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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Becca

“Please, wait.”

He blows out an exasperated sigh at the sound of my voice, and when I touch his hand, his shoulders fall before turning to face me.

“You may be the only person on earth I would stop for, but I’m not in the mood for… fun.”

“When you said home, did you mean Texas or our villa?” she asks, looking up at me with those baby blues as clear as an Alaskan Husky’s eyes.

“What happened today shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t say that.”

I can’t help but notice the pained expression on his face. “Listen, I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Well, the sex is a good start,” I say to lighten his mood.

His response is a dry huff. Clearly, he didn’t enjoy it as much as I did. To his credit, he gave me multiple orgasms, and he only had one. “Yeah, it was so good, you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Damn, I needed a day to soak it in. And I don’t even know what we’re keeping a secret… that we had sex or that we…”

“We what? Have a connection? It’s always been there but just like college; you push away the chance to be happy. No jocks. No athletes. Got it. What if I were a chef?”

Not once has John ever admonished me like he is now. He’s fed up, and I need to know what Corbin said to him.

“I want to know what we are before we tell anyone.”

“Becca, that’s not how it works. You don’t shove someone you like into the shadows, out of the watchful eye of your brother and friends…

not from our friends. I get it. It’s been a long time since you’ve dated.

But all we had to do was show up to dinner, and I casually slip my arm around you, and our friends would see it.

That’s how they know we’re interested in each other. I wouldn’t announce it.”

He releases my hand, and in an instant, I miss his warmth. It doesn’t matter that it’s eighty degrees at nearly midnight.

“Becca, it’s clear that I’ve always been the one waiting on you.

Waiting for you to see I’m more than a hockey player.

” He shakes his head. “Hell, I showed you in college, and I showed you during the hardest time of your life. Do me a favor. Don’t pretend you feel the same way about me as I do you.

I’m a fun time while you’re on vacation. I wanted more.”

“Wanted?” she asks with her doe eyes.

“After Corbin caught us kissing in the closet, it’s too late to pretend it didn’t happen. I’ll see if anyone has checked out of the hotel. Or crash with Austin. Go back and have fun.”

He has a temper. They don’t call him The Penalty Player for nothing, but underneath, he’s a guy who wants to be loved—needs to be loved. John walks backward for a few steps before disappearing while my feet feel like they’re sinking in quicksand, unable to move.

“Becca, where’s John headed?” Emmaline asks at a higher volume than usual with Oakley next to her.

“Not sure.”

“What’s going on between you?”

“Not sure. ”

Oakley pulls on my elbow. “But there is something going on?” She winks.

“There was. But I don’t know where we stand. Corbin caught us kissing during the murder mystery. I covered with the ginger thing. Or at least I thought I did. Corbin must have said something to John that set him off.”

Oakley’s eyes narrow to slits and her toe taps against the ground then she objects. “Corbin said something to piss him off, or was it you?”

“I guess he’s mainly mad at me. Who knows.” I flap my arms in frustration.

Emmaline says, “You do know. Just talk to him.”

“Go, Becca. If you only want a vacay hookup, then tell him that. Let him decide what he wants. If you want to date and see where it goes, then let John know. We both know he’s been waiting for you to heal.”

“Pfft. Yeah, that’s why he brought his girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend. And Becca, I’ve known you for a year and when you and John were stunting on the beach today, you were lit up. Like the world was your fucking oyster. Was I imagining it? Or is that how you felt?” Oakley places her hands on my shoulders like she’s shaking some sense into me.

“It felt good. For those couple of hours, I felt like myself. My younger self when I was focused and felt safe.”

Emmaline twists her lip, mulling over something I said or my expression. “Safe? So, you felt safe with John?”

Nodding, a tear slips from the corner of my eye.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Emmaline asks. “Oakley, can I have a moment alone with Becca? I’ll be back in just a minute. I’m sure Corbin and Bryce are worried about us.”

Oakley reluctantly walks back into Pier Pressure, and Emmaline grabs my hand, guiding me to a bench. We listen to the waves lap against the poles holding the pier afloat.

“Do you want to talk about anything from your past?”

“No. ”

She lifts her chin, gazing at the midnight moon. “You know, you can’t move forward if you don’t know what’s holding you back. We’ve only known each other a couple of years, but my job is to listen and help sort out the why behind your feelings.”

I stick my finger in my mouth and chew on my nails. Slipping into the past, I shake it off. It was fourteen years ago when I was eighteen, but I don’t say it aloud.

“When did you meet Dennis?”

“About a year after I moved to Nashville.”

“What attracted you to him?”

I lift my shoulders and let them fall.

“Was it his looks? His job? The activities you did together?”

“I guess a combination of all three. He’s nice looking in a corporate kind of way. We were constantly going out with a group of “cultured” people. Fine wine. Intellectual conversations. It was a combination. I liked the fact that he didn’t have to travel for his job, that he would be around.”

“Hmm.”

What the hell does that mean?

“So did you date anyone before him?”

“Where’s the black couch I’m supposed to lie down on?” I hop up. “I appreciate your helpfulness, but I don’t need a shrink. Tell Corbin I went back to the resort.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes I go into counselor mode. If you need to talk, I’m here to listen or whatever you need.”

Emmaline and I have many things in common. We both have brothers who play in the NHL, and we’re natural nurturers. Where we differ is Emmaline is an open book, and I prefer to hold my emotions close to my heart.

There are some things about me that even my brother doesn’t know.

Things he couldn’t protect me from. Scars that I’ve buried so deep, I rarely think of them, but I know how they drive every decision I make.

I often walk alone in the city, and the mistakes I’ve made creep into my thoughts.

I’ve wanted to share my pain with Corbin, but some truths are better off unspoken.

This is one secret I’ll keep buried deep in my core under lock and key.

Because what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“I need to talk John into not finding another place to crash.”

“Okay, but my offer always stands.”

“Thanks, Emmaline.”

After a brief hug, Emmaline and I go our separate ways. The sharp scent of sea salt grabs me on a deep breath, and the pier sways as I make my way to the resort shuttle. Back at the resort, I walk instead of grabbing a golf cart.

My sandals brush against the stones layered with a fine mist of sand.

Hibiscus bushes line this part of the path.

I stick my nose in a peach-colored bloom, and the fresh fragrance soothes me in an instant.

But with each step I take, my mind drifts to John, and my heart pounds as I see the walls of my villa peeking through the resort’s landscaping.

I take a deep breath and keep moving forward. Hoping he’ll forgive me for hiding from my feelings and worse hiding him.

Using my keycard, the door opens, and I’m relieved to hear him rustling around. Then I see him, shoving clothes into his duffel. I tap on the wall to make sure he knows I’m here. He looks up, and our eyes collide. His eyes rimmed with red.

“Hey.”

“I’ll be out of your way. I’m crashing with Austin and Julic,” he says with a bit of resentment or frustration in his voice.

My fingernails dig into my palms as I try to steady the sting of his sharp tone.

I don’t want him to leave like this, not this way.

“Don’t go. I’m sorry,” I say, the words tumble from my lips, raw and I hate how vulnerable I sound, like I can’t be without him.

My throat burns, but the truth is, I don’t want to be. ”

I can’t allow my past to dictate my future and my stupid rules. Blaming every athlete for the actions of two is ridiculous and John has proven that he’ll stick by me, even if as a friend.

I stand frozen, waiting for his response, my pulse hammering in my ears. I remind myself–I’m not weak. I’m strong and I can have a hockey player boyfriend.

His head lifts, and he looks out the patio doors at the darkness, so I walk around the beds and lay my hand on his back, hoping he’ll realize I’m truly sorry. His body shudders, then stiffens.

“I c-c-can’t stay.”