Page 23

23

WYATT

I’m afraid to believe what I’m seeing.

Is this really Everly, here at my place?

My gaze wanders over her face. Her eyes are big and dark, her mouth soft and sad. What’s going on?

“Uh. Sure.” I step aside and she walks in past me.

“We just had our ‘family meeting’ at Théo and Lacey’s place.” She drops her purse on a chair and turns to face me, twisting her fingers together. “You know how you always say life is short? So you need to enjoy it?”

“Yeah.” The corners of my mouth tick up. “We’re here for a good time, not a long time.”

“It’s true.” She swallows. “So true. That’s why I’m here.”

“For a good time?” I eye her warily. If this is a booty call, I’m not sure I can resist, but I wanted so much more than that with her.

She huffs out a laugh. “Sort of.” She shuts her eyes briefly and inhales. “Remember I told you how I was worried about my dad? How he keeps forgetting things and getting confused?”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone else has noticed it too. I th-think there’s really something wrong with him.”

Ah, fuck.

She sucks air into her lungs. “And I was thinking that you’re right, we don’t have long here, we need to make the most of it, and I decided I should talk to you.”

“Okay . . .”

“Can I tell you about Gage?”

Fuck . I clamp my lips tightly together and my stomach lurches. I’m not sure I want to hear this. Except... I have to hear it. “Yeah.” I gesture to the couch. The TV is still on, but I muted it to answer the door.

She sits, her posture stiff, her fingers still twisting together. “Gage used to play for the Condors.”

I sit too, keeping some distance between us, which I hate. “I got that.”

“When I was a teenager, about sixteen, my parents had a party one night at our house and he was there. He was... interested in me. He kept looking at me and smiling, and talking to me. Flirting. And I...”

I keep my mouth shut on the curse words that want to spill out.

“I was interested in him,” she admits. “He was older, handsome. He was confident. He was an NHL player. He had a place in the world and people looked up to him, and the way he treated me made me feel... grown up. I was always more attracted to older boys?—”

“Dan Diaz,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

She purses her lips and tilts her head in a mildly reproving gesture. “Since I’m spilling my guts, you might as well know I’ve been to therapy about this, and I’ve come to terms with my so-called daddy issues. Part of the attraction with Gage was knowing that my dad would hit the roof if he found out what was going on. Because any attention from Dad was better than being ignored.”

“He ignored you?” My jaw slackens.

“Not deliberately. My dad loves me. But he had three sons who all played hockey. He had a big business to run. A hockey team. He was traveling all over the place going to games. Those things got his attention. Not me.”

My chest feels like a boa constrictor has wrapped around it. It’s hard to breathe.

“Gage told me he was getting a divorce.”

“He was fucking married ?” I stare at her.

“Yes. And he wasn’t getting a divorce.” She rolls her eyes. “ Then . They did end up divorced.”

“Christ.”

“It was stupid,” she continues in a low voice. “I know it was, but at the time I was a dumb teenager. I thought it was so exciting. We couldn’t be seen together in public, he couldn’t tell his friends about me, he couldn’t meet my friends, I couldn’t tell my parents.”

“They found out, I gather.”

“Yes. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I took a risk of having Gage come over when they were out. I knew they could come home anytime. Probably deep down inside I wanted to get caught. I wanted them to know what was going on. Actually, I’ve realized there was part of me that was scared about what was happening with Gage... because I knew it was bad. And they did come home and find us together.”

My teeth are clenched so tightly, my molars are in danger of cracking.

“We were on the couch, making out,” she adds, reading where my mind has gone. “You can imagine the scene. I thought my dad was going to have a stroke. I was even worried about my mom. She was crying, I was crying... Dad broke Gage’s nose. There was blood everywhere, Dad was yelling and saying he was going to call the police, Mom was trying to calm him down. They were so horrified. I think when my dad talked about contacting the police and called Gage a pedophile, it suddenly slammed into me what a disaster I’d created.”

“You?” My blood pressure rises even more, heat building inside me. “ You created?”

“That was how I felt,” she says. “And I still do, to a certain extent.”

“He should have been thrown in jail!”

She grimaces. “Well, he wasn’t, and we’ll never know if Dad did the right thing or not. After Mom and Dad kicked Gage out and I was sent to my room and grounded for the next two years...” She smiles wryly. “Mom and Dad talked about it. They didn’t want it all public. It was... sleazy, I think was the word they used.” She bows her head. “It made me feel sleazy. And I was so angry. I thought this was the man I loved and we were going to be together, and they’d ruined everything. I ran away from home.”

“Oh Jesus.” My hands curl into fists, resisting the urge to pull her into my arms. “Jesus Christ.”

Staring at me, she says, “Don’t you think that?”

“Think what?”

“That I was sleazy.”

My jaw drops in horror. “Fuck no.”

She draws in a long, shaky breath, her eyes going shiny. “Wyatt...”

My eyes sting too, my throat thick. I don’t cry very often. I fight the urge back. “You’re not sleazy. That was not your fault.”

She sucks on her trembling bottom lip, a tear leaking from one corner of her eye. “Thank you.”

“Go on. Gage got traded then, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Dad did that. He made sure if Gage said anything about it, one word, or ever tried to contact me again, the world would know he was a creep who preyed on underage girls. He got him out of town. I don’t actually know what happened between Gage and his wife. I assume he probably did the same thing with another girl... s-somewhere else...” She chokes to a halt. “I feel horrible about that, if it’s what happened. He shouldn’t have been able to do that to anyone else.”

“Again, not your fault. He was an abuser.”

“I know now how ridiculous it was to think that a guy his age would be genuinely interested in a teenager as a girlfriend. I wanted to believe he was really interested in me.”

“Yeah.” My chest burns. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, making me want to stand up and throw and smash things. I’m so fucking angry on her behalf I can barely think straight.

“I felt so horrible about what I did. How I hurt my parents, and put them into that situation.” She swipes fingertips over her cheek. “I’ve never totally gotten over it.”

She has to be perfect.

My heart is hammering against my ribs, a hard pulse in the pit of my stomach. “Fuck, I should have shoved his head in a toilet and drowned him in that bathroom,” I growl.

“No. He’s not worth it. And it’s all in the past.”

“Not when he shows up and upsets you like that.”

“I’m okay, Wyatt. Yes, it was a painful reminder. I was taken by surprise when he walked in. And he is a jerk. I...” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “I reacted badly to seeing him. It was a shock. It made me feel like I was making another huge mistake, getting involved with you. Another guy who plays for my dad’s team.”

My eyes narrow. “That’s why you dumped me?”

She sucks briefly on her bottom lip. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

I can’t breathe. What is she saying? She regrets ending things? She wants to get back together? My heart slams heavily in my chest.

Heather... I told Heather I’d think about what she’d said the other night.

I stare at Everly, my eyes burning. I stagger to my feet and take a couple of steps away from her. My gut churns nastily.

“Wyatt?” Her voice is low, tentative. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sordid story. I regret?—”

“It’s not sordid!” I keep my back to her. “Stop saying that. You were a kid. It’s what he did that’s sickening.”

Silence heavy enough to crush us swells in the room.

“Since we’re telling our life stories, I guess I should tell you mine,” I say roughly. I tip my head back, then turn to face her. I sit again, this time in an armchair across from her.

“Okay.” She blinks those beautiful eyes at me.

“I told you Hank was my best buddy.”

“Yes.”

“We were friends since we played together in Rimouski. He didn’t turn pro; he might’ve had a shot at getting drafted, but he decided to go to university instead. He got an engineering degree, got a job working for a big petrochemical company, and ended up moving down here.”

She’s watching me. I think I might puke.

“He met Heather and got married. They had Owen. We stayed in touch. One thing we both loved was skiing and snowboarding.”

Her eyes flicker and her forehead furrows briefly.

I keep going. “We went on a trip together, snowboarding in the Rockies, in British Columbia. The hockey season had just ended for me, we were out of the playoffs, so Hank and I took off for a week. It was gorgeous, perfect weather. We started into our first run of the day, on a double black diamond run on the back side of the resort.”

I stop, pressing a fist to my stomach, memories crowding my mind. “It was so fast. Hank was ahead of me, and then I saw...” I swallow. “I saw the snow in front of me give way. It fell down the hill, so fast, right toward Hank.”

“Oh God.” She covers her mouth with one hand.

“All I could do was watch as it caught up to him. It pushed him toward the trees on the side of the run. I saw his board, and then the snow pulled him right through the trees.” My voice is shaking and I take a few seconds to breathe, the images so clear and horrific to me.

“Wyatt,” Everly whispers, eyes now full of pain.

“I unstrapped my board and tried to run to him, through all the dirt and branches from the avalanche. I saw him in the snow, his feet uphill. His head was against a tree.” I close my eyes. “He was conscious... at first. He called me and I scrambled to try to get him, but... Christ.” I rub a hand over my face. “He kept saying, ‘Wyatt, help me.’” Now my voice breaks and Everly is there, kneeling in front of me, curling her hands around mine. I grip her hands. “There was a hole in his throat and his face was smashed.” Tears slide down my face. I don’t even care. “I was going to undo his bindings, but his leg was basically wrapped around a tree. I took my toque off and tried to use it to stop the bleeding from his throat. Meanwhile I got my cellphone out and tried to call 911, but I couldn’t get a signal.”

Everly releases my hands and rises up, cupping my face. Tenderly, she wipes the tears away. Her eyes are full of sympathy, not judgment.

“I started yelling for help. In between I was telling Hank to hold on, we’d get out, he’d be okay. But... I couldn’t save him. By the time help finally got there, he was dead.”

I lean my forehead against hers, setting my hands on her shoulders. She feels so small... but so strong. For a few moments, neither of us says a word, emotions swamping me, stealing my voice. I’m remembering how I felt, sitting in the snow with my dead best friend, totally helpless.

Finally I draw back. “It’s my fault he’s dead,” I say flatly.

“No! It’s not your fault!” Her eyebrows slope down in distress. “You can’t believe that.”

“It’s true.” I set my jaw. “That’s why I asked to be traded here. Because Heather and Owen are here.”

“You asked to be traded here? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. We kept it on the down low. I had a word with our GM one day, told him the situation. I said I’d like to move to California, so either the Condors or the Golden Eagles. I was lucky. He made it happen.” I pull in a breath through my nostrils. “So I do what I can for the two of them. I owe them. I took Owen’s dad. Heather’s husband.”

“No,” she says again, staring at me. “You didn’t.”

I meet her eyes. “Heather’s in love with me.”

She jerks back. Sits onto her heels. “Oh.”

“She thinks Owen needs a dad.”

Everly’s head is shaking, back and forth in tiny, jerky movements.

“And he does. I try to be a dad figure for him.”

Everly scoots farther away. “Are you... in love with her too?”

“No. But I owe them. I owe them my life.”

Her eyes widen. She looks stricken. She scrambles to her feet. “You don’t owe them your life. That’s crazy, Wyatt.”

“I owe it to Hank to look after them.” My voice cracks.

“Oh God.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth, staring at me. “I’m so, so sorry for what you’ve been through. That’s terrible. I’m sorry you lost your friend.” She stands staring at me. “I-I’m sorry.” She grabs her purse and heads to the door. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Guilt punches through me, bands of metal squeezing my chest. I watch her tear out of my condo.

It’s for the best.