never had a girlfriend. He’d even told me himself he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. I didn’t understand why he was saying the things he did or what it meant that he wanted me to stay, so it would be safer to ignore it all. Chalk it up to Zeke being Zeke.

I put on an air of aloofness, waving him off. “I’m sure you say that to all the women who’ve been in your kitchen.”

A teasing grin didn’t reach his lips like I thought it would. Instead, he only looked at me with an even more serious expression.

He subtly shook his head. “You’re only the second woman to ever be in my kitchen.”

“You meanthiskitchen.” I pointed to the ground. “Not like all the kitchens you’ve ever had.”

“No,” he said, like I was the one not making sense here. “I mean, out of all the different places I’ve lived, you’re the second woman to be in my kitchen or apartment.”

My brows pushed together. “You can’t be serious.” I paused, letting him see if he would correct himself but when he didn’t, I continued. “I’m really the second womanever?” I was flabbergasted by this information.

“Well, except for the cleaners,” he amended. “Yes.”

I kept blinking at him, waiting for my mind to catch up to his words. Once they did, it made me extremely curious about the first woman. I tried to remember if there had ever been a girlfriend in his early years as an NHL player, but I couldn’t remember one. Yes, sadly I knew way too much about him.

“Who was the first?” I finally asked.

A pained expression crossed his features. “Someone a long time ago.”

My body froze at his admission.

Oh, my gosh.

Zeke had been in love before. Possibly still was, if that hurt on his face was anything to go by.

It shouldn’t have been so hard for me to think of Zeke in love. Lots of people fall in and out of love every day. But he had always seemed like an enigma, someone I had watched from afar who seemed too happy being single to ever want to change his status, certainly not someone who had been in love.

Never mind the annoying new emotion that had randomly popped up out of nowhere. I refused to recognize it as jealousy, so I did my best to push that ridiculous feeling far, far away.

His body language screamed that he didn’t want to talk about it, his eyes focused on the adjoining living room to keep from looking at me. I should have felt like a horrible person for wanting to pry into his personal life but the desire to know more was too strong for me to keep my mouth shut.

“Was it before you were drafted into the NHL?” I asked as gently as I could.

His gaze swung to me, and I could see the hesitancy in his eyes as he shifted in his seat.

“Yeah.”

No wonder I didn’t know anything about a past girlfriend of his. There wasn’t much information on him before he joined the NHL.

The silence lingered between us.

Maybe it was the physical therapist in me, but I wanted to push, not to the point of injury, but to get past the limit he had set for himself, knowing that in the end it would help him.

“How long were you two together?” I kept my voice soft, almost like I was talking to an animal that might spook easily.

He interlocked his fingers, keeping his eyes down. “A year and a half.”

He was about to shut down, I could sense it. I’d have to be careful if I wanted to get any more information about this mysterious woman. And not just because I was curious, but I also thought it would be therapeutic for him. Possibly even help him with his struggles and fears about retirement and loneliness. I had a feeling that whoever this woman in his past was, she played a key role in why he kept to himself. Working through emotional problems might be what he needed to clear his head and help him not physically injure himself on the ice. With his eventual retirement constantly on his mind, along with his physical limitations, I had a feeling he was in his own head too much. Emotions were constantly tangling themselves up with our physical health, and if I could get him to talk, maybe I could help him with more than just physical therapy. Healing started from within.

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