Breakaway (Gold Hockey Book 5)

by Elise Faber

  The first thing she saw was Max’s shocked face. The second, Angie on tiptoe, whispering furiously into his ear.

  Anna had been so focused on Blue, on the woman in red and the bidding, that she’d forgotten she was in a room with more than two hundred other people. All of whom were staring at her, the silence in the room deafening.

  Or maybe it was the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears that was drowning out the noise because the sound seemed to return in waves, whispers, soft conversations, then the normal cacophony of a party—clinking glasses, food being offered, laughter, talking—

  And Blue.

  Who was staring at her from the stage, eyes wide, gratitude filling their depths.

  She gave him a slight nod before turning to face the person coming toward her with a clipboard in hand. The thin brown-haired man was wearing a crisp navy suit and began taking down her information while shuttling her to a table, where she was presumably going to find some way to pay an obscene amount of money.

  “Sign here,” the man said, and Anna glanced down at the clipboard, seeing that her fear of it being thousands and not hundreds had been well-founded.

  She’d just bought Blue for one hundred thousand dollars.

  Could she split it amongst like ten credit cards, she wondered, mentally calculating if she had enough credit available to get her out of this.

  Maybe?

  Shit.

  Well, nothing to be done for it at the moment. She had to sign first, then figure it out. Hopefully Blue would pay her back before they all came due.

  A hand drifted down her arm, brushed the bare skin just below the hem of her dress.

  Anna jumped, jerked away. She turned and opened her mouth to tell off whatever asshole was touching her without permission. Yes, her dress was a little short, but that didn’t give anyone the right to—

  Oh.

  Blue.

  He smiled down at her, brushed the skin again, and she realized he wasn’t trying to cop a feel. And no that wasn’t disappointing. It wasn’t. A stifled sigh she didn’t have time for. He was trying to hand her his credit card, not touch her.

  Which was fine.

  It was great, actually, because she didn’t have to figure out how to charge one hundred thousand dollars on her army of credit cards, and that little pang in her heart wasn’t a blip of sadness. No, it was most certainly relief. Or adrenaline coming down.

  Or heartburn.

  Yup. She’d eaten too much cheese.

  Blue smiled down at her. “Nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Blue.”

  Her brows pulled together for a heartbeat until she saw the curious expressions on the crowd surrounding them and realized this was just a show for them. She lifted her hand, placed her palm in his. “Anna.”

  A flash of white teeth, a smile that made her stomach tingle. “I’ll be in touch, Anna,” he said. “Thanks for supporting the Gold charity.”

  She nodded then nearly had her knees buckle when he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her palm. One that most certainly appeared completely PG to the people around them, but also one with a flick of his wicked tongue that had her remembering exactly what that particular body part could do.

  Then he was gone, and she was left with his black American Express card pressed against her heated skin.

  The tepid plastic was no comparison to Blue.

  Eight

  Blue

  He skipped out of the fundraiser before any of the guys could come and either razz him or kick his ass.

  Brit and Blane would tease.

  Stefan, Mike, and Max would destroy.

  Blue snorted, knowing that he’d been spending too much time of late with Max and Brayden and their stash of video games—“DESTROY!” being one of Brayden’s favorite battle cries. He’d been encroaching on their father-son time, but they’d invited, and he hadn’t been strong enough to say no.

  Especially when he’d thought that perhaps Anna might be at their house.

  No such luck.

  But he’d been lucky tonight.

  Less about avoiding the woman in red—because while that would have been uncomfortable, Blue knew a lot about keeping his head down and pushing through difficult situations—and more lucky because Anna cared about him enough to go to bat for him.

  Or . . . maybe she didn’t care and was just a good person helping someone out.

  Helping family out.

  Because the Gold were family, and Anna was a part of that.

  He unlocked his car, pulled open the door, and sank into the driver’s seat. It was most certainly option two—good person, helping—and not anything to do with Blue.

  “You’ll never amount to anything.”

  He froze for one long moment, shoving down the flood of pain that tore through him at the memory of that voice, trying to forget the multitude of times he’d heard that sentiment, and the fact that no matter how many times he’d heard those words, no matter how hard he’d worked to steel himself against them, that they’d still hurt.

  “Perfect timing, Pops,” he muttered then blew out a breath and turned on the ignition.

  Blue needed to go home. He needed to sleep.

  To forget tonight. To forget the past.

  He needed to tuck everything back into that airtight box in his heart and mind and go back to living the life he’d crafted for himself.

  Easy-breezy. Light. No drama and very little emotion.

  He pulled out of the lot.

  But that all could wait until tomorrow.

  Because tonight he was getting drunk.

  At first, he thought the tap-tap-tap was rain.

  But even with his drink-addled brain, Blue was aware enough to know that rain in California in August just didn’t happen.

  He closed his eyes, took another slug of his beer, and let the sweet cacophony of Jack Ryan on Amazon Prime wash over him.

  Ah, nothing like the sounds of explosions to help a man sleep.

  Except there was that tap-tap-tap again.

  He sat up. Maybe he had a leak?

  Or maybe that tap-tap-tap was actually a knock-knock-knock. As in, someone was knocking at his front door.

  “Ugh,” he groaned, tossing his arm over his eyes and almost wearing his beer.

  The knocking didn’t stop.

  “I know you’re in there, idiot.” Anna’s voice traveled to where he sat on the couch. “The sound of shattering glass and explosions is shaking the whole damned house.”

  Normally a woman showing up in the middle of the night and knocking loudly on his front door would not be a welcome interruption.

  But Blue would be lying if he said this particular woman showing up unannounced was unwelcome. Instead of hiding, he actually jumped to his feet, staggering for a second before regaining his balance, then hurried to yank open the door.

  Half of him expected it to be some sort of hallucination, but it wasn’t.

  Anna was on his doorstep, still in that gorgeous black dress, blond hair in loose waves down her back.

  “You left the party,” she gritted.

  He shrugged. “My part was done.”

  “Except”—more terseness, her jaw clenched tight—“every single person on the Gold thinks that I’ve been harboring some sort of insane crush on you for the past two seasons and that I’ve let it rot my brain to the tune of. One. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars.”

  Blue tried not to smile. Really, he did.

  But she was just so beautiful, especially all fired up, blue eyes flashing, pink staining her cheekbones.

  Of course, as with so many other things with this woman, she misinterpreted his reaction.

  “Wipe that fucking smirk off your face,” she snapped, pushing past him.

  Heels clicking on his hardwood floor, ass swaying in that black dress—

  “Eyes up here, asshole.”

  He’d gotten distracted by her legs, all that smooth, tanned gorgeousness, and r
emembering how they’d felt wrapped around his hips.

  Blue’s gaze whipped to hers. “Hi, beautiful.”

  Her lips pressed into a flat line, and he couldn’t stop himself from closing the distance between them, from brushing his thumb across the bottom one. “Don’t,” he murmured. “Don’t do that.”

  Her mouth parted slightly, a little puff of moist air escaping to glaze the pad of his finger.

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Hurt these lush lips.”

  A sniff. “You’re drunk.”

  He shrugged, turned back to the couch, crossing over to plunk down onto it. “So?”

  Silence.

  He flicked his stare over to her, feeling less buzzed by the moment.

  Well, less drunk on alcohol and more drunk on Anna.

  God, she was pretty and smart and . . . called him out on his shit. Only two of those things were characteristics he’d thought he wanted in a woman. But with Anna, that trifecta was only the beginning of all the things he liked about her. She was loyal and funny, kind and freakishly organized. He desperately wanted that other night to have been the start of something . . .

  And he just didn’t know how.

  Not when his plan was—

  Fuck your plan.

  There it was.

  Such a simple fucking answer and—

  Anna dropped his credit card on the coffee table. “All paid up. No need to redeem that date.” She hesitated for a heartbeat before sighing. “Well, you’re welcome, I guess.”

  A click of her heels as she spun toward the door.

  “Wait.” Blue was on his feet before he realized he’d moved. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m screwing this all up. I—” He shook his head. “I’m not supposed to like you.”

  “Wow.” Her laugh was brittle. “Thanks, I guess?”

  “No,” he said, taking her hand. “That’s not what I mean. I-I had this picture in my head of the woman I wanted to be with. Sweet and kind and . . . calm, I guess. You’re not those things—”

  She pulled back.

  “You’re tough and abrupt and don’t care that you don’t have a lot of friends. You’re independent and never hesitate to call people on their shit—”

  “I think I’ve heard enough,” she said softly.

  “Anna, I’m trying to tell you that it’s good you’re the way you are.”

  A heartbeat of silence before a shadow crossed her eyes. “Sure, you are.” She dodged him when he would have snagged her arm. “Bye, Blue.”

  “Wait.”

  She didn’t.

  And he didn’t go after her.

  Fucking pathetic coward.

  Nine

  Anna

  August and September passed in a blur.

  Anna had signed up for a full load of classes at the local community college, knowing she needed to get back into the swing of school and homework and—giant ugh coming—Blue Books and Scantrons.

  Most of her waking moments had been full to the brim—the mornings with classes, the evenings with math problems she hadn’t seen in years and reading and so many essays that she thought she’d go crazy—but she had managed to both squeeze in some free time to spend with Brayden, Max, and Angie and also applied to several of the local four-year colleges for their winter trimester.

  And now she had returned from classes to a full mailbox, on top of which was an envelope from her top choice.

  One she’d been staring at for a solid two minutes.

  A normal-sized envelope.

  Wasn’t it supposed to be bigger?

  She snorted, tucking it into her bag before taking the two flights of stairs up to her apartment. That’s what they all said.

  Oh well, it was probably too much for her to actually expect to have gotten in on an odd trimester after a long break from school on her first try. She’d stick with community college for a bit, knock off some of those general ed requirements.

  By the time she was unlocking the door to her apartment, she was slightly out of breath and sweating.

  Textbooks were heavy.

  Who knew?

  Another snort.

  And apparently, she was turning into a snort monster.

  Lame, but Brayden would have laughed.

  “Come on, Anna,” she murmured, extracting her keys and pushing in through her front door, her heart heavy from missing Brayden. “Get it together.”

  Bray was well adjusted and happy, excited to be his dad’s best man in the upcoming wedding.

  Anna had teased Max and Angie about jumping the gun into marriage, but she couldn’t exactly fault their logic. A wedding during the season would be tough. It would have to be crammed into a non-game night, and a honeymoon would be hard to pull off.

  So it was either do it now, before the season really got going with a short honeymoon, or wait until the end of the season.

  But even waiting was hard to schedule with playoffs going for who knew how long and teammates traveling home for the summer break. The wedding would be easier to host when everyone the happy couple wanted to attend would be close by.

  Her phone buzzed just as she’d set down her heavy backpack and turned back to throw the dead bolt.

  She pulled it out of her pocket and smiled.

  Brayden had recently gotten one of those phones where he could text three people and Anna was one of the three.

  Gold star for her.

  Or maybe that would convince Blue she did actually have friends, even if they were only nine.

  “You don’t care that you don’t have a lot of friends.”

  Yeah, that one stung.

  Look, she got it. She could come off rough and sometimes she said stuff without a polite sugarcoating, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about other people, that she didn’t feel. She loved and hurt and cried at Grey’s Anatomy, just like everyone else.

  She just had a few more walls in place to protect her when those she cared about left her or died or cut her off.

  Because people didn’t really stick.

  Not for a lifetime . . . or at least not with her they didn’t.

  Her own parents had left one day then never returned. No one knew if they were alive or dead and, frankly, Anna had stopped caring about either outcome a long time ago.

  Or tried to anyway.

  Because it hurt.

  Being abandoned hurt. Fancy that.

  And . . . sarcasm to cure bone-deep hurts for the win.

  Anyway, her grandmother had taken her in at first, but hadn’t been able to care for her for long—she’d been ill with a progressive neurological disorder for years—and so Anna had been shuttled between aunts and cousins during her grandma’s ever-increasing hospital stays.

  And when her grandmother had died, Anna had ended up in a group home.

  Nine years old.

  Alone.

  And so now she’d had twenty years on her own.

  She hadn’t been one of the lucky ones. There hadn’t been a fairy tale ending, no fantastic foster parents to rescue her—though she was grateful for the ones who were out there for other kids. Her situation just hadn’t been that.

  Clothes in a black garbage bag, meals sometimes few and far between, dirty hair and itchy skin from running out of shampoo or from having to use it as body wash. Noise and crying and kids turning on each other.

  She’d been one of the lucky ones, had turned eighteen after high school graduation and had been able to earn her diploma before being forced out of the system.

  But she hadn’t been able to afford college without working full-time and between tuition, books, rent, and food the couple of scholarships she’d qualified for hadn’t given her enough to live on. Which meant her progress on her degree had been minuscule.

  Eventually, she’d dropped out, taking care of a neighbor who’d fallen ill for a few months, who’d then referred her to a friend who had happened to be Stefan Barie’s mother.

  The Gold captain had been here in Calif
ornia when his mother had fallen ill back in Minnesota, and luck had been on Anna’s side because she’d only been in the next town over, renting a shitty apartment with her lease up the subsequent month.

  She’d moved in with Diane, had driven her to her doctor’s appointments, held her hand when she’d been sick from chemo, had prayed and wished and hoped she would recover.

  Diane had recovered.

  She’d also moved to California, left the cold and snow and humidity behind.

  And Anna. She’d also been left behind.

  Which wasn’t a fair thought because Anna wasn’t Diane’s responsibility. She was an employee, plain and simple. Plus, it wasn’t like they’d forgotten about her. When Max had needed help with Brayden, Stefan had recommended her.

  And taking care of Brayden had been the best thing she’d ever done with her life.

  So yeah, she was thrilled to be in Bray’s top three.

  Anna? Did you not like my meme?

  She blinked, still holding her cell, and focused on the little boy's messages.

  Dude. It’s hilarious. I was just searching for one that was just as funny.

  Quickly, she scoured her phone for a GIF that was sure to make him laugh. Which wasn’t all that hard, especially because he loved dogs and was thoroughly entertained by butts, farts, and any joke pertaining to either of those.

  A corgi with sunglasses on his butt. Perfect. Sold. She sent it and awaited his response.

  Not to be outdone, he replied back with a pug wearing sunglasses that read, “Stay Cool.”

  Chuckling, she shook her head and pressed the call button on her cell.

  “’Lo?” Bray answered a few seconds later.

  “At much as I love texting with you,” she said. “I wanted to hear your voice. How did your book report go?”

  “Fine. Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I was playing Minecraft with Marcus and we made a house and filled it with like a hundred creepers and then he accidentally made it explode. It was crazy. We tried to run but . . .”

  Anna was well versed in Minecraft and so was able to translate that.