The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1)

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The Season: Rush (Austin Arrows #1) Page 33

by Nicole Edwards


  Ellie: Rough night. I watched at the bar. No one was happy with the calls. Some were bad, some were just stupid. Wanted you to know I was thinking about you.

  Kingston: Yep. One of those nights.

  Ellie: You doing okay?

  Kingston: Fine.

  Ellie: Okay… Well, if you want to talk, you know where to find me.

  44

  Ellie

  Saturday, December 17th

  I don’t know why I chose not to meet James at the Penalty Box. He offered after he told me he had been looking at my Facebook profile and knows where I work. For some reason I don’t want to be there. Not for our first face-to-face conversation since the day we unknowingly created our daughter. I know Noelle would be too curious and probably Julie, as well. On top of that, a lot of the customers know me. If things go sideways, that’s the last place I want to be.

  Which is why I’m currently walking through Lakeline Mall, past Pac Sun and American Eagle as I make my way toward the food court, where we agreed to meet. The scent drifting from Auntie Anne’s has me suddenly craving a cinnamon pretzel.

  Nope. Never mind. The mere thought has my stomach churning, my nerves stealing my hunger.

  I feel like I’m meeting this man for the first time. Hell, I don’t even remember much about what he looks like. It’s been so long, and that single night is fuzzy thanks to all of the birthdays, play-offs, Thanksgivings, and Christmases that have passed. Not to mention the teething, the first day of kindergarten, the first dance, and yes, even the first pink hair.

  But since this man, who is claiming to be my daughter’s father, said he was interested in talking to me, I know I can’t ignore him indefinitely. I did, however, manage to put James off for an entire week. I finally mustered up the nerve and called him last Saturday. We talked only briefly, and I told him I’d be willing to meet with him on Saturday. Today. He said that worked perfectly because he would be able to get a flight into Austin later in the week. I didn’t bother to ask him what he does for a living, or where he lives, but obviously he doesn’t live here. I’m not sure why I thought he would. We met in Las Vegas.

  So, while I counted down the days, I had some time to think, to mull things over, to figure out what I’ll say to him when I see him for the first time after thirteen years.

  Surprisingly, he hasn’t tried to rush me. We even exchanged a few text messages. Most of them were him texting to see if I was okay. For some reason, he thinks this is going to be hard on me.

  He’s right. It is. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him.

  And I’m nervous. The kind of nervous that makes your hands sweat and your stomach flutter. I feel something in my chest. It’s kind of hollow. With an echo. From all that damn fluttering going on.

  I pass by a kiosk bedazzled with jewelry, another with cute cartoonish-looking signs with people’s names on them, then stop as I approach the food court. My heart is beating a mile a second, and I’m starting to feel dizzy.

  “Ellie?”

  I swallow hard and turn…

  “James,” I whisper, shocked to the soles of my feet as I stare up into his face. He’s tall. Really, really tall.

  Oh, my God.

  It’s James. Bianca’s father. My Las Vegas one-night stand from thirteen years ago. He looks very much the same, only … at least a decade older.

  Although I had my doubts when he contacted me, I know this man is her father. My memories might be fuzzy, but I would know him anywhere. Probably because Bianca looks so much like him it’s uncanny. She’s got my eyes—though hers are definitely more the color of his, an incredibly rich emerald green—and my dimpled chin, but she has his nose and cheekbones. And his thick eyebrows. She’s even got his ears.

  He smiles warmly and my stomach plummets to my toes.

  “Hey,” he says softly. “Come on. Sit down.”

  I think I’m hyperventilating.

  A gentle hand curls around my elbow and guides me to a table. James pulls out a chair and helps me into the seat.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I lift my head and watch as he walks over to one of the restaurants. He buys a bottle of water and fills a cup with ice before returning. Without a word, he opens the bottle, pours water into the cup, and pushes it toward me. I’m not sure why it surprises me, but it does.

  “Thank you.”

  I take a sip. The cold does wonders to cool me down, so I sip more and then place my purse on the table and force a smile. “Sorry about that.”

  His smile returns.

  The man is incredibly attractive and looks almost exactly as I remember. The first thing I note is that he looks eerily similar to most of the men in my life. I tend to hang around hockey players, so I’m familiar with bumps, bruises, and scars marring their faces. This man’s face is clean-shaven and smooth, but yes, there’s the underlying evidence of some sort of action to his face at some point. Probably sports, if I had to guess. We actually met in a sports book, though neither of us was betting. I was watching a news report while I waited for my friends to join me. I don’t know what he’d been doing, but we did talk briefly about hockey. His dark hair, which is receding slightly in front, is styled in that unkempt way that seems to be popular. He’s ruggedly handsome, even with all his imperfections.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and deep.

  “I am. You took me off guard a little.”

  “I know the feeling.” He rests his arms on the table. “Do you need anything else?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks for not letting me faint. It would’ve been embarrassing.”

  The polite formality of our conversation makes me wish I’d asked him to come to the bar. At least that way Noelle could probably ease some of the tension.

  “I have to admit I was a little surprised to hear from you.” That’s an understatement, actually.

  His forehead creases slightly. “Why’s that?”

  I glance down at my cup. “I didn’t know my daughter had posted that on Facebook.” I peer up at him. I don’t see any judgement in his eyes, so I continue. “I monitor her social media accounts, but apparently, the new thing is to have more than one. I didn’t know she’d done that. So your phone call was a shock.”

  “Well, that definitely explains a few things.” His smile is once again warm and friendly.

  “Like?”

  “A friend of mine actually came across the post.” That wasn’t surprising; it had gone viral. “I thought he was crazy when he sent it to me. He was there with me that weekend, but I don’t think you met him. I think he sent it as a joke at first because the timeline happened to work out, but when I saw your picture, I immediately knew it was you. I wondered why you didn’t post it, why she did instead. With the Internet being what it is and all.”

  That was a polite way of saying he had questioned my mothering abilities. In this situation, I can’t say I blame him. My daughter put the bar’s phone number out there for the world to have all in the hope of finding some stranger. It’s a wonder we didn’t receive random phone calls from people asking stupid things. Now that I think about it, we have received a few strange calls over the past month, but it’s a published number, so I thought nothing of it.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner,” I rush to say. “I tried. Honest to God, I tried.” I offer a small smile. “There are a lot of Jameses in the world.”

  He laughs and some of the strain eases from my body.

  “So what are our first steps?” he asks. “I’ll admit, I have absolutely no experience with this.” His smile turns sheepish. “I guess no one really does, though, huh?”

  “No children?” I ask and realize I’m holding my breath as I wait for his answer.

  “No,” he admits. “I was married once. That lasted about three years. We parted amicably. I’m fresh out of a rather serious relationship. Again, it ended on good terms.”

  “All-around good guy?” I tease.

  “That’s the way i
t works. Girls seem to want the bad boy and well … I don’t seem to have those qualities.” He cocks his head to the side. “Although, I do have the face.”

  That makes me laugh.

  “What is it that you do?”

  “I’m a lawyer. Well, technically, I was a lawyer. No, wait. I still am, but now I’m a sports agent.”

  I smile. I like that he’s rambling a little. It means he’s as nervous as I am.

  A sports agent, huh? “Really? For which sport?”

  “Hockey.”

  Wow.

  “I currently live in Colorado,” he says.

  “You’re kidding me.” If he finds it strange that I get excited over this detail, James doesn’t show it.

  “Not kidding. Small world, right?”

  I can tell he knows something.

  “Ellie, I might not know everything about you, but I do read the news, and I keep up with professional hockey. When I read Bianca’s post, I got curious, so I dug deeper. I know who your brother is. I also know it was announced that you’re dating Kingston Rush, who happens to be Heath Rush’s older brother.”

  “You know Heath?”

  James nods. “I know a lot of people.”

  I feel my face heat. “Yeah, definitely a small world.” I take a sip of my water, then look back up at him. “Can I ask how old you are?” It’s probably a really stupid question considering I slept with this guy at one time, but he looks … younger than I thought he would be.

  “I just turned thirty-three.”

  A flurry of numbers goes through my head and I gasp. “Oh, my God. That means…”

  “I was only nineteen when we met.”

  “But you were at a club.”

  His grin is a bit devilish. “Fake ID.”

  I giggle. I can’t believe this.

  “But don’t worry, I have grown out of that phase. I assure you.”

  I look in his eyes and see James is no longer smiling. “Trust me. That’s not what I was thinking. We were both young.” Apparently, him more so than me. Which, I think, is the strange thing. I had no idea.

  “So, first steps?”

  I glance down at the table. “I think we should take this slow. Unlike the first time.”

  He chuckles. “I think that’s wise.”

  “Maybe you and I can get to know each other a little better before I introduce you to Bianca. And I think a paternity test is fair. To you and to her. I hope that doesn’t offend you, but—”

  James reaches out and touches my hand. “Ellie, like I said, this is new to me. I only found out I have a daughter a week ago. Sure, it’s been thirteen years, and I don’t want to waste too much time before I get to see her, but I trust your judgement. I’ll follow your lead.”

  I can’t help it, tears spring to my eyes. I’ve spent the last week coming up with worst-case scenarios. I imagined meeting him for the first time and having him tell me that she couldn’t possibly be his, although I’m not sure why he would’ve shown up if that was the case. I also thought about what would happen if he decided he wanted to take Bianca away from me.

  Instead, this man seems genuinely interested in meeting his daughter, and he’s being incredibly mature about it.

  “Do you have a picture of her?” he asks. “Of when she was a baby?”

  Smiling to myself, I pull out my phone. If he wants pictures, I’ve got pictures.

  Kingston

  My chest hurts.

  It actually feels like something is squeezing my heart. Or perhaps it feels like there’s an anvil sitting on my ribs. One way or the other, the pain makes me aware of every breath I take.

  Ellie texted me this morning to let me know she was going to meet James today. I didn’t ask where and she didn’t offer. I think I should have. It’s been five hours since she was scheduled to meet him. I want to call her, but I don’t. Rather than simply ask, I’ve been sitting on my back porch, staring out at the lake for the past two hours. A million questions have gone through my head during that time. And it’s a broad spectrum of worries making my head ache.

  What if James wants to be Bianca’s father? I could totally understand that. Bianca’s a great kid and Ellie’s a great mom. Any man would be proud to be part of that.

  Will Ellie decide that the best thing for Bianca is to be with the man? I can see that happening. It only seems natural.

  What if James doesn’t want to be Bianca’s father? Let me tell you, any man who would not want to be that kid’s father is an idiot. Total fucking moron. And the only reason that could happen would be if the guy refused to get to know her. He wouldn’t get to find out how smart she is. Or how funny. Or how she’s got the sweetest giggle and that she likes banana splits with M&Ms on top. He would never know how bright her smile can get because he didn’t get to witness her fifth birthday when she received some sparkly princess dress and her eyes lit up as big and bright as the sun. He would never know how sweet she can be because he wasn’t around when she insisted that Spencer and I both take her to the father-daughter dance when she was eight.

  The thought of him not wanting anything to do with her makes rage burn through me, and I want to punch the bastard in the face. I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t know how it’ll play out. I can’t even pinpoint what I want.

  Well, that’s not entirely true. I want Bianca to be happy. I’m sure finding her father and establishing a relationship with him would be the best thing for her. Provided, of course, that he’s good enough to be her dad.

  I want Ellie to be happy, too. I’m sure she’s stressing about how this will work out. It pains me knowing that she was shocked by James’s appearance in her life. I honestly thought she knew about the post. I feel like a jackass for not bringing it up sooner. I could’ve saved her from that surprise. I know how much she detests them.

  The thought of Ellie and James building a relationship in order to take care of their daughter makes me want to puke. The pain shoots through my chest again, my heart constricting. I don’t want to lose her, but I can see how this could be a good thing for her and Bianca.

  Part of me wishes he’s a douchebag and makes Ellie hate him. That would be more beneficial to me. I could come in and pick up the pieces.

  If only it were that easy. The problem with that is I don’t want Ellie or Bianca to be hurt by this man. I want them to be happy. No matter what that means for me.

  On the other hand, what if he really does want to experience all that? To see how great Bianca is. What if I don’t get to be part of that anymore?

  It’s a selfish thought, I know. And it’s not something I really want to contemplate right now.

  My phone vibrates on the table. I reach for it and hesitantly glance at the screen.

  Ellie: I met with James. It went well. Better than I thought it would. He’s a nice guy and he’s willing to do this at my pace.

  I stare, not sure what I’m feeling. Although I want to be cold and unaffected, it’s not happening. Not with Ellie. I’ve spent the last two months falling in love with her. No. Actually, I think I’ve spent the last sixteen years falling in love with her. If only James would’ve showed up two months ago, I think I could’ve walked away.

  Kingston: Glad it went well.

  Ellie: I was wondering if you’d want to come over tonight.

  I don’t respond right away. I try to convince myself that staying away from her is the right thing to do. When that doesn’t work, I try to convince myself that my body craves hers and that’s all this is. If we keep this about sex, I might get through it. Why shouldn’t I reap the benefits? That was our agreement, right?

  Kingston: Depends.

  Ellie: On?

  Kingston: What are you wearing?

  She doesn’t answer me back for several minutes. I wonder if I’ve pissed her off.

  Ellie: Depends.

  Kingston: On?

  Ellie: Are you coming over or not? If you are, I’m wearing nothing. If you aren’t, I’ll keep my leggings and my
sweater on.

  Damn. I like the idea of her naked and waiting for me. Okay, not completely naked.

  Kingston: Keep your panties on. But nothing else.

  Ellie: Okay. And so you know, Bianca’s spending the night with Gabby, so we’ve got the house to ourselves.

  Very good to know. It makes it even easier to pretend this is nothing more than a booty call. Which it is. Definitely.

  Kingston: Thanks for telling me. Now I don’t have to worry about how loud I make you scream my name. I want you to be playing with your pussy when I get there. Can you do that for me, Ellie?

  Ellie: Mmm-hmm

  Kingston: Good girl. I’m on my way.

  Ellie: There goes the sweatshirt. The leggings are next.

  I don’t even bother to grab a coat as I make my way out to my truck and head over to Ellie’s.

  I’m sure I break more than a few traffic laws on the way, and it doesn’t bother me in the least. Maybe this isn’t going to be the love that lasts a lifetime, but for now, it can certainly be the lust that sets off the smoke alarms.

  45

  Ellie

  Lying in my bed, I stare up at the ceiling, nervously waiting for Kingston to arrive. I did as I told him I would. I removed all of my clothes with the exception of my panties. When he first made the suggestion, I was a little nervous. Then, when I crawled on the bed and slipped my hand beneath them, my room suddenly got warm. The more I thought about him, the warmer it got.

  I definitely don’t mind where he has taken tonight. I think his head is in the same place mine is right now, and I’m happy about that. After my meeting with James today, I’ve been an emotional wreck. I haven’t confronted Bianca about the Facebook post yet, and I know I can’t until I’m willing to introduce her to her father. Which I’m not. Not yet, anyway.

  So, the fact that Kingston didn’t drill me about how the meeting went was perfect. Him turning this into something sexual was even better. I know that’s what I’m supposed to want from him. After all, that was the agreement. I would be his pretend girlfriend for the sake of his reputation, and during the course of our time together, he is going to kinkify me in exchange for having to dance on my bar. So far, he’s held up his end of the bargain, but tonight I need something that will take my mind off everything. The kinkier, the better.

 

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