Page 120 of Gloves Off

My mom sent me a flurry of rabbit photos that night, and it hits me: she didn’t like Emma. She tried to, and she never said a word against her, but she didn’t connect with her like she has with Georgia.

“What happened?”

I sigh, rolling my bad shoulder, but stop when Georgia’s eyes flick to it. “I was young and stupid.”

“I was engaged, too.”

“You were?” Another spike of alarm. She didn’t want to get married. What kind of guy would she actually say yes to? Is it that Liam guy she didn’t want to talk about? Does she still think about him? I hate the idea of another guy’s ring on her finger. “What happened?”

“I was young and stupid.”

Curiosity has me by the throat. “They might ask this in the citizenship interview.”

Her eyes turn wary. “You first.”

I hesitate. I never talk about what happened. I want to know her side, though. I want her to trust me like she did the night she bandaged my broken finger. “She didn’t show up to our wedding.”

Her back muscles tense, and she turns to face me. I can feel her body heat in the inch between us.

“What?” she asks in a cold, deadly voice that I kind of like. “She left you at the altar?”

I snort, shaking my head. “No. The morning of.”

Her nostrils flare. “Was she stupid?”

“Now who’s feeling possessive, Hellfire?”

“I hate that stupid nickname.” Her eyes flash.

“No, you don’t.” I stare down into her eyes, counting every color in her irises. “Her family didn’t like me. They were wealthy. Old money.” I give her a significant look. “Very close with the Greenes.”

She makes a face. “Not this Greene.”

“I know that. Now.”

I watch realization dawn on her face before guilt stabs me in the gut. “You thought I was like her.”

“Yeah.” A tight nod. More regret pinching behind my sternum. “You reminded me of her.” I gesture at her hair. “Well-dressed, beautiful, charming. Outgoing. Charismatic.”

She blinks, stunned.

“They didn’t think I was from a suitable family.” I can’t believe how many cards I’m showing her tonight.

Her jaw drops. “What?”

I grunt, nodding again.

“If I ever meet that bitch, I will kill her.”

In an instant, all the weird feelings evaporate, replaced with the urge to laugh. My head drops to her neck, and I smile into it so she won’t see. “Easy there, Hellfire.” I take a deep breath, inhaling her.

“Do you miss her?” she asks quietly.

My relationship with Emma was nothing like what I seebetween my teammates and their partners. I never looked at her the way Streicher looks at Pippa, I didn’t joke around with her the way Owens and Darcy do, and I didn’t tease her like Miller does to Hazel.

“No.” Easy answer.

I barely saw her during the season. Weeks would pass without seeing her. None of those guys could do that. All I cared about was hockey, though.

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