by Avery Flynn
"I think the hurting's already been done." The flash of pain faded away from his face, leaving it carefully devoid of emotion. He pulled the door open. "I'm sorry I was so wrong about you. I'm sorry both of us wasted our time."
The door closed at his back.
She sank onto the couch and sobbed.
Goddamn it. What a night.
Rod screeched the car to a halt in the garage, and then slammed his way through the door leading into the kitchen. The reverberation echoed throughout the house.
Dylan met him in the kitchen, carrying a book and a glass of water. "What the hell? Try not to knock down the walls."
Rod bit back his retort. He tossed his keys onto the counter, and they skittered across the granite and fell to the floor. His muscles burned. God, he wanted to hit something.
Dylan set down his book and glass and retrieved the keys. "Hold up. You should be on top of the world right now. What's wrong?"
"Ari dumped me."
His brother gaped at him. "Why?"
"She doesn't think I'm serious. She thinks I'm going to ditch her because of my," he paused to make air quotes, "track record of how fast I go through hobbies."
"How does that even make sense?"
"I don't know… But it's clear as fucking crystal in her head."
"You told her you're going to be playing here next year?"
"Doesn't matter, man. She doesn't think I'm into her enough to stick around permanently."
He stomped down the hall to the spare room. He'd never seen anything wrong with all of the hobbies he'd tried. Why the hell would she equate herself with one anyway? And why couldn't she trust him?
He grabbed a box from the closet and began throwing things in at random. He wanted it gone. Now.
"Here." Dylan came in, carrying two cups of coffee. "This will make you feel better."
"No thanks."
Dylan set them on an old desk and then pressed his palm to Rod's forehead, just like their mom used to do when checking for a temperature. "You've never turned down coffee in your life."
He pushed his brother's hand away. "Come on, man. I'm not in the mood for joking around."
"I actually wasn't joking. Happy, sad, angry, and everything in between, you're always in the mood for coffee. So the fact that you don't want it is huge. If you want to talk about what happened with Arielle, I'll listen. If you don't, then maybe we should go to the gym and work off your steam. Or I'll leave you alone. Your call."
"Stay. Help me box things up." He gestured at the equipment and items around them. "I want it all out of here."
They worked in silence for a while. Dylan didn't force him to talk about Arielle or make jokes about any of the things he shoved in boxes or bags. The silent, solid support meant a lot.
Then Rod reached the art supplies and drafting table, and fresh hurt and anger surged through his blood. "I went over there feeling on top of the world. So sure she'd be thrilled with the news. But no. Instead, she's telling me that she didn't get the teaching job, and she can't find any job, and then that morphed into telling me we made a mistake. Apparently, I have the attention span of a gnat when it comes to holding an interest in something, and she thinks she's just the next in line."
"You guys had a fight?"
"More like loud talking in angry voices. And some hurtful things may have been said on both sides. I just don't get it, man. I mean, where did this come from? She was fine a few days ago. At least, I thought she was. If it's the job, I offered to help her if she needed money, but she wouldn't take it."
"Not having a job and not being able to find one for a long time is a scary thing. I can understand that. I can also understand not wanting to take money from someone."
"Me too, I guess, but I want to help her. I don't care about the money. I care about her." He stretched and sighed. "Even if I was able to help her find a job that she could keep no matter where I end up playing, that doesn't account for what she said about my track record, or about how she's not sure I'm serious about her."
"Maybe seeing Matt again reminded her of how bad things had gotten between them. Or how he was a cheating loser."
"If that asshole is the reason she walked away…" He dropped his old boxing gloves and sparring pads into a bag, then added the rock climbing gear.
How was trying new things wrong? If something intrigued, wasn't it worth further exploration? He understood that people could get together and then figure out they weren't compatible. Or that while one person was the other's everything, it wasn't always reciprocated. But he and Arielle shared a connection that ran deep.
He'd thought of Arielle as the other half of his heart. But maybe he wasn't hers. Or maybe being that for each other just wasn't enough.
With a sigh, he set the bag down and paced the room. "Maybe there was a reason we'd never gotten together before. Maybe the universe was keeping us apart for our own good. Maybe we really don't fit or belong together."
Dylan snorted. "Anyone who has seen the two of you together can see that you're perfect for each other."
"I'd thought so. But it won't work if she doesn't trust me. Or if I can't trust her to be open about her feelings and not keep things bottled up. I didn't see what happened tonight coming at all."
"You're not a mind reader. But now that the air has more or less been cleared, and you both know where the other is coming from, you have a choice. Do you fight for what you want or do you walk away?"
The beat of his heart told him the answer. "I don't want to lose her."
"Then you have to do something to prove that you're serious about her."
Rod nodded. He understood that. He really did. And he was ready to do whatever it took. "But what?"
"Drink your coffee, maybe it will spark something brilliant."
He smirked at his brother, but picked up the coffee. "It's cold."
"So warm it up."
He was nice and carried both his mug and Dylan's to the kitchen, and even placed Dylan's in the microwave first. His gaze drifted to the table, where he and Arielle had shared dinner and morning coffee together, and to the spot where he'd kissed her and told her that there was no one else who'd made him feel the way she did.
Dylan came in and leaned on the counter. "If it's solely a trust issue, only time will show her that you're all-in."
He rubbed his hand over his heart. "I'm ready to give her forever. I just don't know what to do to convince her of how I feel."
10
Nightmares of fighting with Rod, of being cast aside by Kelsey and Ben and being left all alone, plagued her dreams. Arielle stumbled into the spare bedroom and stared at the blank canvas waiting on her easel. Paint perfumed the air, comfortable and familiar. She sipped coffee from her art school mug and peered at the colors she'd set out before heading to the coffee pot.
Caffeine cleared the mist of dreams, but reality called for something stronger, like vodka or a getaway car. Only, she couldn't get away. She was stuck here in the same town as Rod, and likely to run into him often. At least for the upcoming year. Her friendship with Kelsey would no doubt be strained, and she wasn't sure what would happen when Rod stopped into the coffee shop, or she saw him with Ben and Jacob. Or what would she do the first time she saw him with a date.
At the very idea, despair sliced into her stomach. She set the coffee aside and slashed angry red on the canvas. So many things were going to change.
The door opened then closed behind her. Ben strode into the room. "Okay, what's wrong?"
She added more red. "Wrong?"
"You've been painting like crazy for the past week." He gestured to the canvasses lining the walls of the room. The chaotic swirls of color showed her moods and emotions. "You haven't been on a tear like this since you broke up with Matt."
Her chest tightened in the space where her heart had once beat joyfully. She grabbed a new brush and spattered black over the red.
"You also haven't been sleeping well or eating enough, or seen or mentioned R
od. And he hasn't been to the coffee shop."
More black met the canvas as the storm inside her whirled.
"Even Jacob has noticed that something's wrong. Are you still upset over losing that job? Talk to me." He pulled the paintbrush from her grasp.
With something close to a snarl, she tossed her hair out of her face and wiped her hands on a rag. "Rod and I are finished."
His brows shot up and then his eyes narrowed, and her protective older brother expression schooled his features into stone. "What happened?"
"I made so many mistakes with Matt. I didn't want a repeat of them with Rod."
"Why would you think that would happen?"
"You know what happened—I spent so many years following Matt around, and could only get part-time or substitute teaching positions. I never had a chance to gain any ground, and I'm going nowhere. I owe so much on those loans, and that car loan too. If I follow Rod around, the same thing's going to happen. I'll never get ahead."
"Rod is on a higher level than Matt. Yes, there's a chance Rod could be traded, but he hasn't hopped around teams with the frequency that Matt has."
She inhaled deep while her thoughts spun into a tornado rivaling the swirls on the canvas. "He told the reporter at the ceremony that he'd play in Europe if given the chance."
"So?"
"So…" She blinked at him. "He never talked to me about that. Never told me he was considering it, or what he thought about it, or whether he even really wanted to do it."
"He hasn't heard anything great from any teams in the league, so he's not going to burn any bridges or turn away any potential opportunities. He couldn't say no on camera."
That made sense. Her shoulders sagged. "It hurt my feelings that he never discussed it with me."
Ben gently touched her shoulder. "I get it. I do. And if he seriously was considering it, then he should have, considering how he seems to feel about you. You care about him a lot, hmm?"
She sighed and walked to the window. Gray skies and a steady drizzle, the world matched her mood. "At the ceremony, Matt said…"
"Shit." Ben joined her at the window. "What the hell did that idiot say to you?"
"That I wasn't anything special, that Rod would grow bored with me, and that all the women who would be hanging around him and opportunities coming his way, especially now that he's won the Cup, would be too much to resist."
"Screw what Matt said. He's an immature asshole who doesn't know the first thing about how to treat a woman or have a relationship, which you should know better than anyone. Why the hell would you listen to him?"
"We were together for a long time. And he knows what it's like to have all that attention from the female fans."
Ben dragged his hands through his hair. "God. Ari, listen. Rod's been my best friend for twelve years. And he's been dealing with all that attention for a while, in the three years he's been with the Rage, and the five years he was in the minors before that, and hell, even back in college. But in all that time, the only woman Rod has mentioned with any consistency is you."
Rod's words, how he'd had a thing for her for years, echoed in her head. She wrapped her arms around her waist. "I guess… I guess I was scared. I was a naive idiot when it came to Matt, and it crushed me. I can't go through that again with Rod. It would do more than crush me. It would shatter me."
Her whispered admission hung in the air. Saying the words out loud made them even more real.
Ben guided her over to the small couch by the window on the opposite side of the room. He moved two canvasses aside and then gestured for her to sit. "If I look back on things over the years, I can see hints of how Rod felt about you. He'd always ask about you whenever we spoke. Always. And the way he's looked at you since he's been back has been the way he's looked at you for a while. He really hasn't dated all that much over the years, and never anything serious. And before you fly off the handle and worry that he's not serious about you, well, I think he was always waiting for you."
Waiting all that time? For her? Was she really that special to him? Arielle glanced at the sketch of him with the Cup lying on the small table by the couch. She wanted to believe it was true. But the one worry wouldn't fade. "What if he's really just caught up in the thrill of a new experience? You know his habit of picking up and then dropping hobbies. What if I'm going to be cast aside when the thrill has worn off?"
"Knowing him the way I do, I don't think that's true. But that's a risk you have to take. You came home with your heart broken and you rebuilt your life. Yes, that sucked, but you're stronger than you know. You could pick up the pieces again if you had to."
"You helped me do it, giving me a place to stay and a job and a shoulder to cry on. I'm so grateful that you were always here for me."
"I'll always be here for you. Jacob will too." He hugged her. "You were there for me when Cassandra died. And you've helped take care of Jacob. We stick together, no matter what."
"Thank you." She pulled away. "But what am I going to do about another job? You can't afford to give me more hours at the coffee shop, and I can't get anyone else to give me a chance. You can't be thrilled that I'm still living in your house either."
"We'll work it out. Don't worry. It's been great having you here, and you can stay as long as you need. I was thinking you could hang some more art on the walls at the shop and we can try to sell it. It's not much, but it's a start."
"I can do that. I'll try anything."
"You've been at this job search for so long. Something will turn up soon."
"I hope so." She leaned over and picked up the sketch of Rod. "I keep trying."
"I want you to talk to Rod." Ben raised his brow and then his hand and he pointed to the sketch. "Talk to him. You can't base decisions on worry or fear. You need to talk things out."
If she did go all-in into a relationship with Rod and then lose him, it would gut her. But Ben was right. Just like a bone healed stronger after a break, the past year had shown she was stronger than she'd believed, shyness and all. "I don't want to make a mistake."
"Life's full of them, and you can't let that hold you back. You need to decide what you want most."
The answer looked back at her from the sketch. She traced her finger over Rod's face. "Of course, I want him. I love him."
"Then all that's left to decide is what you're going to do about it."
Rod parked his SUV outside Ben's coffee shop and took a deep breath. Being without Arielle had been hell. The thirteen days since he'd seen her had felt like a lifetime.
He hadn't had her with him when he signed his contract in the Bedlam's front office. Or at the press conference where he'd pulled on the Bedlam jersey for the first time. The happiest day of his professional hockey career had been marred by the cloud of frustration and heartbreak.
Brainstorming with Dylan and Kelsey, their parents, Ben, and even his new teammates had helped him come up with a solution to hopefully win back Arielle. And he had Ben to thank for giving him a way to accomplish it. With another breath, he climbed out and squared his shoulders.
Dylan's car pulled up next to him. His brother and three of the Bedlam players piled out. Dylan clapped him on the back. "Ready?"
"Yeah." His heart beat uncomfortably in his chest. This had to work. He grabbed the large box from the backseat and slammed the door. Timing would be crucial. He'd worked it out as best he could. "Everything is set?"
"All confirmed and ready to go." He nodded at the five-vehicle caravan that pulled into the parking lot. "I'll get everyone in place. Go get your woman."
"Thanks, bro. I owe you." Rod strode to the front door. Noise from the Saturday lunch crowd flowed over him when he walked into the shop.
Ben stood behind the counter, pouring coffee into a mug. His oldest friend gave him a smile and a thumbs up, then he pointed to the break room. "She's in there."
"Thanks." Hefting the box, Rod marched to the door and thrust it open. Arielle sat at a table in the small, sun-drenched room. A
sketch pad and a coffee set out in front of her. She looked thinner, more drawn, and the sadness in her gaze gutted him.
Her head snapped up. Eyes widening, she stood. "What are you doing here?"
"Showing you how serious I am about us." He set the box on the table and then unearthed his new Bedlam goalie mask. The shiny masterpiece in black and white and blue gleamed under the lights. The design company had put in extra hours to get it ready for him in time.
Her brows drew together and lines formed on her forehead. "What does your mask have to do with—"
"Look." He rotated it to the side. The space that had held the famed coffee cup on his previous helmets now held a picture of Arielle, framed by a heart.
Her mouth dropped open. "Me? You put me on your helmet?"
"Everyone in the league and all the fans know about my love of coffee, thanks to the decal I had on my old masks. Now, everyone everywhere will know about you."
Her eyes darted to meet his gaze. "About me? Then this means…"
"It means that I want everyone to know about you and what you mean to me."
"I can't believe it." She traced her finger over the heart, and his own beat harder.
"I hope you believe this." He laid his hand over hers and gently squeezed. "I love you. More than hockey. More than coffee. More than anything."
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, then she swallowed and her green eyes, misty with tears, captured his gaze. "Rod, I—"
Tears, especially hers, undid him. He grasped her shoulders in his hands. "That's not going to change in three weeks, three months, or three years. You are all I've ever wanted. You. Even when I couldn't have you. By my calculations, I've had a thing for you for twelve years straight. That's definitely beaten my record of how long new hobbies have held my attention."
She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. "I pushed you away because I was so afraid of what would happen if I lost you, and I let my fears and insecurities win. I do love you. You have to know that."
He took a deep breath and let her words soothe his soul. Then he gently squeezed her shoulders. "I wish you would've come to me with your worries."
