by Avery Flynn
"It's not nothing." He held it out to the other guys. "Isn't she great?"
Nine voices murmured in agreement. Then, Rod pointed out the paintings she'd done around the shop and nine heads followed his tour and then turned in her direction, calling out numerous compliments, which brought more attention from the customers, and that all-too-familiar burn heated her cheeks. Eyes steady on Rod, she held out her hand for the pad.
He caught her hand in his and linked their fingers together and then stepped around to her side of the counter and drew her to his chest. "I can have the picture, right?"
Pleasure at his request spread warmth throughout her body. "If you want it."
"I do. It's the best gift I've ever received, next to the other picture you drew." He bent, and his lips teased over hers, lingering until catcalls from the guys reminded her that they weren't alone. Breathless, she drew away.
They were still in her brother's shop, after all, and she was on the clock.
Rod tore the sketch out of the book and set it next to his coffee.
"Blair can meet us at her gym in an hour." Dylan pocketed his phone and resumed his spot at the counter. "She likes training there. We should join it to make training together easier."
"We?" Celek gaped at him. "Since when are you in on giving this a try?"
Dylan gave his full attention to stirring his coffee. "She thought I was calling for Rod and myself."
"Any reason you didn't want to correct her?" Rod smirked and hit his brother's chest.
Dylan actually blushed. "It'll be good for brother bonding. And I thought it would be a fun thing to do."
"Whatever you say." Rod laughed and then turned to Celek. "I can’t wait to get started. Do we have enough time to check out bikes first?"
"If we head out now."
"Cool." Rod drew Arielle close once again. "What time are you finished?"
"Late. I'm closing tonight."
"Call me when you're done?"
She nodded and raised onto her toes to meet his waiting lips.
And then he was gone. Out the door, and on to new adventures.
Her sketch lay on the table—forgotten. She picked up the paper. For a long while, art was all she'd had. It had kept her busy during the lonely nights when Matt had been away and had given her life a purpose through teaching her students.
If Rod were to cast her aside as easily as he'd discarded the sketch or switched from one hobby to another, that would break her.
He didn't think anything at all about joining a local gym or starting a new program with a brand-new trainer when he might be on the other side of the country in a few weeks' time. He just dove in, all systems go.
Had he done that with her as well?
She wrapped her arms around her waist. Summer vacation was drawing to an end, and dreamy wishes needed to take a backseat to practicality. It was time to reset her boundaries and protect herself.
9
Rod poured after-dinner coffee into the five cups on his parents' kitchen table. His muscles ached from the long workout of biking and running with Celek, Blair, and Dylan. Rolling his shoulders, he set the empty coffeepot into a sink laden with dishes. He and Dylan's quick stop in on their way home had turned into staying for dinner and even though he'd helped cook, he was still going to have to Rock-Paper-Scissors his siblings to see who had to wash and who had to dry.
His dad snagged one of the mugs and set another in front of his mom. "Any word from Ernie?"
"Nothing." His agent had been silent. The days were ticking away, training camps getting closer and closer. Barring an injury to another goalie, his option to play for another team seemed bleaker and bleaker.
"Even if you're in New Orleans next year, it'll be okay." Kelsey patted his shoulder before she grabbed her coffee cup. He understood and appreciated her optimism, even though that option wasn’t the one he wanted.
"I guess. But I don't know how long the Rage will give me before they sign another backup. They have to plan for next season too." He'd thrown himself headlong into the triathlon training to avoid dwelling too much on his situation, but that hadn't worked. His mind cycled from one to the next, a crazy whirlwind that never ceased.
His mom touched his shoulder. "Maybe you should—"
Loud ringing jangled from his phone, and it vibrated on the table. His agent's name appeared on the display. He snatched it up. "It's Ernie."
Four pairs of eyebrows rose. He didn't want to deal with bad news in front of his family, so he stepped into the living room. Taking a deep breath, he answered. "Hello?"
"Rod, I have good news."
Hope laced with caution eased the pit in his stomach. "Good news is good." But it could mean so many different things.
"In this case, it's great. I just heard from the Bedlam's GM. The Bedlam want you."
No freaking way. Energy shot through his limbs and his breath caught in his lungs. He gripped the phone with a tingling hand. "Is this a joke? Because if it is, that's not funny, man."
"No joke. Pavel isn't coming back. He doesn't want to leave his pregnant wife. The organization was impressed with your performance during your get-togethers with the players. They went back and looked at the film of your time in net this past season. They feel you'll be a good fit with your talent and your chemistry with the other players too. You have a one-year deal. If all goes well, we'll be negotiating something long-term at the end of the season."
"That's… That's… I can't believe it. I'm psyched." Even if he didn't get the starter job—and he was going to fight like hell to make sure he did—playing for his hometown team would be amazing.
The buzzing in his ears competed with Ernie's voice. "You'll still have to prove yourself in training camp, but Mintner's record wasn't as good as yours, and you've been proving yourself with these practices already. To me, it sounds like the team wants you to take Pavel's top spot. They really are going to give you a fair chance to fight for it. Congratulations. I'll be in touch."
Rod cleared his throat. "Thanks, man."
He ended the call and stared out the window. Sunset colored the sky in streaks of red and orange. His surroundings were the same, but one phone call and mere minutes had changed everything.
The Bedlam. He was going to be playing for the Bedlam.
Like his dad.
Like his brother.
With his brother.
Rod stared at the phone. Then checked the call log to make sure he hadn't imagined it.
Dylan leaned in from the doorway. "Rod? Everything okay?"
"Uh, yeah." Pocketing his phone, he gestured toward the kitchen. "Come on. I'll tell everyone at once."
He still didn't feel like it was real. He leaned against the kitchen counter, gripping it with tingling fingers, and his parents, Kelsey, and Dylan waited for him to speak.
He took a breath, shook his head, and said the words he'd never thought he'd have a chance to say. "I'm now a member of the Bedlam."
His parents and Kelsey jumped up and cheered.
"Seriously?" Dylan hugged him hard, then pulled away. "How? What happened?"
"Pavel isn't coming back. He doesn't want to leave his wife."
"He was so homesick all of last season. When he missed his flight saying he was sick, I'd wondered if something was up."
His mom pushed her way in. "I can't believe you're going to be playing here. I'm so happy."
"Me too." His dad grabbed him in a big bear hug. "I know it's something you've always wanted. It's something I've always wanted too. And now, having both my boys together on my old team, well, it's pretty damn special."
Dylan grinned and toasted him with his coffee. "I guess I'll have to get used to sharing the house year-round."
"I promise to continue stealing your food from the fridge if that will help you." Rod grinned back.
"Funny. I still haven't forgotten about you eating that cake. But, having you here is going to be awesome. We can ride together to practices and games."
Rod nodded. It would be great to be able to talk things over, and celebrate together after wins, or commiserate after losses—just like they'd done back in high school.
Kelsey hugged him. "I'll help you terminate or sublet your apartment lease in New Orleans, and help you get a moving company and have all your stuff packed and shipped here."
"That's nice of you."
She ruffled his hair. "It's also my job. Player services, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Right." He smiled and shrugged. Excitement had addled his brain.
She poked him in the side. "I bet Arielle's going to be thrilled when she finds out."
Being able to stay with Arielle was like an extra shot of espresso in his coffee cup of happiness. He'd even settle for being the backup, and would do it happily, if it meant the chance to be with her. That knowledge struck him in the chest and warmth radiated out. He'd gone way past falling for her. He loved her. And he had to tell her. Now. He pushed away from the counter. "I have to go to her."
"Go on. I'll catch a ride home from Kelsey." Dylan waved him off.
Rod grabbed his keys and headed for his SUV. Sounds from the hot summer night drifted around him, and all he wanted to do was shout his good news from the rooftops. He settled for getting in his car and blasting music from his workout play list.
Arielle hadn't seemed like herself for the past few days. Maybe she was worried about what would happen when the season started. Maybe she worried about the distance and being apart from each other, or if he'd want her to go with him—and he would, if he were leaving. He'd wished she'd talk to him. Speculating was hell.
But that wouldn't be a problem now.
He accelerated the car down slowly darkening streets. He couldn't wait to share the news.
Arielle sat at on the couch, staring at the empty shot glass in her hand and the stack of bills on the coffee table.
She hadn't gotten the job.
Mr. Giorgio's voice echoed in her head. "I've chosen a candidate who I believe will be better suited for the position."
Right.
Better suited.
As in, one who hadn't run him down because she'd been distracted by her thoughts. Or, one who hadn't stammered her way through an interview because her ex's cheating face had been in her view the entire time.
Goddamn it.
What the hell was she going to do now?
The doorbell rang, followed by knocking on the door. She pushed to her feet and padded to the front door. Ben had gone to pick up Jacob from their parents' house. Had he forgotten his key?
One look out the window ratcheted up her heartbeat. Rod stood on the porch, grinning like he knew the world's best secret.
She pressed her hand to her stomach to quell the nerves and the butterflies and the queasiness and then opened the door.
He swept her into his arms and spun her in a circle.
She grabbed hold of his shoulders as the living room and open front door whirled by. "Whoa. What's going on?"
"I'll be playing for the Bedlam this season. I just found out."
Her jaw fell slack, and her mind spun processing the information. He was staying? But how? "What?"
He slowly slid her down until her feet touched the floor. "Their hot-shot rookie from last year misses his home and family too much, so he's not coming back. And while that's a shame for him, it's great for me. I'll have to fight for the starting job, but I think there's a great chance I'll get it."
Digging past her hurt and worry was difficult as she tried to summon elation for him. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you. I know how much you wanted to play for them."
Rod's twinkling eyes narrowed, and he studied her face. "You don't seem as happy as I thought you'd be. You don't seem happy at all."
Her shoulders sagged and she gave up trying. "I'm not happy. I just heard from the principal. I didn't get the job."
Concern creased his features and his hands caressed her shoulders. "I'm sorry."
Leaning into him was easy and immediate, and she soaked up the caring like a dry sponge touching water. "What the hell am I going to do?"
"You'll apply for another one."
She pushed away and paced to the middle of the living room. "Do you know what time of year it is? There aren't any teaching positions available now. And it's not only teaching positions, I've been on other interviews for other jobs too and no one wants me. Do you know what that feels like?"
"Actually, I do. Up until tonight, I've felt that way about the other teams."
"Then you know it sucks." She pointed to the stack of bills on the table. "Want to take a guess at how well it goes over when you call and tell them that you're trying your best but are still having a hard time paying? Not well at all. No one cares."
"If you need money, I can help—"
"No." She shook her head. "That wasn't why I told you. I already owe so many people. I don't need to add your name to the list, and I don't know when I'd be able to pay you back."
"I wouldn't expect it back. It would be a gift."
The fact that he'd offer, so quickly and sweetly and generously, meant the world. "I appreciate it, but no. Money changes relationships."
"Not if you don't let it."
She blinked away forming tears and stared at the gorgeous man in front of her. He had everything he wanted. And he also held the power to break her heart. "I put my life on hold for years for Matt. To follow him around from city to city. Rather than putting myself and my career first, I put love first. And look where it got me. Close to thirty with so much debt it makes my head hurt and almost zero advancement in my chosen field. That's failure. That's awful. It's more than awful—it's pathetic."
"It's not pathetic."
"No?" She laughed but the sound was flat, bitter, and defeated. "It sure feels like it."
Putting love first had been a mistake once before. And she was teetering on the edge of falling in love again. Hell, who was she kidding? She was already in a free-fall and too many unknowns lurked like sharks circling prey. Sheer panic pounded through her blood.
"We need to talk." The words were flowing, and her pulse thrummed wildly. She gripped her hands together and studied the floor while her heart ripped wide open. "I don't think we should see each other anymore."
Deafening silence stretched out for a long, long moment. Then Rod closed the front door. Rough fingers touched her chin and lifted until she met his grim expression, the ticking muscle in his jaw, and his burning gaze. "Care to share how you came to this conclusion?"
She swallowed hard. "I can't go through what I did with Matt."
His fingers tightened. "I'm not him."
The room seemed to close in on her. She squirmed away from his hold. "You don't understand."
He squinted at her like she was a complicated offensive play he needed to break down and then shook his head. "Obviously not. So help me."
"Who knows how long you'll be here with the team? Who knows how long I'll be here? No one is hiring me. I'm fed up, and I'm feeling swallowed up, and I don't know what to do."
"I'm here. I'll be here all of next season."
"But what about after that? And still—I can't find a job. I'm going to have to leave. But how can I go if you're here? Or how am I supposed to pay down the growing pile of money I owe if I'm moving and changing jobs every few years to follow you to a new team?"
"If we're together, what's mine is yours."
"If we're together…" She finally gave voice to the question that had been circling in her mind since their first kiss. "How do I know I'm not just the next new thing for you, and you'll toss me away when the thrill has worn off?"
His brows rose, his mouth opened, and he took a step forward. "Ari… How could you think that?"
"You jump headlong into things. You always have. Look at your track record: the drafting table from the time you took those few art lessons, the snowboard you used three times, the climbing gear you only used that one summer a few years ago… I could go on a
nd on." She tossed her curls out of her face. She knew her words weren't rational, but she couldn't stop them, and she couldn't make him understand. "You lose interest pretty fast and cast them aside and are on to the next thing. Just like yesterday, with how quickly everything morphed with the triathlon training."
He blinked, rubbed his hands over his face, and then blinked again. "I've never given you a reason to doubt me."
"No? Then I guess we aren't looking at things the same way." So many thoughts and scenarios muddled together, and in all of them, all she could see was Rod changing his mind, and her being stuck alone somewhere, and the giant debt that loomed over her every day.
"I don't know what to say to make you believe me. You agreed to give us a chance."
Crossing her arms over her chest didn't stop the fear from seeping into her. "I did. And now I'm saying that it was a mistake."
"You think you're the only one who took risks when we got together?" His eyes blazed, and his body drew up tight, making him even larger. "You think you're the only one with worries and fears? If we're judging things based on past performance, then maybe I should worry about how you turned a blind eye to Matt for so long."
She gasped as the words sliced into her as sharp as a blade. "I didn't know about the cheating."
"No? You realized something was off in the relationship, though, and you kept letting it go. I know that much from conversations with Ben and my sister. Same thing with Matt's continued postponing of the engagement ring he promised you. You let him off the hook a ton of times, according to Ben. Do you think I wasn't worried that you'd keep quiet on things about me that upset you too? I want a partner, not someone who hides problems under a rug or in a sketchbook."
The words scored a direct hit and the ache in her heart spread throughout her body. She'd been too shy, too quiet, and too stupid for too long in her relationship with Matt, and she'd probably be paying for it for years. The fact that Rod knew so many details… Embarrassment bloomed into an overwhelming need to run—or hide. And his questions about her were valid, and made her feel so much worse. Arielle pointed to the front door. "You should go before one of us gets hurt."
