by Cathryn Fox
A burst of happiness races through me, but he goes serious again. “What will happen if you don’t get this series written?”
“I don’t know.”
Troubled eyes look past my shoulder. What is it he’s not telling me?
“Your books pay the bills, right?”
“Yeah.”
“If you can’t pay the bills, will you have to move home?”
My stomach cramps. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Cason talked about finally getting his own place here in Seattle. Maybe you could move in with him.”
“No. I love my brother, but I don’t want to be underfoot. I want to do things on my own.”
“It’s okay to ask for help. I mean…if you wanted to, you could stay at my place as long as you want.”
I stand there for a second, think about what he’s saying. Tabby straight up and told me he didn’t bring women into his home—ever—yet here he is, asking me to stay. Is he feeling the closeness between us, too? Do I dare hope?
“Are you serious?”
“As serious as a concussion.”
I laugh, and he opens his mouth to say something else, but he closes it when Jess calls from the boards.
“I’d better get going.”
He pulls me to him. “What time will you be home?”
Home.
There’s that word again. Oh, how I want that with Cole.
“Around four, but I don’t want you home until around five. Enjoy the day out with your sister, and soon to be brother-in-law.”
“Why can’t I come home before five?”
“Because I have a surprise for you.”
“I thought you didn’t like surprises.”
“I don’t.” I poke him in the chest. “But you do.”
“The only surprise I want is you naked and tied to my bed.”
“I’m pretty sure we can make that happen.”
“Fuck,” he says, and adjusts his pants. “Now I’m going to spend the rest of the day with a fucking hard-on.”
I laugh, loving this playful side of him. “See you later,” I say.
“Yeah, you will. Every inch of me,” he says as I skate off, my heart so full I’m sure it’s going to burst.
14
Cole
Jack pulls his rental onto my street, and my heart picks up when I see my Mustang in the driveway. I have no idea what surprise Nina has waiting for, and it doesn’t really matter. All I care about is getting my arms around her again. I want—no, need—her in a way I’ve never needed anyone, and that shit scares the living hell out of me.
Did I really ask her to move into my place?
She was shocked at my offer. Hell, so was I. And what was I really putting out there, anyway? Was I simply offering her a place for her to lay her head, or asking her to be mine? I don’t know. Maybe knowing Jack is going to ask Tabby to marry him is fucking with me.
When it comes right down to it, Nina doesn’t know the real me. She wouldn’t like that guy. No one does. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry or care about her. I fucking do.
Earlier today, I wanted to mention the trust fund that Cason set up for her, but she’s so goddamn independent. I get that she doesn’t want to touch it, wants to do things her way. But fuck, he set it up for her for a reason, and there’s no need for her to have her bills piling high and deep. I wanted to tell her that, but stopped myself. She’d probably be hurt or embarrassed if I butted into her financial business. Still, I’m not going to sit back and let her lose her condo, or go back to the home she grew up in, because she clearly doesn’t want that.
I climb from the backseat, and meet Tabby and Jack at the front of the car. We had a great day skating and hanging out at the park, getting caught up as we drank coffee. The more time I spend with Jack, the more I like him. But Tabby is keeping secrets from him, as much as I keep them from the world. Will that eventually affect their relationship? I don’t know, but I sure as hell hope not.
I hurry to the front door, and when I open it, the delicious scent of garlic reaches my nose. My stomach grumbles as Tabby and Jack follow me in.
“What is that?” Tabby asks. “It smells delicious.”
Nina comes from the kitchen, wearing an apron. Her hair is pulled back and there’s a flush on her cheeks, but there is also a light in her eyes I’ve never seen before. I’ve never seen her look more beautiful or more at home.
Home. Jesus, that is exactly what I want with her.
“Hey. Right on time,” she says as she glances at the clock.
“Was dinner the big surprise?”
“Lasagna, and only part of it.” She crooks her finger. “Come see.”
I follow her into the kitchen—and go perfectly still when I see a male figure sitting at the island.
My skin itches, like a thousand angry insects have taken up residency, as my blood thickens in my veins. My heart thumps, pressure building against the back of my eyes as my nerves fire.
“Hey, what—” Tabby begins, crashing into my back when I come to an abrupt stop. She moves around me, and when she sees our father, relaxed in his chair, that familiar smug look on his face, one that says I never would have made it to the NHL if he hadn’t toughened me up, she lets out an audible gasp.
I turn toward Nina, everything from anger and pain, to confusion and grief moving at breakneck speed through my veins.
How could she do this to me? How could she invite the one man I despise into my home, my sanctuary?
“Nina…”
Her eyes are wide, excited. “I invited your dad to dinner! I put it together that he wasn’t well and couldn’t drive, and you couldn’t drive, and I knew Tabby and Jack wanted to see him…” She folds her hands in front of her, and her words slow as her gaze goes from me to Tabby, back to me again. “I…ah…wanted to do something nice.”
“Nice.” I say though clenched teeth. “You think this is nice?”
“Cole?”
“Son,” my dad says, and my gaze flies to his. I take in his grey pallor, his self-righteous composure, despite the renal failure.
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
A sound catches in Nina’s throat, and she flinches.
I shake my head. Why the fuck would she invite my father to dinner without running it by me first?
“Come on now, Cole. Aren’t you a little too old to be acting like this?” He makes a grunting sound, disgust for my behavior evident in the crook of his lips. “Still so much of your mother in you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, my emotions in turmoil. I flinch when Tabby puts her hand on me.
“Cole,” she says. “I need to get out of here.”
“Tabby?” Jack says, as confused as Nina by this turn of events. And why wouldn’t they be? Tabby and I can put on a good show when we want to. But still, Nina had no right to go behind my back and do this.
“Cole, I thought—”
“Don’t,” I say, the harshness in my tone striking her like the sting of a skipping rope. I take a deep breath and try to calm down. But I’m such a fucking mess. Never in my life had I expected to see the man who beat the hell out of me on a daily basis sitting at my kitchen island, like it’s where he belongs. I walked in here ill prepared for that.
I lift my gaze, direct it at Nina. “What were you thinking?”
Tabby tugs at me. “It’s not her fault.”
“Then whose fault is it?”
“She didn’t know, Cole. You know that.”
“Tabby,” Jack says again, and she turns to him.
She grabs his hand. “We need to get out of here.”
Without question, he nods.
“Tabby, don’t,” I say, and reach for her. I can’t handle her walking out that door on me, too. What if, like Mom, she doesn’t come back?
As if privy to my thoughts, she says, “We’ll come back later.”
“Weren’t you even going to tell me you were home, girl?” Dad says, and I pla
ce my body between my father and sister, to block his view. Old habits die hard, I guess.
“Okay, go. We’ll talk later.” I take in the confusion on Jack’s face. “Take care of her, okay?” He nods, and puts his arm around her shaking body and leads her outside.
My fingers curl into fists at my sides as I turn back around. Nina brought my father here, and now my sister is leaving because of it.
“You shouldn’t have done this, Nina. You shouldn’t have fucking done this. You had no right, and totally overstepped boundaries.”
“I thought—”
“We’re fuck buddies, remember?” I say, and don’t care if my father is listening.
She flinches at the reminder, and the hurt in her eyes tears at my heart. But I’m such a goddamn mess right now, my father’s presence throwing me off my game, that I don’t seem to have any control over my stupid fucking mouth.
“You need to leave,” I say, fully aware that anything else I say is going to hurt her. Okay, maybe Tabby was right. Maybe she didn’t know, but she never should have brought anyone into my home without my permission. She knows me well enough to know that, right?
Then again, how could she?
Don’t let anyone in, don’t get hurt. Isn’t that the motto I’ve been living by?
“I just got here, boy.”
I glance at my father. “You need to leave, too.” I slowly turn my head back to Nina, and my voice is deceptively calm when I say, “But I wasn’t talking to him.”
Nina goes stiff and backs up until she hits the counter. “Cole. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I say. “Do you have any idea what you’re sorry for?”
“I…” She glances at my asshole father. “We’d better go.”
Dad stands, stretches his legs out like he has all the time in the world, and shoots me a glance. “You’d be nothing without me, boy. You should be thanking me.”
I suck in a breath and hold it. I want to hit something, but I keep my shit together. I’ve been down this road with him too many times, and I am in no shape to rehash the same fight over and over. I need to reserve my strength for the rink.
“I need to get my stuff,” Nina says, her voice as shaky as her body. She casts a quick glance at my father. “I’ll meet you at the car.”
Dad saunters down the hall. “Nice place you got here, boy,” he says before leaving my house.
Nina pulls the lasagna and garlic bread from the oven. “This is ready. Just give it a few minutes to cool and settle before you eat it. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
Jesus Christ, I just punched the air from her gut and she’s worried about me burning myself. Could I be any more of an asshole?
When she turns to find me standing there, my body practically vibrating, she gasps. “Cole, I don’t know what I did.”
“You had no right to bring that man into my house. This is my house, Nina. My escape. I don’t let just anyone in here.”
“But…your father?”
“My father? Do you want to know what kind of father he was?” With anger urging me on, I tug off my shirt, let her look over my scars. “Where do you think these came from?”
“Hockey,” she says hesitantly.
A choking noise garbles in my throat. “No, these are from the skipping rope he made me train with for hours a day. I was a fucking kid, Nina. He beat the shit out of me on a daily basis. Mom left, apparently I wasn’t enough to keep her around, and I had no one to protect me. But I fucking protected Tabby from the abuse. I took it all so none of his anger was left for her.”
“Cole…” she croaks out, tears in her eyes.
I need to stop, I need to walk away right now, but far too many years’ worth of pent-up anger claws at me, drags me under until like a tsunami. As I fight to breathe, to find safety within myself, I say, “Sometimes he’d wake me up in the middle of the night and beat me. Just for the fucking hell of it.”
“I…didn’t know. I thought he was there for you. He even got you that helicopter when your mom left. I just—”
I laugh at that. A deep, horror-filled belly laugh that scares Nina, judging by the way she’s hugging herself. “I had one fucking toy. My mom gave it to me before she left, and he smashed the fuck out of it with his fists, shattering all my dreams with every pound. All my focus had to be on hockey.”
“Cason said he was at all your games. I thought he was supportive.”
“Oh yeah, he was. He watched everything, and if I made a mistake, I paid for it later. I hated going home, Nina. Hated what was there for me.”
“Is that why you spent so much time at our house?” I drag my hand through my hair, and she continues with, “And at the skate park.”
My head jerks back. “How do you know about the skate park?”
“I used to watch you practice.” Her small shoulders curl in as she hugs herself tighter. “You didn’t know I was there. I always admired your dedication.”
“Yeah, I was dedicated, but I spent hours away because I knew what waited for me when I got home.”
She glances at the stack of bills on the table. “All this, and you still pay his bills.”
I give a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I’m that fucked up, Nina.” I shake my head. “You know who else is fucked up?”
“Me?” she asks hesitantly.
“Yeah, you. You come here to ask for help because you need to write a story. Fine, I get it, you need the money. I saw your bills.”
Her eyes go wide, and her shrugged shoulders straighten in a defiant manner. “You did?”
“Yeah, when I went with you to your place. I saw them. What’s fucked up is you’d rather lose your home than use the trust fund Cason set up for you. Why is that, Nina?”
“What are you talking about? Mom and Dad set that up, a way to make up for the years they neglected us. But I didn’t want their money, I wanted their presence in my life, which is why I refused to touch it!”
“No, Nina. Cason set that up for you.”
“But I always thought—”
“You thought wrong.”
“I…I had no idea,” she says, and reaches for me. “I had no idea about your childhood either, Cole. If I had of I would have done—”
“You’ve done enough,” I say and back up, away from her outstretched arm.
15
Nina
I pace inside my condo, my heart so heavy and empty, I have no idea what to do with myself. My throat hurts from fighting off an ugly cry as I open my curtains and glance out at Cole’s car still in front of my place. I needed a fast getaway, so when he told me to take it, I didn’t hesitate.
I never meant to hurt Cole or Tabby. When I went to his father’s house and brought him over to Cole’s for dinner, my intentions had been the exact opposite. His father never let on anything was wrong between them all, and in his head, I don’t think he can understand why Cole and Tabby have nothing to do with him. But Cole was right. I did overstep boundaries. I thought we had more between us, but the reminder that we were simply fuck buddies was a good one.
When it comes right down to it, I guess I never knew Cole at all.
I stare at the phone in my hand, wanting to call Jess, but I can’t. Those things Cole said to me were private, and even though he probably hates me for what I did, I’d never want to betray him by sharing his deepest, darkest secrets, ones that obviously still haunt him.
Tears prick my eyes and I press my palms to my face, but there’s nothing I can do to dispel the image of him standing like a cornered animal, his body tense, in fight-or-flight mode. Water pours from my eyes. Damn. Damn. Damn.
My phone pings, and I nearly drop it as I fumble to check to see if it’s Cole. Disappointment settles heavy in my chest as I read the text from Jess, wanting to know how dinner went.
I toss my phone onto my sofa and head to the kitchen. I grab a tub of ice cream from the freezer, a spoon from the drawer, and plunk back down on my sofa, my unpacked bag still sitting near my door. My phone
continues to buzz, and I continue to ignore it as I flick the TV on to watch a rerun of Friends.
As Joey cracks a joke, my doorbell chimes. Great. I should have answered Jess. Now she’s at my door, and I’m a hot mess. I don’t want to explain this to her. I don’t want to explain it to anyone. I just want to eat ice cream and curl into a ball.
I might be hurting right now, but my heart hurts more for Cole, for the years of abuse he endured and hid from the world—still does. I wasn’t sure what his sister meant when she’d said, if it wasn’t for your family. But I do now. Our house was his escape, the one place he felt safe, and I brought all his painful memories back tonight.
Christ, I could be the poster girl for fucked-up good intentions.
When the chiming continues—apparently, Jess isn’t planning on leaving anytime soon—I jab my spoon into my ice cream and wipe my hand across my tear-stained cheek.
I unlock my door, pull it open, and I’m about to ask her for a rain check on a gab session—when I find a very solemn Cole standing there, looking so lost and alone, my already broken heart shatters a little more.
“I…” I try to talk, to find my words, but they stick in my ever-tightening throat.
“Hey,” he says, looking like he’d just been through the rinse cycle then hung out to dry.
My lungs constrict, and I can barely breathe. I work to pull myself together and say, “Cole, I…I…didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I know. I’m sorry, too.” He shrugs like he’s making light of getting hurt, but there is so much pain in his eyes. “I’m an expert asshole, remember?”
I’m about to tell him he’s the nicest, kindest guy I know, and that I’m so freaking sorry, when he holds a hand out.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
He gives me a small smile, but it’s tight, like every muscle in his body. He’s so damaged it’s a wonder he can actually function in society. “It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t—”
“Like surprises, I know.”
