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I let this sink in for a few seconds. “And by me keeping silent, it just ensured he kept doing it. ”
Walking up to the podium, I rest my forearm on it in a casual stance and place my other hand in my pocket. “It was a teacher at school who noticed a bruise on my arm and asked me about it. I was so afraid of telling because I didn’t want to let my mom down, and I was afraid of losing my dad, because even though he did those terrible things to me…he still loved me. ”
Now, as I gaze out over the kids, I see that several are leaning forward as they listen, and I see one nod her head up and down in agreement. All I need to do is reach one…that is all.
I go on with my talk, pushing the truth that you need to reach out for help. That teachers, school counselors…they are all prepared to help you deal. I tell them how my story turned out successfully. My teacher reached out to my mother, who in turn made my dad go to rehab for the first time. I don’t sugarcoat it; I tell them how he failed at rehab, and how my mom and I were homeless. But I also tell them about Jim-Dad, and how my life turned around, and how my past is what fuels my desire to help others. Most important, I make sure they understand addiction comes in all forms, that my dad’s poison was he**in but that there are a variety of drugs, not to mention alcohol and gambling and sex, that can wreak havoc on peoples’ lives.
Finally, I end my talk with my contact information, including my personal cell phone number. I point out some of the crisis center materials we brought with us that are laid out on tables at the back of the room. I finish to resounding applause, then I introduce Alex, and the cheers turn deafening. I can’t help but smile, because while I had the personal message, Alex’s star still shines brighter than mine. They will listen to him for sure.
I sit in Alex’s chair and listen to him. He doesn’t read from the paper I handed him word for word but he summarizes it nicely, putting his own flavor on it. He then does something that surprises me.
“Before I head out, I want to encourage you to really listen to what Sutton said,” he says as he turns and points to me with a smile. “I’ve come to know her pretty well over the last few months, and there is nothing more important to her than helping out others in need. You can’t be afraid to ask for help. It could make a big difference not only in your life, but maybe to your loved one who is addicted as well. ”
Alex thanks the kids for listening and they give him a standing ovation. I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. I’m too proud of him, as well as myself, because I think this went off far better than I could have ever expected.
We don’t stay around to talk to the students. The principal suggested and we agreed on a quick exit, because as kids will be kids, most were probably only interested in the hockey star in their midst. Still…I’m betting there is at least one kid here today that got the message and will reach out. I’m sure of it.
We walk out of the school and head across the parking lot. I see Alex parked his Suburban right beside my car. The silence between us hangs a bit heavy, but I don’t know what to say. Apparently Alex doesn’t either, because not a peep comes out of him.
When we reach the cars, he walks beside me to my driver’s door. When I reach out with my keys to open it, he grabs my arm and halts me. Turning to him, I have a moment’s hesitation, afraid to look in his eyes. I don’t even know if we have a relationship at this point, given the radio silence between us the last two days.
I finally have the courage to raise my eyes, and relief courses through me as I see warmth and pride on his face, complemented by a big smile. He reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, then leans in to give me a soft kiss.
“You were amazing, Sutton,” he says quietly. “I’m truly blown away. ”
His gaze turns a little sad and then he pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry you went through that with Cosmo. I had no idea. ”
I shrug my shoulders, as if it’s not a big deal. I mean, I know it’s a big deal, but I’ve made my peace with it. I don’t want him to be sad for me, because I’m not sad for me.
He holds me for a long time, and we just listen to the quiet. Finally, I pluck up the courage. “I missed you. ”
Alex squeezes me in response and murmurs in my ear. “I missed you too. A lot. ”
Taking two steps back, Alex pulls me with him and leans back against his Suburban. Spreading his legs, he pulls me in between and rests his hands on my hips. “I’m sorry I didn’t call while I was gone. ”
I give him a smile that tells him it’s okay. “I didn’t call you either. ”
“I’m actually glad you didn’t,” he admits with a wince. “I…um, was sort of caught up in some family drama and just needed some space. ”
He doesn’t want to talk details. I can tell by the look on his face and the tension in his shoulders, so all I ask is, “Are you okay? I mean, did everything work out okay?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he says, then looks off across the parking lot. The late afternoon sun hits his eyes and lightens them to a pale blue, which pop even brighter because of his thick, dark lashes.
When he turns to look back at me, he says, “I wanted to apologize again…for the way I acted in New York. I don’t have any excuse. ”
I’m surprised by how bothered he still is by that. He already apologized to me, and clearly I accepted it, because I let him inside my body after that. I thought that spoke volumes, so I’m not sure why he still feels the need for forgiveness.
“Alex…it’s okay—” I start to assure him but he cuts in.
“No…it’s not. It’s not okay because I’m afraid it will happen again. I feel like I’m on a tightrope sometimes, a balancing act that I’m constantly maintaining just so I can be with you. But I feel myself tilting off it more and more lately. It’s a constant push and pull within me, and half the time I feel like I should break things off with you to avoid hurting you more down the road. Honestly…it’s why I didn’t call you the last few days. I was thinking of ending things. ”
I suck in a deep breath, trying to expand my lungs past the hurt that those words create. “Can you share with me what happened to cause this? I want to help you. ”
Releasing my h*ps and bringing his hands to my face, he peers at me intently. “The details aren’t important, just some shit going on with my dad. I think I got it handled. ”
“So where do we stand?” I ask hesitantly, because for all I know, his next words are going to break my heart.
Still cupping my face, Alex leans in and kisses me. Soft at first, but then his mouth opens and he slips his tongue inside of me, causing all of my troubles to melt away. I step in closer to him until my pelvis is resting against his, and no matter that we are in a public high school parking lot, I grind against him slightly and feel him go hard. It’s a desperate move on my part— hoping that my sexual allure will keep him pinned to my side.
Alex gives a deep groan and kisses me harder, for just a moment, just to make his point clear. When he pulls away, he says, “I can’t let you go. I don’t want to hurt you but I don’t want to be without you either. I’ve said it before…I’m a selfish bastard. I’ll risk hurting you just so I can have another day, another week, another month. Tell me I’m a bastard. ”
His words are urgent and filled with need. He needs me to call him a liar and I’m going to do just that. “You are not selfish. The heart wants what the heart wants. ”
“Is it my heart that wants you, Sutton?” he asks on a low murmur. “Or is it just my cock?”
“Only you can answer that,” I tell him breathlessly. “But my heart is involved, so whether you hurt me right now, or hurt me down the road, it’s going to hurt all the same. ”
Alex pulls me into him hard and hugs me again. I never would have taken Alex for being much of a hugger, but he seems to find a measure of comfort in the intimacy of the act.
Placing his lips against my cheek, Alex tells me, “I’m so afraid of hurting you
that I think it’s safe to say my heart is definitely involved. ”
“So, try not to hurt me. ”
“I’ll try,” he answers, and I’m thankful that his voice is sincere.
Chapter 25
Alex
“Crossman…in my office…now!”
Garrett slaps a comforting hand on my back and gives me a look of sympathy as he walks out of the locker room, his game bag slung over his shoulder. “Call me later, dude, if you want to go grab a beer or something. ”
“Sure thing,” I tell him, but I know after the ass chewing I’m about to be handed, I’m not going to feel like going out. Especially not on top of that miserable performance I just turned in for my team, and especially not after we lost our third game in a row.
Walking into Coach’s office, I take a seat and pick a nonexistent piece of lint off my slacks. When I look up at him across the desk, he’s looking at me with a mixture of anger and worry.
“What the f**k’s the problem?” he asks.
“No problem,” I answer, the smart-ass in me showing up early to the game.
“Try again, Crossman. For a guy who averages at least a goal or an assist per game, something is f**king wrong that you haven’t had a point since we got back from New York. Now, I want to know what the f**k the problem is. ”
“Gee, Coach, you’ve really been working on your motivational skills,” I taunt.
Pretore looks at me for a moment, eyebrows raised at my audacity, then he gives me a sly grin. “What is it? Pussy you getting not good enough? Did they discontinue your favorite ice cream brand? Fuck, maybe your panties are too tight. It’s gotta be something. ”
I can’t help it—I crack up laughing, even bend over and clutch at my stomach. When I look back up, Coach is smiling at me, but his eyes are worried. “Seriously, Alex. What can I do to get you back on track? You were playing so well…really had your shit together. ”
The laughter dies and bitterness wells up inside of me. “I don’t know. My focus is off. ”
“Well, no shit, Dick Tracy. How do we get you focused again?”
“I’ll work harder,” I tell him quickly.
“It’s not your skills and we both know it. Your slap shot doesn’t need polishing—your confidence does. ”
“You think my confidence is gone?” I ask, surprised by his conclusion. I still feel as cocky and egocentric as ever when I step out onto the ice. Granted, I get frustrated easily, and that may take away some of my focus and drive, but surely I still have confidence.
I’m Alex Fucking Crossman…most valuable prick and all that.
“Look, buddy,” Coach says, really taking on the paternal tone with me. “You need to evaluate your life…figure out what is causing you stress and get rid of it. You get into a mental funk, it’s hard to break free. Don’t ignore it, okay?”
His words cause me immense discomfort because there are a couple of things stressing me out, one of which is my constant worry that I’ll hurt Sutton. It’s something that I think about every day. The other is my father. I’m worried he’ll quit rehab, start drinking and kill himself. If that happens, I don’t know if I can survive the guilt, because no matter what Cameron said to me that day at breakfast, I could have stepped in long ago and gotten him help.
That was proven by the fact that when I went to Canada last week, Dad easily rolled over on me when I suggested rehab. He cried when I told him I didn’t want him to die, and then I packed his bags and took him to a facility that Cameron had already arranged.
Shaking my head, I stand up and look down at Pretore. “I’ll get it together. I promise. ”
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