People are attracted to The Playmaker, the showboat on the ice, the guy with a different bunny on his arm after every game. The guy I learned to hide wasn’t enough to keep my own mother around, and when it comes right down to it, Nina deserves better. Hell, I’ve read her books, know her expectations. I’m not good enough for her. Not worthy of her love. She needs someone who is.
She makes a soft, sleepy sound, and I inch from beneath the covers. I fix the blankets around her, and take one last look at the girl I love…the girl I’ve spent my entire fucking life loving. Christ, I want her so much. I never should have started something with her that I couldn’t finish. Not with Nina, my sweet ballerina.
She needs someone who isn’t a hot fucking mess, someone who doesn’t pretends to be an expert asshole so no one sees the real guy beneath. But she glimpsed that guy tonight, and I can’t handle her walking away in the end, too.
Besides, she told me in the beginning she didn’t believe in happily ever after, and I told her the same. This thing started because she needed something from me—I’m used to people wanting something from me—and I can’t hang around and run the risk of her wanting more. Not that I’m certain she will. She agreed to a commitment for the duration of her lessons, and didn’t ask for anything more.
Don’t let anyone in, don’t get hurt.
I always pretend to be someone else, and in the end, if she hangs around longer, and we got involved deeper, Nina won’t like what she sees. I need to save her the pain of that betrayal by leaving first and ending this now. I’m sure she’s gotten all she needed for her book—hockey and sex lessons—and even though my fucking heart is breaking, it gives me a measure of comfort to know I’ve been able to help her. She’ll get on track with her book. Of that I’m sure.
I back away and grab my clothes from the floor. I steal one last look at the sleeping beauty sprawled out on her bed. The beatings from my father were nothing compared to the debilitating pain of walking away from Nina.
I love her. I fucking love her with everything in me, but she’s seen and heard too much, and I can’t, just can’t have her hating that guy she got a glimpse of today. She’s better off not knowing who I really am, and finding someone better.
17
Nina
I glance at my phone, my messages to Cole having gone unanswered for three days.
Three freaking days!
When we flew over Mt. Rainier, I had a horrible feeling it was the last for us, but then he came to my bed and made love to me, which led me to believe we were going to continue this affair until the end of playoffs. But then he snuck out under the cover of darkness. He left without so much as a note, a goodbye, or even a, ‘it’s been fun hate-fucking you but now we’re done.’
“You okay?” Jess asks from my sofa. She’s barely left my side for days, and while I love her for it, I need space to figure this out, figure out where I go from here. I’ve learned so much about Cole, so much about my brother Cason…and myself. It’s hard to take it all in, make sense out of things.
“Yeah,” I say, and look at my phone when it pings. My heart leaps.
Jess jumps from her seat. “Is it Cole?” she asks, a scowl on her face. It’s pretty much taken everything in me to stop her from hunting him down and removing one of his testicles. But I had to remind her that I knew what I was getting into when I seduced him that night.
But did I really know? Did I know I’d fall head over heels in love with him? Maybe there was a small part of me that did, considering I’ve loved him since I was a young girl.
“It’s Cason.” She relaxes a bit, and I text him back. “He wants to see me,” I say, and I’m thrilled that he’s reaching out to me.
“Want me to drive you?”
“Yeah, okay,” I say. Cole’s car is still out front but I don’t want to drive it. Then again, maybe I should drop it off at his place, let him know I got the message loud and clear. We. Are. Done.
I grab my purse from the counter and follow Jess out the door. Twenty minutes later, she drops me off at Mom and Dad’s place and tells me to text her when I’m ready to go home.
Home.
God, I suddenly hate that word.
I head up the driveway to my childhood home, and my throat tightens a little for all the
things I want, but never thought I could have. A home, a family…Cole.
Cason opens the door before I get there, and my mind travels back to Cole again, and the way he used to wait for me. I love that feeling. Love someone looking forward to seeing me. Being with me.
“Cason,” I say when I see him. I take in his messed-up hair, longer now than when he went on the road. He’s dressed in a pair of jean and a long-sleeve T-shirt. Always causal, always laid back, but I know him well enough to know he’s deeper than that. Growing up without Mom and Dad present in our lives had been as hard on him as it had been on me.
“Get over here,” he says, and wraps his arms around me. I breathe in his familiar smell of soap and fabric softener.
I hug him—hard, tight, never wanting to let go. “I’m so proud of you, Cason. I’ve been watching your games.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?”