And watching some more.
Shannon shifted, glanced over her shoulder, then looked down at herself, wondering if her shirt was buttoned the wrong way or if she had somehow spilled something all down the front.
"Is, um, is something wrong?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"
"This one's personal."
Shannon sat back, suddenly eager to put more distance between them. "How personal?"
"It probably crosses some boundaries."
"Okaaaaay. Do I have to answer?"
The barest hint of a smile curled TR's full mouth. "Of course not."
"Then ask away."
"What's really going on with you and Caleb?"
Shannon didn't even hesitate, just simply waved her hand like she was shooing away an annoying gnat. "Next question."
"I was just curious because you two seemed to really be into each other at Sammie's wedding."
"Yeah, well, things changed."
"Like?"
Shannon dropped her gaze, suddenly preoccupied with a piece of invisible lint on her pants leg. She toyed with the material, rubbing her finger against it. Back and forth, back and forth. Then she exhaled, loudly, and looked back up.
Not quite able to meet TR's direct gaze.
Not quite able to hide her disappointment.
"Turns out his ego was more fragile than I thought it was."
"Meaning?"
"You were at the exhibition game. You saw what happened."
"I did, yes. But I'm not sure what that has to do with his ego."
"He got pissed because they were losing to a bunch of girls. Embarrassed. Couldn't handle it. He even admitted that tonight. To me. Out loud."
TR nodded but she didn't exactly look convinced. "I guess that will make next week's little show at the Banners' game awkward, huh?"
And shit. Shannon had completely forgotten about that. The Blades were scheduled to do another mini-scrimmage during the first intermission of the game. She had no idea why—this was their fourth one, at least. And it was a weeknight game, which meant she'd have to leave work early.
Maybe there was a way to get out of it. They didn't need her and Karly there, not really.
Except they kind of did because they didn't have a third back-up.
Shit.
She must have said the word out loud because TR leaned forward, her smile a little uncertain. "Does that mean it won't be awkward? Or it will?"
"It means it doesn't matter because I won't even see him. Which is fine by me."
"Because you want someone you don't intimidate."
"Yeah."
"Someone who supports what you do?"
"Of course."
"You're not really into social media, are you?"
Shannon frowned at the sudden change of topic. Maybe TR was starting the interview now and that was one of the questions. "Not really, no. I mean, I have accounts but I'm not on them much. Actually, I pretty much ignore them. It's too much of a time-suck and..." Her voice trailed off, her gaze moving to the phone TR was playing with. Oh God, it was the recorder. Shannon hated that recorder, hated knowing that every word she said would be stored somewhere forever.
TR turned the phone around so Shannon could see the screen. "Then you haven't seen this."
It was a statement, not a question. Shannon shook her head, frowning as she leaned closer to the screen. It was footage from one of their games. They were playing Richmond, which meant it was from at least two weeks ago. And the footage was taken from the stands, not from behind the net, where the team had the video set up for the live streaming.
Shannon watched as the camera zoomed in on Taylor, speeding toward the net. A second later, she scored. The camera angle went a little crazy for a few seconds, as if whoever was filming had jumped up with everyone else to celebrate. Then Caleb's face filled the screen, the dimple flashing in his cheek as he grinned.
"Did you guys see that? Now that's how you shoot a puck. You guys have no idea what you're missing by not being here."
There was a break in the footage, then another shot, this one of Shannon making a save. Caleb's face filled the screen again, that broad smile still on his face.
"That is one of the best goalies I have ever seen play. And I would kill to have her play for us because she runs circles around Luke and Dan. Sorry guys, you know it's true. And everyone else, hands-off. She's mine."
Shannon's jaw dropped. When had this even happened? She remembered the game, remembered Caleb being there, but she had no idea he had been filming anything.
She snapped her mouth closed and shook her head. "So what? That was before Sammie's wedding, before the exhibition game. It doesn't mean anything—"
"He posted this, too. Actually, he reposted it. From the Blades' media page." TR tapped something on the screen then flipped the phone back to her. It was the shot of that crazy-ass save she made more than a month ago, when Sammie had jokingly called her the limbo queen. Above the video link was a short post, just five quick words: Save of the decade! Wow!
The post had thousands of likes and shares.
"How come I never saw any of this?"
"Caleb is great at posting stuff, but he doesn't tag anyone. Unless you actually follow him, you'd never see it."
"That still doesn't mean anything. Two posts, big deal. And they were from before the exhibition game so—"
"There's more than two. There are dozens. He even posted right after the exhibition game. And tonight, too, talking about...well, you should probably just watch for yourself." TR grinned and shoved the phone back in her bag. "And speaking of the exhibition game, I want to hear all about it. What you were thinking. How it felt. How you came up with the strategy—"
"Stop." Shannon held her hand up, interrupting TR's sudden stream of questions. "Wait. You can't do that."
"Do what?"
"Start telling me something then stop and change the subject and tell me to look at it later. You can't do that."
"But I thought you didn't care."
"I—" Shannon snapped her mouth closed, frowning when she noticed the other woman's knowing smile. "Did Caleb put you up to this?"
"No."
"Taylor?"
"No."
"Sammie?"
TR laughed and shook her head. A few strands of her long, dark hair fell in her face and she brushed them away. "No. Nobody put me up to anything. I just thought you might want to see them."
"Why?"
"I just thought you would, that's all." TR leaned forward and placed one slender hand on Shannon's arm. "You're right, Caleb did act like an ass that night. But at least he realized it and apologized."
"That doesn't mean it won't happen again."
"Doesn't mean it will, either."
Shannon sighed and turned away, her gaze skimming across the empty rink. The deserted seats. The scratched glass and freshly-painted boards. She didn't know what to think, how to feel, what to make of anything. Was she being too hard on Caleb? Expecting too much? Making more of it than it really was?
Sammie thought she was, thought she should talk to Caleb and work things out. But Sammie was a newlywed, still riding the emotional high from remarrying her husband. She thought everyone should be in love.
But even Taylor thought she should try talking to Caleb and couldn't understand why Shannon was ignoring his calls. Taylor, of all people. Taylor, who had been convinced Caleb was simply trying to play her. Taylor, who had tried to warn Shannon away from Caleb in the first place. Shannon had even thrown that in her face, accusing her of being a hypocrite. Taylor had simply laughed and said she was wrong.
But she wasn't. Not really. No, Caleb hadn't been playing her, but the end result was the same so that didn't matter.
Did it?
Shannon sighed and turned back to TR, not surprised to see the other woman watching her. Studying her. Probably seeing too much.
"Let me guess: you
think I'm being too hard on him, too, just like everyone else."
"I'm not saying that, not exactly."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I saw you two together at the wedding. I watched how you were with each other. I just think you'd regret it if you didn't at least talk to him more. That's all."
That's all.
TR said it like it was no big deal, like talking to Caleb wouldn't open her up to even more hurt. And that was the problem: she hadn't expected what he'd done to hurt, but it did. That's what scared her the most. If she didn't care, she wouldn't hurt. The fact that she hurt meant she cared.
More than she wanted to admit.
And that terrified her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shannon stood in the empty hallway, staring at the door and telling herself, once again, that she needed her head examined.
The impulse that had seized her more than two hours ago was suddenly gone, replaced by an even stronger urge to turn and run. How stupid was that? It was because of the strength of that stupid impulse that she was even here. How long had she tried to ignore it as she lay in bed, tossing and turning? Ten minutes? Twenty? No, longer than that.
It was a stupid idea, no matter how she looked at it. That apparently didn't matter because here she was, dressed in a sweatshirt and track pants and her freaking slippers because the impulse had actually driven her from her bed and out of her small apartment above her brother's garage before she realized that wearing slippers with track pants probably wasn't a very smart fashion choice.
Giving in to that impulse wasn't a very smart choice, either, but here she was.
And all she wanted to do was turn around and run back home.
Shannon ran a hand through her hair, frowning when her fingers encountered a few tangles. Holy hell, she hadn't even thought to run a brush through her hair. What had she been thinking?
She hadn't been, that was the problem.
Which was why she was standing in a deserted hallway in front of Caleb's door after midnight, when she should be home in bed. Asleep. Alone. She had to get up in five hours to go to work. She didn't need to be here, staring at a stupid door.
But she couldn't quite make herself turn around to leave. TR's words kept replaying in her mind: I just think you'd regret it if you didn't at least talk to him more. That's all. Shannon didn't want to think the other woman was right, didn't want to admit that maybe she had a point. But what if she did? What if Shannon was overreacting? What if she didn't at least try and talk to Caleb some more? What if...
Too many what ifs.
That was why she finally rolled out of bed and got dressed in the first thing her hands had wrapped around. That was why she hurried from her place so fast, she forgot to put shoes on.
And that was why she was still standing here like some kind of idiot, afraid to turn around and leave, but afraid to knock on that door.
A wave of frustration washed over her—frustration at herself, for being so indecisive. So uncertain. That wasn't like her. Why now? Why was she standing here, arguing with herself now?
Because she was afraid. Afraid of giving Caleb a second chance. Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of not taking a chance. Because what if she didn't, and it turned out there really could be something between them?
What if she did, and he turned out to be just like everyone else? What if he tried to change her then walked away when he realized he couldn't?
A little voice piped up inside her head. But what if he's not like that?
And that was the problem. That stupid little voice inside her head kept reminding her of all the fun they'd had the last two months. Taunting her with the memories. Reminding her that Caleb had never given any indication of wanting to change her. At all.
Except for the exhibition game, when he got so pissed that the Banners were losing to a bunch of women.
Wouldn't you be pissed, too, if you were losing?
Shannon told that stupid voice to shut up but it was too late. Would she be pissed? Yeah. She hated losing. Who didn't? But it wasn't the fact that the Banners had been losing that pissed Caleb off—it was who they had been losing to.
And she was abso-fucking-lutely losing her mind because she was still standing out in the hallway, arguing with herself.
Fine. She'd knock on the door, wait ten seconds. If he didn't answer, she'd turn around and go home.
She raised her hand, dropped it. Raised it again.
Dropped it again.
This was ridiculous. Caleb was probably asleep. His huge bedroom was on the second level of the sprawling waterfront condo, no way would he hear her knocking on the door. She'd just go home, come back later.
Maybe in a week or two, after she had time to really think this through. Or maybe she'd just call him. That would probably be better than just showing up unannounced. Safer.
No. She'd send a text. That would be the safest thing to do.
She nodded and turned around, willing her feet to carry her to the elevator. One foot in front of the other.
Except her feet weren't moving.
She swore under her breath, turned back to face the door. Paused, turned back around and actually managed to move. Just a few inches, but it was progress.
Then she stopped. Hesitated. Was she really going to just quit? She wasn't a quitter.
But this wasn't quitting. This was just being smart. Regrouping so she could come back later.
Or text him later.
Something.
Coward.
Shannon paused, her head tilted to the side. She really was losing it because she could have sworn she just heard that in stereo. It was the little voice inside her head, piping up once again.
But it was also deeper than usual. A little gruff, a little sleepy.
And it didn't just come from inside her head, it came from behind her.
Shannon spun around, surprise and embarrassment filling her at the same time. Caleb was leaning just inside the doorway, one bare shoulder propped against the frame. Tousled hair fell into deep green eyes. Those same eyes watched her, sleepy but still intense. Freezing her in place when all she wanted to do was run for cover.
She raised her chin a notch, forcing bravado into her voice. "I'm not a coward."
"Then why haven't you knocked yet?"
"Because I thought you'd be sleeping and I didn't want to disturb you."
"I was sleeping—"
"See? All the more reason for me to leave—"
"—Until they called me to let me know someone was coming up."
"Oh." Shit. She hadn't thought of that. Hadn't given the guy at the lobby desk any thought at all when she hurried past him with a wave, telling him she was going to see Caleb and wouldn't be long.
"They asked if they should come up and escort you back down."
"Oh." That made sense, if she stopped to think about it. Probably one of the perks of living here. "Did you tell them yes?"
"No." He stepped to the side and opened the door a little wider. "You coming in? Or are you going to run away?"
Shannon narrowed her eyes, told herself not to take the bait. "I wasn't running away."
"Looked like it to me."
"I told you, I figured you were sleeping and didn't want to bother you. I was going to come back later." She wasn't, but she wasn't about to admit that to him.
"I'm not, and you aren't. And you're here now so you might as well come in."
Dammit. Dammit, dammit, shit. She was stuck now. There was no way she could leave without looking like a coward.
But it was tempting. So tempting.
Shannon hesitated, but only for a second. Then she squared her shoulders and marched right past him, trying not to brush up against, trying to ignore the sleepy determination in his eyes, trying to ignore the expanse of flushed skin that heated her as she walked by. Why couldn't he have put on some clothes, instead of answering the door in nothing but a pair of loose gym shorts that were in danger of falling off his le
an hips?
The door closed behind her with a soft click, plunging them into gray shadows broken only by the dim light spilling out from the kitchen. Caleb brushed past her, turning into that very kitchen. She heard another click and bright light spilled into the hallway.
She slowly followed him, heading straight for one of the stools sitting at the granite-topped island in the middle of the gleaming room. She pulled the stool out, climbed up, then propped her arms on the cold granite.
A bottle of water appeared at her elbow. Unfortunately, a hand was wrapped around the bottle. And that hand was attached to Caleb, who stood entirely too close to her.
"Nice shoes."
She didn't bother looking down, barely bothered looking at him. She simply smiled and nodded, like she always wore her slippers out when she visited people after midnight. "Thanks."
Caleb lowered himself onto the stool next to her. Too close. Crowding her. His bare leg brushed against hers and she wanted to move to the side, away from him. Away from his heat. But she couldn't, not without looking like she was trying to avoid him.
He propped his elbow on the counter and leaned forward, his face entering her peripheral vision. Again, too close. "So what brings you out this time of night?"
Shannon twisted the cap off the bottle, took a quick sip, then shrugged. "Oh, you know. Just driving around."
"Shannon." He leaned even closer, crowding her, and this time she did move. Just a few inches, so they weren't touching. It didn't work because he simply moved with her, closing the distance she had just put between them. He cupped her chin in his warm palm and eased her head to the side so she was facing him. Dark green eyes pierced hers, holding her in place, silently willing her not to look away. Not that she could, even if she wanted to. "Talk to me."
"I just..." Her voice trailed off, her mind dangerously blank. What had she come here to say? She didn't know, hadn't thought that far ahead. Not when the impulse to come see him had finally pushed her from her bed and out the door. Not during the drive over here. Not even when she had been standing outside his door, arguing with herself.
She took a deep breath and yanked her gaze from his, focusing on the granite countertop. Polished black, with swirling veins of white and gray. Soft, smooth. Cool beneath her fingers.
Playing Hard_A Chesapeake Blades Hockey Romance Page 19
