Only One Night (Only One Series 3)

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Only One Night (Only One Series 3) Page 11

by Natasha Madison

I laugh at her, smiling as I answer.

  Me: If you want, I can massage you tonight.

  Peter: If it’s the massage I’m thinking of, that isn’t going to help anything. I literally groaned when I got up.

  The smile on my face is permanent, and when I walk into the gym, I’m not surprised to see Ralph and Miller both on the bikes. They look over at me, and Miller stops pedaling right away. He looks around, and when he sees it’s just the three of us, he points at me.

  “You had sex.” He looks at Ralph, who stops pedaling to take a drink of water. “And he did it all night long.”

  “What?” I ask, shocked, and I walk to the door of the gym and lock it in case someone tries to come in while we are talking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I don’t make eye contact with him as my phone buzzes in my hand, and I look down, seeing it’s Evelyn.

  “I’m talking about the circles under your eyes.” Miller points at me. “It means you didn’t sleep.”

  “This could be true,” Ralph agrees with him, and I roll my eyes.

  “And you didn’t come in dragging your ass, so . . .” He shrugs. “That means you’re happy you stayed up all night.”

  “That is definitely true. Remember last week when Ariella kept us up all night teething? I was not a nice person the next day. I definitely didn’t smile.” Ralph looks over at Miller, who nods his head. “Coach sent me home five minutes into practice.”

  “He did,” I agree with them, and then I look down, and I look up. “I was with Evelyn last night.” They both look at each other and then back at me. “The redhead.”

  “The hot chick from the club,” Miller says, and I’m about to throat punch him when Ralph puts up his hand to stop me.

  “What did we talk about?” He looks at Miller. “How do you feel when someone says they love Layla’s ass?” Miller, in turn, glares at him. “Exactly,” he tells him, then turns to look at me. “How the fuck did you find her?”

  “Um.” I think about how to word this. “I found her last week. She was with Jaxon.”

  “Your son?” Miller asks, and then Ralph gasps, and Miller’s eyes go wide. “Oh my fucking god, you banged a hockey mom.” He doesn’t even give me a chance to answer before he gets off his bike. “Dude, a fucking hockey mom?” His voice goes high, and Ralph shushes him. “A hockey mom?” he whispers. “How big is the father?” he asks with his hands on his hips. “I mean, you’re a monster, so I think you can probably take him unless the guy is like a sumo wrestler or a cop.” He puts his hands to his mouth. “I saw a Dateline episode with Layla the other day. The cop killed the ex-wife’s lover, and they didn’t know for twenty-seven years.”

  “Does he come with an off button when he gets like this?” Ralph looks at me and asks, and I shrug. “Miller, can you fucking relax and let him talk?”

  “Thank you,” I say to both of them. “She’s the aunt of Jaxon’s best friend.”

  “Oh my god,” Ralph now says, laughing. “What are the fucking odds?”

  “Slim to none,” Miller says.

  “Yeah, well, it went from amazing to see her to miserable when Murielle showed up and was all over me,” I tell them, and Ralph’s and Miller’s face both show disgust.

  “That’s why you were dragging your ass last week,” Ralph says, and I nod.

  “Jesus, I thought someone killed your dog,” Miller says, and I laugh.

  “I don’t have a dog,” I tell him. “Anyway, she sent me away, and yesterday when we got back home, I just went to her.”

  “Nice.” Miller smiles and folds his arms over his chest. “Went to get your woman.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I say. “But I’m married, guys.”

  “I mean, on paper,” Ralph says.

  “What would you do if the roles were reversed?” Miller says, looking at Ralph. “If Candace was married to an asshole and went home to him every night.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Ralph agrees. “Did you talk to her?”

  “I did a bit this morning, and then she had to go, so I’m going to talk to her tonight.” I look down and then look up. “I’ve never felt this connection before. I’ve never wanted to even take that step with anyone. It was Jaxon and me, and in two years, I was going to force Murielle to divorce me. I had a plan, but . . .”

  “Sometimes plans change,” Ralph says. “Look at me. I had Ari, and my main goal was to be her dad.” He smiles so big. “And then Candace fell into my lap.”

  “Same,” Miller says, and I laugh at him now.

  “Dude, Layla fought you for four years. She hated your guts.” I point at him. The two of them, well actually, it was just her that hated him. He was in love with her, and he wasn’t quiet about it.

  “Hate is a strong word,” he says, and now he smiles the same smile as Ralph did. I have to wonder if I will ever get to smile like that. “But in the end, I wore her down.”

  “I have never felt this way before,” I tell them. “This fucking pull toward one person.” I shake my head. “I just never had it before, so it’s foreign to me. I know I love my son. There is no mistaking that. I would die for him. But with Evelyn, I want to make her happy. I want her to smile at me all the time. I just can’t explain it.”

  “Falling in love,” Ralph says. “It’s the best fucking feeling in the world.”

  “Waking up next to her,” I say, and I can’t even hide my smile. “I had this fucking feeling as though I’ve been doing it my whole life. Like this is where I’m supposed to be. All that was missing was Jaxon.”

  “Listen, man,” Miller says. “There is nothing more I want for you than for you to be happy.” I look at him. “But fucking over Murielle is going to make your fucking life hell. Like what is under hell.”

  “Burning hell,” Ralph says. “I agree with Miller, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if this is how you feel, then I say go for it, but you have to tell Evelyn what she is up against.”

  “I told her,” I tell them, and now they look at me shocked. “Everything.”

  “Everything?” They both repeat at the same time.

  “Everything, right down to the trainer fucking Murielle in my basement.”

  “She’s it,” Ralph says. “She is it for you.”

  I don’t tell him he’s right because I’m afraid to admit that. “I don’t know,” I say, playing it off, and now I look at Miller.

  “How many times do the puck bunnies throw themselves at you?” he asks, and I don’t answer. He knows because he sees it. It’s about twenty each time we land in a new city. They find our hotel, and they wait for us and attack once we get back. “How many times were you tempted to take one up on their offer?” I glare at him. “But one look at Evelyn.”

  “She deserves more than I have to give her.” I admit my biggest fear to them. “She deserves someone who will take her out and wine and dine her, not someone who will keep her a fucking dirty secret.”

  “I think you need to leave that up to her,” Ralph says. “Don’t throw her away because of your fears. Lay it out for her and let her make the decision.”

  I nod. Someone knocks on the door, and I get up to unlock it. “Sorry about that. It got stuck.” I pretend, and the rookie nods his head at me.

  Miller and Ralph slap me on the shoulder and walk out of the gym, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I get on the bike and ride for two hours, my mind going nuts. A plan comes to me, and I text the only person I know who can help me with this.

  Becca: Need your help. Call me.

  I get home at the same time that Jaxon gets off the bus. He runs to me, and I swing him in my arms. “Hey there, buddy,” I say, kissing his neck. “I missed you.” I do his homework with him after we eat, and then I tuck him into bed, and when I walk out of his room, Murielle walks through the front door.

  I grab my phone and keys. “He just went down. Call me if he needs me.”

  “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “Meeting with Becca,”
I say, and she just nods as I walk out.

  Chapter 20

  Evelyn

  “Hey, if you don’t need anything else, I’m going to head out,” my personal assistant, Chantal, says. I look up at her from the paper that I’m reading. She has been working with my father for the past year, and he handed her off to me, and I have to say I don’t know how I would do it without her. “Do you have big plans this weekend?”

  I smile at her. “Not that I know of. I have a lot of files to catch up on,” I say, and it’s not exactly a lie.

  “Well, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” she says, laughing. “My grandmother always tells me that.”

  I laugh now. “I have never heard that. But I will keep that in mind. Have a great weekend, Chantal.”

  She nods at me and takes off. My computer beeps with an email alert, and I see it’s from Dex. I roll my eyes and open the email.

  From: Dex Lennon

  To: Evelyn

  Subject: Checking in.

  Wondering how you are. Thought I’d reach out. Give me a call.

  Dex

  I delete the message without thinking twice, and then my phone beeps, and I look down, seeing a text message from Manning.

  Manning: I miss you.

  Three words. Three words and my face lights up like a Christmas tree. Three words and my stomach gets little butterflies. I’m looking down at the message, and my phone rings in my hand, and I see it’s Dex. I think about sending it to voice mail or even blocking his number, but something else gets me.

  “Hello,” I say, putting the phone to my ear and turning in my chair.

  “Evelyn.” He says my name, and it does nothing to me. I don’t want to smile; I don’t want to sigh. It does nothing to me. “I didn’t think you would answer.”

  “Is that why you called?” I ask, putting my head back.

  “No,” he says, and his voice goes low. “I’m just surprised. I’ve been calling you for the last two weeks.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I say curtly. “What do you want?”

  “I . . . I miss you,” he says, and unlike the feelings I felt when Manning just texted me those three words, with him, I don’t feel anything. I’ve known Manning less than a month, and I already feel more for him than I think I ever felt for Dex.

  “What do you miss?” I ask, wondering if maybe he’s going to say something to make me remember why I fell for him.

  “I miss us,” he says. “I miss going home and having you there.”

  “Do you miss me before or after you fuck Ally and Joshua?” I ask, my voice going low.

  “I can explain,” he says, and I roll my eyes.

  “There is really not anything that you can say that will explain that, Dex,” I tell him. “It’s not like you wake up one day and decide to become a vegetarian. You’re bisexual, but instead of having a conversation with me—”

  “You were never supposed to find out,” he says. “We should have been more careful.”

  “Well, I think you guys were as careful as thieves in the night since I only found out now.” I wait to see if the hurt is going to come, and I’m shocked when it doesn’t. I feel nothing for him. I don’t even feel hurt because he did it. My mind flies to Manning. When I walked away from him, it hurt me harder and deeper than it did with Dex.

  At this moment, I know that Dex was never the one. “Dex,” I say, “I’m going to be honest with you. I think we were together because it was the right thing to do. We were just there for each other, and it just made sense, but if we are honest, we didn’t fall head over heels in love with each other. Fuck, I think the only reason you miss me right now is that you hate change. You hate going home by yourself.”

  “But I love you,” he says, and I shake my head.

  “You think you love me. But if you loved me, you would never think about touching another person. I have to go, Dex. I hope you find that person.”

  I hang up, and my eyes stare at the phone in my hand.

  Tim comes in. “Hey, I’m out.” I turn now, seeing his head peeking in the room.

  “What are you wearing?” I ask, and I see the Dallas jersey.

  “I’m wearing the Dallas jersey,” he says, pointing at his chest. He turns, and I see that it has Manning’s last name on it. “It’s Jaxon’s dad’s jersey.” I try not to smile when I think of him.

  He left my bed this morning before the sun came up. Ever since he showed up at my house two days ago, I’ve fallen asleep in his arms. It still bothers me that he’s technically married, but I try not to harp too much on it. It’s always there in the back of my head, though, like the devil sitting on your shoulder, letting you know how fucked up it is. “Nico, the owner of the team, is my client, and he gave me tickets to his box tonight.”

  “That is a good thing?” I ask, not sure, and he just looks at me with his mouth open.

  “Nico, the owner of the team. He’s huge. I mean, not huge, but he’s getting there. He is the youngest owner of a team there has ever been. He’s even younger than you.” He points at me and winks when I flip him the bird. “Anyway, watch the game. You might see me on television.”

  “Or,” I say, putting my elbows on my desk and leaning forward on them. “You can let me know if I missed you.” He laughs and walks out of my office at the exact time my phone rings. I look down, seeing the man who has me in knots. Also, the man who has made me look like I went hardcore at the gym. When I came to work yesterday, I swear I felt like he was still in me. It took me time to set to a standing position and even a sitting one. I blamed it on leg day, but if only they knew. “Well, hello there, you,” I say, smiling.

  “Hey, baby,” he says, his voice soft and all the doubts I’ve had before are out the window. Just the sound of his voice and my chest fills with so many emotions. “Are you free to talk?”

  “I am,” I say, leaning back in my chair, and I hear a horn honk. “Are you in the car?”

  “Yeah, I’m on the way to the arena,” he says. “We play Carolina tonight.”

  “I know,” I tell him. “My brother just left here wearing your jersey. He is going to be in a box somewhere.”

  “You should have come with him,” he tells me, laughing.

  “I’m going to just say it right now. I don’t really get hockey. I know of it. I lived in Chicago where they won the cup a couple of times,” I tell him.

  “A couple of times.” He laughs. “They won three cups in ten years.”

  “I’m assuming that’s good?” I joke with him. “How was your day?”

  “Good. I had practice this morning, then went home, napped, and now I’m on my way to the rink. We leave Monday for four days,” he tells me. “Back Friday.” I try not to think about how this is all going to work. It’s the first time I’ve dated someone since before Dex and I don’t know the do’s and don’t’s right now. “Just got to work. I’ll call you after.”

  “Good luck. Score a hat trick,” I tell him, and he laughs. “I mean, if you can.”

  “I’ll try, Evelyn,” he says and disconnects. I get up now, closing everything down and heading home.

  I slip out of my jeans and take a quick shower, then order Chinese food. I’m watching Unsolved Mysteries when I hear a soft knock on the door. Looking at my phone, I see it’s almost eleven.

  Unlocking the door, I’m surprised to see Manning standing there, dressed in a blue suit this time, holding on to a brown takeout bag. “How do you just open the door without asking who it is?” He asks, walking in the door and wrapping his arm around my waist and bending down to kiss me. He smells like he just got out of the shower. “I could have been anyone.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him, my heart suddenly speeding up. He picks me up to walk into the house and close the door behind him with his foot. “I didn’t think I would see you.”

  “There is nowhere else I want to be,” he says softly, and I wrap my arms around his neck now. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, to
o,” I tell him the truth. He puts me down now, and I walk, holding his hand to the kitchen. “Did you bring food?” I ask him, and he nods his head. “Sit down,” I tell him, taking the bag. “I’ll prepare it for you.” I grab the bag from him and put it on the counter, going over to the plates. “What are you doing?” I ask him when he just stands there. “Sit,” I tell him, and he shrugs off his jacket, and he looks at me weird. “What is going on with you?”

  “It’s just.” He starts to say, sitting down on one of the stools and looks at me. “I usually do everything myself.”

  I look at him and open the bags, not sure I can say anything right now. “Did you get your hat trick?” I ask, taking out the black container and seeing a prepared meal.

  “I did not,” he says, laughing, and I open the fridge and get him a bottle of water, bringing it to him, thinking he must be thirsty. I hand it to him, and he grabs my hand and pulls me to him. “Hi,” he whispers, his hand wrapping around my waist. I look up at him, and he bends down to close the distance, and our lips meet. “Best thing after a game,” he says to me, and his phone starts ringing. I kiss him on his lips one more time before walking back over to do a plate for him.

  “Did you win?” I ask, handing him his plate and going to get cutlery.

  “We did,” he says, and I clap my hands together, making him laugh, and I hand him a fork and knife.

  “I brought you one, too,” he says, pointing at the bag that still has the meal in it. “Thought we could eat together.”

  “I had Chinese food,” I tell him. “I didn’t even know you were coming if you told me.” I get up, getting my own bottle of water, and then going to sit next to him. “Tell me.” I look at him, seeing the back of his hair still wet. My hand comes out automatically, and I touch it. “What do you do after a game usually?”

  “It’s a bit nuts,” he says. “Everyone usually does it differently. The rookies usually hit up a restaurant together. The ‘old ones’ usually just go home. Me,” he says, cutting a piece of chicken. “I usually eat and then watch television until about two. Let the adrenaline leave my body.”

 

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