Cross Crease (On The Edge Book 3)

by Elizabeth Hartey

  I stop, turn to him, and shake my head. He’s incredible. He basically just told me he had sex with Alison last night. He has somehow blocked the memory of our being together and his aggressive behavior and now he wants to discuss his vintage car.

  “You’re right. I don’t have a car here, but I don’t need a ride. Maybe you should give Alison a ride in your shiny refurbished car.”

  “Will you just stop for a minute?” He grabs my arm with a bit more force and jerks me back. “I don’t want to give Alison a ride. I told you I don’t care one way or the other about her. I want you. I mean…I want to ride home with you.”

  “You sure about that? Because it seems like you’ve already given her a ride.” I glance down at his fingers still curled around my arm in a tight hold. “Could you let me go, please? I need to get my things.”

  “No. I can’t let you go. Ever.” He tightens his grip.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to. Josh is waiting for me. I’m driving home with him,” I lie in a smug tone, hoping it will mask the sound of my heart shattering. Apparently, Alison isn’t the only one who can lie to get what she wants. Or in this case, what I don’t want.

  I don’t want to be around D, Josh, or anyone right now. I’ll Uber my way home. It will give me time to cry my eyes out without anyone witnessing my meltdown except for the poor, unsuspecting Uber driver.

  “Josh. Right.” He lets go of my arm and runs his hand back through his stupid wavy long hair which looks like it was just styled by some celebrity hairstylist. Yep. He wakes up like that even while rocking a hangover. I hate him.

  “Look, last night was crazy. I don’t know what happened. I was watching you dance with…with him. I got carried away tipping back the bourbon. I don’t remember much after that. I thought I was…I don’t know. I don’t remember anything with Alison. That’s never happened to me before. I’m…I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you last night.”

  “For me? You don’t have to worry about me ever again. My immaculate V-jay is a thing of the past.” I wave him and my sore, ex-virginal vagina off. “You’re off the hook.”

  “You…with…?”

  “That’s right.” I turn and continue walking. “I’m off to graduate school all grown up and devirginized. And you were right. It was amazing! The release was exactly what I needed. So liberating.”

  We’ve finally reached my cottage. I want to run inside, lock the door, and be away from D: his smoldering eyes, his touch, his scent, his magnetism.

  “And Josh was so attentive and gentle and…”

  “You fucked him last night?” he barks, his jaw clenching. He looks like he’s getting ready to explode. Good. He deserves it since he did such an excellent demolition job on me.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted, what we planned? For me to find the right guy? A guy who would be there for me? Devoted to me?” I reach for the doorknob.

  My stomach lurches. Why am I lying to him?

  “Wait. Pip. Please? I’m sorry. Sorry I got so drunk last night. I wanted…”

  “No. Don’t apologize. It’s all good.” I hate the way the anger on his face seems to have given way to a wounded look. And more than that, I hate the way I’m beginning to feel pity for him.

  “Is it? It doesn’t seem like it is. Are you okay? Are we okay?”

  “We’re fine.” But I ask you? How can we be fine? How can I let this slide? He pillaged me last night. Not only my V-Jay but my heart and soul, as well. And he doesn’t even remember. The crazy thing is, he’s the one I would’ve asked for advice on how to deal with this situation and now I can’t even do that. And then it occurs to me; I’ll never be able to talk to my friend the way we did before. The ache in my heart deepens when I realize the full consequences of my reckless actions.

  “I have to go. I’m in a hurry.” I step into the cottage.

  “There’s a home game Thursday night. You’ll be there, right?”

  “I…no…I have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on. This weekend has really set me back, and I start at the new clinic this week. I’ll be swamped.”

  “You don’t intern at night, do you?” He keeps shifting from one foot to the other.

  I’ve never seen him like this: nervous, almost pleading with me to forgive him. But he doesn’t even know what he’s asking me to forgive and I’m not sure it’s even his mistake to have to forgive. I think it’s mine.

  I knew what I was getting into, what I was asking for. He was always honest with me when it came to who he was or how his past had left him scarred. No. That’s not exactly true. He told me time and again how he felt— or should I say, didn’t feel anything when it came to his liaisons with women. But he never told me anything about his awful childhood beyond his mom dying and his dad abandoning him. Still, I knew what he had endured wasn’t good.

  I overheard Dak talking to Batt one time when the guys were sophomores. It was one of the first times they stayed at our Malibu house. They were in Dak’s room. They didn’t know I was in the hallway. The polite thing to do on my part would have been to keep walking and not listen to their private conversation. But all courtesy went right out the window when I heard them mention Wolfe. I couldn’t get my feet to move. I stood cemented on the spot like Nancy Drew on a snooping caper to find out everything I could about D.

  As captain of the Bernard team, Dak was concerned about Wolfe’s behavior when it came to socializing and women. He knew Batt’s parents had taken Wolfe into their home when he was around fifteen. I guess he figured Batt could give him some insight into Wolfe’s conduct. Dak was responsible for handling any conflicts the guys might get into off the ice. Although none of the guys were saints, including Dak, he thought Wolfe’s over the top sexcapades might cause problems.

  Batt explained what happened between his father and Wolfe and how Wolfe ended up as Batt’s stepbrother. He didn’t go into too much more detail. Batt said it wasn’t his place to disclose any more than that. It was Wolfe’s life and his choice to tell Dak about it or not. I don’t know if D ever told Dak the rest of his wretched story. But knowing how close all the guys grew to be, I’m sure he did. Nevertheless, D never told me what he had to do to survive.

  But I’ve surmised the things he needed to do to survive on his own. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to live without the love and support of anyone, let alone on the streets of a vast, unforgiving city. I’m sure the painful experience must have had an effect on Wolfe’s ability to give and take affection.

  I thought he just needed an understanding friend to help him learn how to love again, and since I dubbed him as mine the first time I laid eyes on him, I was self-important enough to think I could be the one to do it. How arrogant I was to think I could change him or to think he even wanted to be changed. How foolish to think I could rescue him like some injured puppy.

  “Pip?” D’s voice reminds me he’s still waiting for an answer to his question. “I can send a car to pick you up. You don’t even have to drive to the game. You can study in the limo on the way.”

  “No. I…I just need some time.” My words come out in a trembled whisper. I need time to wrap my head around what happened and figure out where we go from here. Or if we can even go anywhere from here.

  “I don’t get it, Pip. What…”

  “Goodbye, D. Good luck on your season.” I close the door before he has a chance to respond. I’m sure he’s confused and hurt. At the moment, I can’t seem to care about his feelings.

  My legs give out from under me. I slide to the floor. Pulling my knees into my chest, I wrap my arms around my legs, squeezing myself into a ball. How could I have been so stupid? I knock my head back against the hard door, once, twice.

  The crocodile tears don’t wait for me to be in my Uber ride home. They’re unleashed with a sob when I realize D was right about everything. I wasn’t able to have sex with him and walk away like it was nothing or deal with him continuing to be with other women. I want more from him than that. Ano
ther loud sob comes with the admission, he was also right about me being a little fool. I wanted something he doesn’t have to give.

  Maybe that’s why I’ve let D break my heart so many times in the years I’ve known him. Or maybe I’ve broken my own heart, let him in when I knew how he felt or didn’t feel about everything.

  This time it’s too much. I can’t let myself be hurt like this anymore.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Wolfe

  “What’s going on, bro? You okay?” Batt asks as I throw my disheveled tux into the back of the Bronco.

  “I’m great. Just a dead man walking here,” I mumble. “She fucking sleeps with the dickhead and then gets mad at me for having breakfast with Alison. Have a nice season? What the hell does that mean?” I fling my duffel bag into the truck. “Is she planning on moving to another planet? Because that’s the only way she’s going to avoid seeing me for the whole fucking hockey season.”

  “What are you grumbling about? Who slept with what dickhead and who’s moving to another planet?” Batt scratches his head.

  “What?”

  “You said…”

  “No one. Nothing. I gotta get the fuck outta here.” I slam the hatch closed and go around to climb into the driver’s seat. I should’ve flown here. Why didn’t I fucking fly here? Now I’ve got to drive two and a half torturous hours with just me and my thoughts. Who am I kidding? I didn’t fly because I thought Pip would drive back with me. It would’ve given us two and a half alone time hours. I was looking forward to having her all to myself.

  I tug my hair back into an elastic band. I’m regretting leaving the top off the truck because I thought Pip would love riding back with it open. Now all I want is to be encased inside it for the damn long ride home—away from the pain in the ass world and everyone in it.

  I don’t know what the hell happened. Pippa danced with the douchebag. Then we danced together—me and Pip, not me and the douchebag. And then…and then…I don’t fucking remember. I slam my hand against the leather covered steering wheel.

  “Yo, dude,” Batt says from the passenger side door where he’s still standing. “Can you give me a lift back?”

  “Back where? Thought you had a car service lined up?” Shit. I love him and hanging with him, but he can read me like a book. I don’t want to talk to him about this, at least not until I figure out what the hell I’m talking about.

  “Cancelled it. Decided I wanted to spend some quality time with my little brother.” Without waiting for me to say yes, he tosses his bag in the backseat and hops in the truck.

  “Little brother?” I scowl at him. I fucking hate when he calls me his little brother. “You know you’re only like a month older than me, right? Not to mention, an inch shorter.”

  “Thirty days is thirty days, dude. And I make up for that inch in other places.” He waggles his brow. “Let’s go. We have a long ride home.”

  “Malibu’s kinda out of my way, bro.” I need to be alone. Not to think, but to call Pippa and get her to talk to me. Tell her I didn’t have breakfast with Alison. Find out why she’s angry.

  “No worries. I’m not going to Malibu. I’m staying with you for a couple days.”

  “You’re…you’re what now? I thought you needed to get back to the studio.” What the hell is he talking about? Batt never takes off. Never. He’s the poster child for Type A workaholics because he’s sure no one can do anything as good as he can.

  “Dude. I’m the COO, for chrissakes. Garrett can run things without me there. He has a big enough staff to run the damn White House. I can take off a few days to stay with my pain in the ass little brother if I want to. Besides I haven’t had a chance to see the shiny new penthouse you bought on that zillion dollar contract you got with the Winds.” He buckles himself in. I guess my pain in the ass brother is coming to stay with me for a few days.

  “It’s not a zillion dollars…but it’ll do,” I grumble. Other than never wanting to experience the kind of need I did when I lived on the streets, I give zero fucks about the money they give me to play hockey. My agent would stroke out if he heard me say I’d play for nothing if I could afford to eat and have a roof over my head. Still, if they want to pay me enough to buy a four-million-dollar condo, I’m not dumb enough to turn it down.

  Turning the key, the engine roars to life. I throw the gear shift into reverse. Before it’s completely stopped I slam it into drive. The tires respond with a loud screech and a cloud of burned rubber. Every guest waiting for a car turns to check out the lunatic leaving half his tires on the pavement.

  “Whoa, dude.” Batt reaches out and braces himself against the dashboard. “Take it easy. I have to get back to the studio eventually. I’d like it to be in one piece when I do.”

  Heading toward the 101, Batt’s words about my contract resonate inside my wind-blown head. It occurs to me, as it has before, he could be playing professional hockey too.

  As one of the best forwards on the Bernard team and in Division 1 hockey, he had offers from several teams. But instead, he chose to follow in his dad’s footsteps and get into the movie industry. He accepted the offer from Dalt’s brother, Garrett, and moved to LA to help run the studio they took over when their scumbag father was hauled off to prison for sexual assault and a boatload of other charges.

  With Batt’s help, they were able to turn a thriving studio into a billion-dollar industry. Still, I wonder if he’s ever regretted the decision to leave hockey. I don’t know how he did it. It’s the most important thing in my life. The only thing I can’t live without.

  But then it hits me like a punch to the gut. It’s not the only thing I can’t live without. In fact, it’s moved over and taken second place in my life, second place to Heaven. My life would suck if she weren’t in it.

  “You okay over there?” Batt yells over the gusty wind whooshing past our heads. “Why so quiet?”

  “You ever regret giving up hockey?” I blurt out the thought. “You could be playing in the pros now too.”

  “Nah. Don’t worry about me, man. I’m doing okay for myself. I make almost as much as you.” He laughs. He’s so full of shit. He makes more than me.

  “I don’t mean about the money, dipshit. I mean, you were really good, and you loved the adrenaline rush on the ice as much as I did. Don’t you miss it?”

  In my peripheral vision, I can see him tilt his head to one side like this is the first time he’s ever considered the question. “I don’t know. I miss it sometimes. I still play in a rec league, though. So, it’s all good. Anyway, I found something I love more.”

  I glance over at him. He’s grinning like he found Shangri-La and the rest of us are missing out. “Before you came along, I tagged after Dad to almost every movie set and location he was on to direct a film. I loved watching him take control, putting the whole thing together, getting the best from all the performers and people behind the scenes. Just getting the whole thing to work. And when I saw the finished product, I remember thinking Dad was a wizard, pulling everything together, making magic.”

  “So, you decided you wanted to be the next wizard?” I laugh. “Makes sense. I always knew you had a god complex,” I rag him.

  “Yeah. Something like that. I guess.” He chuckles. When I glance at him, he’s got a contemplative look on his face.

  “Shit, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…I mean, I didn’t consider how I was taking his time away from you.”

  “Who? Dad? Nah. You didn’t. After you came to live with us, I finally had the brother—the little brother—I always wanted.” He snickers.

  “You’re such an ass.” I shake my head, keeping my eyes fixed on the freeway and traffic ahead.

  “No. Seriously. Once you were a part of the family, I wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t need to be Dad’s shadow anymore. I had a brother. I wanted to hang with him as much as possible. Watch out for him. Teach him everything he knows but not quite everything I know.” Even with the taunting words, his candor shak
es me. Jesus. Where are my Wayfarers? This wind is making my eyes water.

  I pull my sunglasses off the visor and slip them on. I never thought about any of this before because I was too busy wallowing in my own sad story to realize the obvious.

  I’ve always been grateful for the way the Battaglias opened their arms and welcomed me into their family. But my stepping into the picture must have been as big a life-changing event for Batt as it was for me. And yet, he took on the role of my big brother without hesitation. Open arms, open heart. I guess because he never objected to me moving in on his territory, it made it easy for me to take everything he did for granted. I’m such a schmuck.

  “I mean, sure. You had some issues at first. You were an even bigger ass than you are now, but you eventually worked things out. And now you only annoy me half the time rather than all the time.” He laughs and smacks me on the back of the head.

  “Gee thanks, asshole.” He succeeds in making me feel a little less schmucky.

  “Anyway, I had already fallen in love with the movie business. Hockey was always going to be second place in my life. And when you fall in love with something so right, you don’t let it go. Ever. No matter how many distractions or other things get in the way.” I can feel his eyes drilling into me. As I said, he can read me like a book. “You going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I need to pummel it out of you like I did when we were kids?”

  “Pummel me?” I give him a sideways look. “We’re not kids anymore, bro. And I think the cushy executive job you have has taken its toll. Made you a little paunchy.” I reach over and tap his stomach, which is as rock hard as it’s always been. But I’m not about to tell him.

  “Oh yeah?” He shoves my hand away. “Maybe we should hit your glitzy gym when we get back to your place. We’ll see who’s paunchy.”

  “You’re on.” My relief at having distracted him from my issues is short-lived.

  “Is something going on between you and Heaven?” He gets right to the point I was hoping he wouldn’t reach.