by Skye Jordan
She laughed and looked back out over Washington’s monuments.
“Everything okay with Tate?” he asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “Growing pains. He’s having a rough transition with my independence.”
“I think a lot of that is because you’re going to be so far away. I’m having a hard time adjusting too.”
She turned her head, surprised he’d admitted it so openly. So directly. And the thought of leaving him now after they’d just broken through a huge barrier upset her stomach again. “The transition will be difficult, no doubt.”
Rafe dropped his gaze, nodded, then looked out at the view with a heavy exhale. Long, turbulent moments passed while both remained quiet. His next question verified they were thinking about the same thing.
“What are we going to do, Mia?”
She shook her head and shrugged. “I think we both know there aren’t many options.”
His jaw jumped with stress. “I don’t want to lose this.”
Another surprising admission. He was pensive and restless, frowning out at the view. She’d never intended for this to happen. Her plan had backfired. Big-time. She’d opened a door only to tell him he couldn’t step through. But this situation wasn’t completely her fault. He was equally responsible for this dilemma. And she’d worked too hard to give up the ground she’d gained for a guy who wouldn’t even admit they were seeing each other.
He turned his gaze on her, and the look of turmoil in his eyes mirrored the confusion in her gut. “Will you come to California for our Cup games?”
She frowned. Their first two games in the battle for the Cup were in LA. “I’d love to but I don’t have the money to fly across the country to watch a couple of games, only to do it again a few days later.” He opened his mouth, and she held up a hand. “Please don’t offer to pay for it, Rafe.”
He exhaled heavily, and his pensive expression turned frustrated. “Why not? I really want you there.”
She had the urge to tell him he didn’t get everything he wanted. But, judging by his mood, she doubted that would help the situation. “Because we’re going to be living across the country from each other in less than a week.”
“I know. And I want to spend as much time together as possible while we can.”
Mia inhaled deeply, torn. “Rafe, you may be good at messing around and moving on, but I’m not.”
His expression tightened, and he took a step toward her, but stopped himself and glanced inside again before returning his gaze. “What we have is more than messing around. You know that.”
“That doesn’t solve the problems between us.” All the more reason to back off now to give her time to transition into letting him go and living without him. God, that idea hurt more now than ever.
She turned toward him and reached out to touch his shirt, tracing the edge of a button. Rafe caught her hand, leaned away, and glanced toward the house again.
Hurt stabbed at her heart, making her realize that maybe she needed distance even sooner than she’d thought.
Stepping back, she tried to keep the hurt from her voice when she said, “I think I’ve said hello to everyone. I’m going to head home. Good night.”
But when she turned, Rafe put a hand on her arm, dropping it as soon as she met his gaze again. “I was hoping you could come home with me. Maybe tell Tate you’re staying with Tina or something?”
Disappointment joined hurt. Disappointment in Rafe, in the situation, and partially in herself. These men just kept putting themselves first. It was clear that if Mia wanted her feelings, her life, and her needs to matter, she was the only one she could control. “Rafe, as I just pointed out to Tate, I’m a grown woman. And I’m done lying about where I’m spending the night to benefit you or Tate or Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow at the family skate.”
Mia moved into the house, but walking away from him tonight had to be one of the hardest things she’d ever done, and tears prickled her eyes. She’d waited most of her life for Rafe to want her. But wanting her only under certain circumstances, when there was no chance of anyone else finding out, had never entered into her fantasies. And she knew without a doubt, she deserved more than that.
Rafe stepped into the house and watched Mia wander toward the front door, saying her good-byes. The sight created an uncomfortable flutter low in his gut. The kind Rafe got when the third period was winding down and he and his team couldn’t do anything to make the goal to put them in the lead. That feeling he got when he knew his team was going to lose.
Only with Mia, it was worse. There was an added element of panic trickling through him. And urgency. He was losing her already, and they’d barely just found each other. He knew what she wanted, what she needed—stability, security, assurance that another man wouldn’t tell her she was inadequate. Tate was right. She needed things that Rafe couldn’t give her. Not in his current situation.
Knowing that not only left a hot coal burning in his gut but made him feel like the biggest loser on the planet.
“Hey, son.” Joe came up behind Rafe and clasped him on the shoulder, but his gaze was on Mia as she left. “Mia’s headed home?”
“Yeah.” Rafe pulled himself as far out of the muck as he could and smiled for Joe. “Having a good time?”
“Always. Great group of people. I’m so glad you and Tate found a family like this.” He glanced the direction Mia had gone. “I hope Mia can find the same in Los Angeles.”
Rafe should want the same thing, but his heart believed she belonged here. “She’s certainly special. If they can’t see that in LA, then they’re blind.”
“I’m really proud of you, Rafe.”
He turned his gaze back to Joe. “For what?”
“Patching things up with Mia. I know you two were on the outs for a while.” He lifted a shoulder. “I think that happens in any family, especially when things change. Tate’s not dealing with Mia’s move well, and it’s causing a lot of friction between them. But they’ll get past it, the same way you and Mia got past your rough spot.”
“I’m sure they will,” Rafe said, but knew his own rough spots with Mia weren’t over. In fact, they just seemed to get rougher and rougher.
“It’s so reassuring to me, as a father, to know you’ll always take care of her. Do what’s best for her. Sometimes kids need guidance from friends their own age to head the right direction. She listens to me, but…” He shrugged and slapped Rafe’s arm again. “I’m just…so proud of how you’ve turned out, Rafe. I couldn’t love you more if you were my own flesh and blood. You know that, right?”
Rafe’s heart knotted in his throat. He took a second to swallow past it and returned a rough “Of course. I feel the same about you, Joe.”
Joe smiled and nodded. “Well, I’m going to head back to the hotel.” He reached out to hug Rafe, then pulled back and gently tapped his face. “Be good, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” He watched Joe’s path toward the door, much the same path Mia had just taken, with his heart aching just as much. He loved that man. Rafe wasn’t ashamed about loving Joe even more than Rafe loved his own father. Because Joe had been a hundred times the father to him than his own had been.
“I know you’ll always take care of her. Do what’s best for her.”
Guilt seeped in. He hadn’t always done what was right for Mia. Breaking off communication with her last year had been right for Rafe, but it had hurt Mia. It could have been a very big part of Mia taking a job across the country.
If he was going to do what was best for Mia now, it would be supporting Mia in her move to California. Helping her find her own success. Without him hovering in the background, holding her back.
11
Mia paced the lobby of the Rough Riders’ practice rink with her phone at her ear, pulled away from the family skate for a conference call with her design team.
She watched the Riders members and their families out on the ice, laughing and chatting. The women all looked adorab
le in the jerseys Mia had made for them. The fact that every single woman and female child was wearing them warmed her heart, and she was annoyed about missing this short time on the ice.
But this call was her new reality. This call was her future. Missing out on the skate was just another one of the many things she loved that she’d be letting go to claim that future.
The call connected her to a conference room in Los Angeles where the team of designers for Wicked Dawn, including the Emmy award–winning costume designer, Marla Cisneros. The fact that Mia would be working beside the woman and these other experienced, talented designers every day still seemed surreal.
Ty Hendrix slid past the window, making a ridiculous face at Mia through the glass. Laughter bubbled up in Mia’s chest, but she shooed him away, and Hendrix lowered his head, rounded his shoulders, and glided away like an unwanted puppy.
She grinned, rolled her eyes to the ceiling, and sighed as the lead team designer continued discussing changes for an upcoming season Mia knew nothing about. By the way her boss was warning everyone to clear their calendars, Mia’s hopes of coming back to DC soon to visit dwindled. But, judging by how much sleep she’d lost the night before over Rafe and this stupid makeshift familial situation, maybe that was a good thing. But it sure as shit didn’t feel good.
Mia had no problem sitting Joe and Tate down and telling them she wanted to pursue a relationship with Rafe. Or that if they truly loved her, they’d support her and be happy for her whether or not things between her and Rafe worked out. Or that if they were going to give her shit about it, despite how much she loved them, she would distance herself. But Rafe had given her every indication he would never do the same, so she doubted she’d have to have the difficult discussion with the other men in her life.
Movement on the rink drew her gaze, and Hendrix drifted by the glass again, the opposite way this time, joined by Tierney, now both of them distorting their handsome faces like idiots. This time, Mia couldn’t hold the laughter back. She pulled the phone from her ear and held it against her shoulder while she covered her laugh with the other hand. Inside the rink, the guys high-fived each other.
Get out, she mouthed to them, stabbing her finger toward the ice.
The guys skated off laughing, and Mia smiled with a shake of her head. She brought the phone to her ear again, but her gaze roamed the rink. And while her new boss’s voice spilled into her ear, explaining character changes and episode rewrites in the upcoming season and how those would be reflected in the costumes, Mia’s gaze held on all the people who’d become more than friends over the years. The wives and girlfriends of the other players who felt like sisters. The players’ parents who had become like aunts and uncles. The team members’ kids who felt like nieces and nephews.
Her gaze pulled to Rafe like a magnet and held. He was down on the ice, sitting back on his heels, hands held up, acting like a goalie for Andre’s two-year-old, Dmitri. The boy was being held up by his father but was holding the stick on his own, swinging awkwardly at the puck and missing. Mia had no idea what was being said between the men, but Rafe and Andre were laughing so hard, they were fighting to stay upright.
The sight infused Mia with a conflicting mix of joy and loss, and tears rushed her eyes.
“That includes you, Mia.” Aaron’s voice pulled her back to the conversation, which was coming to a close. “Enjoy your family while you have them close. We won’t be doling out vacation anytime in the foreseeable future.”
That hit her in the gut, but she tapped the Mute button to confirm she’d heard him.
“I know this probably sounds intense,” Aaron told Mia, “but I did an apprenticeship for Shay Lawrence when I was just out of school, and if yours has been anything like mine, this is going to feel like a vacation once you settle in.”
That brought a round of laughter from the others but didn’t quite bring a smile to Mia. Shay Lawrence had been impossible to please, but she’d always been an hour’s flight away from people who could make her feel better.
“We’re excited to have you,” Aaron said. “And if you happen to get into town a few days early, shoot me an email or text. We’re having an end-of-episode party this week. It would be a great time for you to meet the crew in a casual setting. We work hard, but we play hard too.”
She said her thank-yous and good-byes, but a knot sat in the middle of her chest.
“Enjoy your family while you have them close.”
Laughter touched her ears through the glass, and a heavy sadness filled her. She found Rafe again just as Dmitri skated into him. Rafe grabbed the boy and fell backward, lying on the ice and holding Dmitri over him, tickling the boy into fits of giggles.
A wave of emotion overwhelmed her. She turned her back to the rink and covered her face with both hands. Tears leaked from beneath her lashes. “Shit.” She took a breath. Another. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Mia grabbed hold of her emotions before they completely unraveled, and focused on the big picture. Sliding her hands down to clear her eyes, she stared blankly out the front glass doors to the parking lot.
“I can do this,” she whispered to herself.
Her mind darted to other options, but there were no other options. DC was the antithesis of fashion friendly. Her only choice for a decent career was to go back to the fashion industry in New York. Where she couldn’t afford to live. Where there was snow and humidity and wall-to-wall people. Where she would work for yet another elitist designer, stifled by being forced to design in their mold. Even in LA, Mia could afford a decent place to live on her own. She already had a friend there. And her job would be exciting and challenging. The things she’d learn would make her stand out among the competition.
This was the right choice. It might not feel like it emotionally, but logically, she’d weighed out the pros and the cons dozens of times before she’d made the jump. Now she needed to trust herself.
She nodded, closed her eyes, and wiped the tears that fell. “I can do this. I’ll be fine.”
Mia shook off the gloom and reentered the arena. Cold hit her face, and laughter touched her ears. The knowledge that she wouldn’t be back to participate in another skate like this anytime soon created an ache beneath her ribs. But she’d been through enough transitions in life to know these feelings were normal and that eventually she’d adjust.
She took off her blade guards, and as soon as she glided onto the ice, Lily Croft skated over to show Mia how much the one-foot spin she’d taught the girl had improved. By the time Lily had executed the move, Amy and Rachel were there, demanding to show Mia what they’d learned. Soon, Sarah was standing beside Mia. And Rafe glided into the group as well. He hung back, letting the girls have the spotlight while Sarah and Mia talked, but his presence felt like a tight wire all through her body.
“Fair warning,” Sarah told Mia as they all cheered the girls. “Every woman here is jealous of every other woman’s jersey. You’re going to get hit with a dozen requests by the time you leave.”
Mia pulled her gaze off Rachel trying to perfect her waltz jump, deliberately kept her eyes off Rafe, and told Sarah, “By the sound of the conference call I just had, I’m not going to have time for anything but breathing in this new job. Everyone’s going to have to find another source for their cute jerseys.”
Rachel, Amy, and Lily had joined hands and were doing front crossover steps in a circle. Until one of them misstepped, and all of them ended up in a heap on the ice. Sarah moved in to untangle the laughing bundle, and Rafe came up beside Mia.
“Hey, beautiful.” His low voice sizzled over her skin. He skated a slow circle around her, those gray eyes smoldering with too many emotions for her to figure out.
“Hey, yourself.”
On the next pass, his hand closed gently on her bicep and pulled her along the ice away from the kids. “Skate with me? I’m pretty sure you’ve already skated with everyone else here.”
Which, evidently, somehow made it safe for him to skate wit
h her now.
She let another pang of disappointment ebb, and when he slid his hand down her arm, Mia closed her fingers around his. She fought the curl of pleasure in her belly, the softening of her heart, but that was futile. He’d been able to turn her inside out since she’d been a teenager.
He sped up, turned, and skated backward in front of her, holding out his other hand for hers. When she laid it in his and met his eyes, his smile rewarded her.
“How was your call?” he asked.
“Fine.” When she heard her own melancholy, she added, “Good. Exciting. Terrifying. They sound great, even invited me to a work party they’re having this week to celebrate the completion of an episode. I thought that was nice, considering I don’t even work there yet. But I like the idea that they celebrate every episode, not waiting for an entire line to be produced to have a party, you know? I wish I could have gone to meet them in person for the interview, but…” She shrugged. “I’m sure it will work out fine.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Mia pulled herself into an easy forward skate. Rafe’s backward skate remained a fluid, graceful glide. God, she’d missed this. Missed just being with him. No pressure. No problems. At least none in the moment. “You think what’s a good idea?”
“Meeting them before you start working. I also think Sarah’s right about the jerseys. I’d like to see you pursue that.”
She laughed. “Then you must not have heard me say my job is going to be—”
“Demanding. I heard. Which makes me wonder when you’re going to stop working and start living. Your last three jobs were just as all-consuming.”
“Says the man drowning in hockey eight months out of the year,” she told him.
“We train hard, play hard, but it doesn’t take over our lives. We get breaks because the coaches know that working us too hard consistently leads to fatigue and burnout and injuries. There’s a difference between hard work and unhealthy work.”
“There’s also this thing called paying your dues. And I’m not a superstar like some people who get to call their own shots.”
