Page 7

Seven

West

“…I saw you out there on the ice.”

My heart skips a beat.

“I hadn’t realized you’d been traded to the Eagles?—”

“Right before the season started,” I murmur.

She nods, takes a breath, and goes on, “And I thought, God —” She shoves a hand through her hair, and I wince at how tightly she grips the strands. “I was so fucking stupid. I have a press pass because I assisted my boss at an event last week, and I thought you…”

I wait, lungs tight.

A shake of her head. “I was desperate and I went to you and I fucked it up because I knew that I couldn’t ask you for help, not after what I did, after how I ended things.”

Another tear escapes and I can’t stand here like this any longer.

Separate.

Watching her hurt.

Not holding her.

“We were kids, baby,” I say, moving closer, tucking my arm around her shoulders and drawing her against me. “We were young and in love and who knows if we would have gone the distance?”

Her words are barely audible. “You wanted to make that happen.”

“I did,” I agree, smoothing my hand up and down her back. “And, yeah, it took me a few years to understand the whys of our breakup, but I got there and I’m not pissed about it.”

“You were pissed in the locker room.”

“Because you showed up out of the blue with accusations in your eyes and barbed words on your tongue.”

She exhales and it’s sharp. “I know.” It’s a whisper before her head tilts back and she glances up at me. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about how I ended things.”

I hate that I can feel the bumps of her spine as I stroke her back, vow to make my first order of business ( after I get her and Quinn set up in my guest rooms) is to get more food in her on the regular. “Like I said, Belle, it took me a bit to understand what you were doing and why you were doing it?—”

She lifts her head, pretty eyes widening.

“My mom told me what she said to you.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “She still feels guilty about it, baby.”

“She was right,” Belle murmurs. “We were too young, and you needed to focus on building your life, not on a girlfriend back home.”

“She wanted you to build your life too.”

Belle inhales deeply, holding the breath in her lungs for long enough that I have to table the urge to shake her and remind her to breathe.

Then, fucking finally, she exhales.

“I did build a life, honey.”

I think of medical debt and the eviction, the bumps on her spine and shadows in eyes I used to know better than my own.

She hasn’t built a life to live.

She’s spent all these years surviving.

And I’m going to do something about it.

I cup her cheek, tilt her head up so her eyes come back to mine. “Let’s forget about the past. For tonight, anyway,” I add when I see the protest well up in her expression. “I have plenty of guest rooms. You and Quinn each lay claim to one until your next move is decided, yeah?”

She’s still, so still, I have to resist that urge to shake again.

“I can’t ask you to?—”

“You didn’t.” A beat. “Which means you’re going to take me up on my offer of hospitality and not argue. Just for tonight,” I add when I see another protest creep into her face.

Her eyes close and she’s quiet for a long, long moment.

Then she sighs.

And I know I’ve won.

“Just for tonight,” she murmurs.

I set the box of donuts on the counter and turn for the coffee pot, not surprised when I hear hurried footsteps and Belle’s hushed voice.

“We need to move, baby, if we’re going to catch the bus and get you to school on time.”

I’m pouring myself a cup of coffee as she skids into the kitchen, eyes wide and worried, Quinn looking sleepy and rumpled as he affects a zombie, slowly trailing her.

I go to the fridge, pull out a Diet Coke, and bring it to her, cracking open the top and pressing the cold can into her hand. “Caffeine, baby,” I mutter. “Quinn, bud. Your backpack is there. Donuts are on the counter, and juice and milk are in the fridge if you want something to eat before you brush your teeth.”

The drowsiness slides from his expression, excitement filling his eyes. “Did you get sprinkle ones?”

“Quinn!” Belle gasps. “You can’t?—”

“Are donuts even donuts without sprinkles?” I ask lightly.

Quinn grins and moves to the box, pulling open the lid and snagging two donuts. One is devoured before he turns for the fridge, and I see Belle’s cheeks go pink, her mouth opening again, a reproach for the kid likely on her tongue.

“Drink, baby,” I order quietly, nudging up the can, distracting her before the rebuke can escape. Then I go to the cabinet and snag a glass, setting it on the counter while Quinn unearths the milk from the fridge. “You good pouring it one-handed?” I ask him, amusement curling through me as he starts in on the second donut.

He nods, speaks through a mouth full of delicious baked goods—something I can vouch for considering I had two myself on the drive home, “Thanks, West.” Which, of course, sounds like “Smanks, Vest.”

Belle sighs, rubbing at her forehead.

But she lifts the can to her lips again and drinks deeply.

Caffeine fix incoming.

I fight a smile as I walk back over to her, murmuring, “Your bag is next to Quinn’s, and your car is in the driveway.” I drove over and got it this morning then took an Uber back to my car, picked up donuts, more Diet Coke, and now we’re here.

The can hits the counter, her eyes come to mine. “You don’t have to do this…” A nod to the donuts, to the front of the house. “Didn’t have to do that .”

“I wanted to do it.” I shrug. “Bonus is, I got to eat some donuts.”

“We’ll get out of here as soon as I?—”

“Belle.” I wait until she looks at me. “Seriously, there’s no rush. I’ve got a big house, and it’s empty.” I bump her shoulder with mine when she starts to protest again. “Way I see it is that you’re doing me a favor by filling the rooms up.”

Another sigh.

But I see the relief in her eyes.

So, I cross a line.

Because I know she won’t be able to say no if her kid says yes.

“Quinn?” I ask.

He stops, spins to face me, mid third donut consumption. “Yeah?” he says, the word garbled.

Belle groans softly.

“I’m out of town a lot and could use someone to watch the house when I’m gone. You cool if you and your mom stay here for a bit to help me out?”

His eyes go wide and he looks around. “ Here?”

“I trust your mom,” I say turning my gaze to Belle, watching her eyes go wide too. “And I know she raised a good kid. Plus,” I add, my lips turning up. “I need someone to play Xbox with when I’m actually here.”

None of that is a lie—the empty house, spending far too much time alone when I’m here, the loneliness always creeping in.

Belle’s eyes have gone wide.

Quinn runs over to her. “Can we do it, Mom? Can we help West out?”

Her surprise quickly turns to anger.

But not at her son.

Instead, she turns murder-filled eyes my direction, opens her mouth, and?—

I dive in to stop the blowup.

“What time does school start?”