Chapter 9
Chapter
Lennon
This late-November matchup was a brutal contest of muscle and grit. I used to get off on games like this because I pitted my skills, strength, and mental prowess against my opponent.
Tonight…not so much.
It started when Ottawa’s defenseman caught me by the throat. The hold was tight, bruising, and I fought both my memories of the men who’d attacked Vivian and me and the Ottawa player.
I wrestled him off and pivoted on my skates, slamming my fist into his face once, twice—I would have hit him a third time but the referee whistled, skating between me and the man I’d dropped to the ice.
Maxim placed his hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I gritted out. I wasn’t. We both knew it.
Coach Whittaker did, too, and he called me over to the bench. “Take a breather.”
I sat, stiff and quivering, as my rookie replacement tried and failed to hold his own against Ottawa’s dynamic offense.
Rising, I stomped over to Coach. “Put me back in.”
He glanced at me, then gave me a longer look. He lifted his clipboard to shield his mouth from the cameras and spoke. “You lost your shit out there. I’m assuming because of the attack in September. I can’t have that, Lennon.”
“I’m fine. I was just angry with his high sticking and physical play. I’ve got it under control. Put me back in before we lose.”
To punctuate my comment, Ottawa’s star player slapped a shot straight into the back of the net. Blue lights whirred, and our fans groaned.
Coach cursed. “Don’t make me regret this.” He waved me forward and into the game.
I ground my teeth into my mouthguard and skated hard, giving Stolly and Naese and even Cormac some great shots. Finally, Naese did a nice little flick in from behind the net, and we were back up by one goal.
The game ended at two-one, and I felt grim satisfaction…interspersed with a deep unsettled feeling. That D-man’s hand at my throat had brought up emotions I hadn’t known I was feeling. Emotions I didn’t want to feel.
I threw off my uniform and skates and showered, trying to get out of the arena as fast as possible. But that failed when Stolly gasped and pointed at my arm.
“Dude, what’s that?” Stol asked.
“A scar,” I said.
“You didn’t have that earlier…did you?”
“It’s been there since September.” I resisted the urge to stroke my hand over my beard. I knew those scars were covered. Even so, I hated that they existed and proved how I’d failed Vivian.
“What happened?”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” I said.
I felt his eyes on me, as well as everyone else’s in the locker room. I dressed hurriedly and headed home without a word to anyone. Belladonna met me at the door with a tail wag and a whine. I shut the door and dropped to my butt right there in the entryway, rubbing her ears to calm myself.
She scooted forward until she draped over my lap, her muzzle on her paws and her soulful eyes staring into mine.
“I think I’m a fucking mess, Bella girl. I think I need to work through this shit before I do something stupid.”
So even though it was after ten, I called the team psychologist, Amber Needham.
She picked up on the second ring. “Lennon, I’ve been expecting your call.”
“You have? Why?”
“Silas said you have some things to work through. Maybe work out.”
I blew out a breath that held a lot of annoyance and also some thankfulness for my coach. He looked after me—after all of us—and we were lucky to have such a staunch supporter.
I leaned my head back against the door and, petting Belladonna, walked Amber through the issue I’d had tonight with the player’s hands on my neck and the reasons for it—the attack in Michigan in September.
“Wow. It’s completely understandable that you’d react that way. Bodies and minds work through trauma at different paces and with varying results. Talking about the attack, how it made you feel, and how you felt tonight are all good steps to understanding and respecting your healing process.”
“I’m not sure I can heal,” I mumbled.
Amber waited.
I squeezed my eyes shut, annoyed that she was going to make me say the words, deal with the shit I didn’t want to. “This all leads back to Vivian,” I told her with a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Tell me,” Amber said.
So I did. By the time I’d finished explaining about Vivian, my ass was numb, the dog was asleep, and I felt…unburdened.
“Thank you for sharing those details with me, Lennon,” Amber said. “I think we should meet again, either via telephone or in my office this week.”
“Will talking about the attack make it easier for me to do my job?” I asked as I shifted. My legs were stiff, and my toes were tingling.
“It should, but I’m not sure. What I do know is that dealing with trauma means it no longer has as much of a hold over you.”
“I sense a but ,” I said. I grunted as Belladonna clambered off my lap and shook herself. I twisted to my knees and slowly rose to my feet. Those floor tiles were not comfortable.
“I don’t think this is as much about what you suffered that night as what you lost,” Amber said softly.
She meant Vivian.
And she was absolutely right.
We ended the call a couple of minutes later, and I was shocked to see the time.
“After midnight. Wow. All right, let’s go pee, girl.”
I clipped on Belladonna’s leash, and we went outside to the grassy area where the dogs in the building did their business.
I pulled up Vivian’s information, my gaze drawn to the tiny picture of her, laughing as she sat in that canoe. I loved that photo, not because of what she was wearing or even the memory of how fantastic that day had been…until it wasn’t. I loved that photo because of the way Vivian had looked at me. Love had glowed from her eyes and seemingly every pore of her face.
“I want you here with me so bad, Vivi,” I said. “So bad. I wish…”
I cursed as I exited the app, shutting down the chance to contact her.
I’d waited months to call her. Months. My texts had been innocuous at best—just a way to let myself confirm she was still okay. She had to be angry, probably hurt as well. Reaching out now would only make the situation worse.
But I changed my tune almost immediately when I found Naese blubbering in the corner of his house a few days later. As I listened to him talk about his girl, Hana, something akin to excitement rose in my chest and flickered over my skin.
I knew that name—Hana Sato was Vivian’s neighbor. Talk about a sign from the universe! I’d call Vivi, talk to her about Hana, and ease the way for me to get back in her good graces…
Oh, everything was looking up. That’s what I told Amber. That’s what I believed.
Until my monthly call to the detective on the case up in Michigan told me they might have found one of the attackers, and that he’d had Vivian’s credit card in his possession.
“They know who she is?” I asked, appalled.
“Seems like they do,” he said.
“But how? I was on her purse. They didn’t take her cash or license…”
“My guess is the credit card fell out and was easy for him to get. I’m surprised he still had it, because Vivian told me she’d closed the account. Though I’m sure you knew that already.”
I hated that I didn’t, but I couldn’t contact Vivian, not if these assholes were keeping tabs on her—holding on to her credit cards.
Fuck .
Just…fuck my life.
I’d really thought I’d be able to talk to her, woo her, love her as she deserved by now. My free fist clenched and my throat tightened.
This was just how I’d felt when that asshole had threatened her as I lay bleeding on the ground.
But even so, Naese’s well-being and happiness were important… I knew I shouldn’t call Vivi, shouldn’t deepen the longing I had for her, but this was important. Or at least those were my excuses the next day for doing what I wanted to do pretty much all the time: call Vivi. Talk to Vivi. Connect with Vivi.
I had it bad. And I knew my feelings for her weren’t going to fade, despite the reality of our situation. So this opportunity felt like a gift. Anticipation raced up my spine as I dialed Vivian’s number, which I knew by heart. Not that I’d called her— ever —but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.
It had been too long since I’d heard her voice, and I’d missed that sweet, sultry sound to the point of withdrawal. Our lack of connection might be my choice—and it was the right one—but I still very much hated having to cut Vivian out of my life.
Her future came first, though, even if she didn’t know it. And she didn’t, because I hadn’t told her. Didn’t plan to tell her… I was too much of a wuss to explain why I hadn’t followed up on the plans we’d made at dinner that last night we’d spent together. I, Lennon Cruz, the six-time NHL All-Star, was more afraid of…actually for a tall, slender nurse than any opponent on the ice.
Instead of the voicemail I’d expected, her soft voice came through the phone’s speaker and into my ear, head, and, of course, my heart.
“Hello, Lennon. I’m kind of shocked you’re calling me.”
“Vivi.” Her name came out as a breathless sigh that caused me to gnash my teeth. The thought bubbled up, soft and light and utterly sweet in my chest: I missed you, Vivi. God, how I missed you .
“I’m assuming you have a reason for calling,” Vivian said in the lengthening silence.
I had no one to blame but myself for the distance she’d put between us. Well, me and those guys who’d threatened terrible, horrible things…
I blinked away that memory, preferring our last interaction, where she’d hugged me and kissed my cheek before departing to catch her flight. I’d touched my fingertips to that strip of skin just above my beard for days afterward, floating in a miasma of drunken pleasure, even as the rest of me ached from the pain of letting her go. All that euphoria from the briefest of brushes of her lips.
Based on that reaction, I’d have a heart attack of pleasure if Vivian and I ever did more than touch casually. Might be worth it. After years of living like a monk, I was clearly starved for feminine attention.
“Lennon? Are you there?” Vivian asked. “Is everything okay? I should have asked—What’s wrong?”
The worry in her voice brought me back to the present. I cleared the emotion from my throat and refocused on the current situation. “Sorry. It’s great to hear your voice. It’s been too long.”
She let the silence spiral out, and somehow, I felt the accusation through the phone.
But seeing her in person, putting her in danger, simply wasn’t an option. Again, the memory of the assailant, his putrid breath on my cheek as his ugly words accosted my ear, wracked through me.
I’d been doing so well. I thought I was past the nightmares. I rose from my couch and spun in a circle, seeking something to tell me how to move forward with this conversation without spilling my guts or blubbering like an infant.
“So, ah…I found out you live in the same building as Hana Sato,” I blurted.
Better get straight to the point so I could get off the phone. But that thought, of making Vivi a chore , caused my chest to ache. Vivian was the farthest thing from a chore.
I want to hold you close so I can feel your heartbeat against my chest. I want to fall asleep with you in my bed. I want to wake up to your beautiful face. I want to love you fully and completely, as I’m meant to do.
As desperate as I was to say those things to Vivi, I couldn’t. The attacker’s words slithered through my mind like a moray eel—and felt just as sinister as those patient predators. The knife he pressed to my throat still pinned me in place.
A massive shudder ripped through me. Those derelicts would never, ever touch Vivian again. They wouldn’t have a chance to even frighten her; I wouldn’t let them.
I reminded myself that I was making this call for Naese. He needed my help, and I’d do anything I could for my teammates—even rip out my own heart and stomp all over it.
I just hoped I wasn’t hurting Vivian, too, though I feared I was.
Self-loathing skittered through me, like a spider treading over its web. There were no easy ways to get to the happiness I’d mapped out for us. Damn those men for threatening her. If it had been just me, I’d call them out. Hell, I’d gone toe to toe with them before and held my own, three to one. I hadn’t won that battle, but I’d kept them busy long enough for Vivian to run for help.
“Oh. Well, yes, Hana does.” Vivian sounded surprised and a little hurt. Right . I’d brought up Hana Sato, Naese’s ex-girlfriend, and in the process been an abrupt ass to my…nothing.
Vivian and I were nothing .
My throat burned. I rubbed it against my free shoulder, tangling the hair of my beard.
I knew the building Vivian and Hana lived in was safe and clean, but on the edge of the respectable part of town. I couldn’t understand why Vivi hadn’t chosen a safer place to live, especially after we’d been attacked last year. I’d been planning to buy a house before I went to Michigan but decided to hold off after I returned, appreciating the security of my condo while I finished healing.
“Great. I need some information about her,” I said.
“Umm... I’m not sure I should be offering up details about my friend. How do you know Hana?” Acid bit through the line, and I winced.
Vivi couldn’t be jealous that I’d asked about one of her friends, could she? The protectiveness I got, but… A thrill of pleasure at the mere whiff of the thought trickled through my chest before I locked it down.
Stop it, Lennon. This isn’t about you. You made a vow, and it’s not fair to either you or Vivian for you to lead her on. So focus!
“Never met Hana,” I explained. “I’m just setting up a meet-and-greet for one of my teammates, Naese.” I needed to end this conversation soon.
“Oh. Well. That’s not what I was expecting you to say.” Her voice shifted from edged-with-steel to confused.
I bet she was scrunching her nose. She was adorable when she did that. I wanted to touch her warm skin, bask in her presence… I pressed my free thumb to my eye socket, desperate to push away the image of Vivian my mind had created. “Yeah. So, I’m helping him out. Getting him enough intel so he can talk to her again.”
“ Again ? I don’t understand. How is it possible that Hana has met your teammate? And where would they have met? Hana’s always at work…”
“Ah, I’m so glad you asked.” I smiled, enjoying that I could share Naese’s romance with Vivian. This connected us in a safe way, one that wouldn’t end with her being abused, broken, destroyed.
Talking about my friend’s love life was as close as I’d get to my own HEA—yeah, I knew that term and yearned for my own, which was why I’d gotten into reading romances. I liked the hockey ones best. That was egotistical, but some of the writers were clearly fans of the sport. As they should be.
“Do you have a bit of time?” I asked. “Because this story shouldn’t be rushed.”
“Um…yeah. I’m off today.”
“Well, settle in, buttercup.” I took my own advice and flopped back onto my couch, scooching around until I was comfortable.
She snorted at my silliness, and I grinned. This is what I’d missed with her, what I craved—that easy connection we’d shared from our first encounter. I’d have to give it up again after I fixed Naese and Hana’s sad ending, but right now, I got to talk to my woman and enjoy every single second of the call.
Vivian listened with the same intense attention she gave most tasks; I could practically feel her focus through the phone. “Wow. Just… wow ! Hana dated him through high school and college? I’m so shocked. Hana’s never mentioned your teammate.” Vivian turned quiet. “Never. Which means there’s a reason.”
I hadn’t told Vivian everything I’d learned about Hana, and I wouldn’t. Hana Sato deserved as many of her secrets as possible—to share or not in her own time and way. I felt protective of the small, dark-haired woman with the luminous brown eyes in the same way I did Vivian or my own sisters. We all had heartbreaks and shames in our past.
But I could share Naese’s part of the story, and I’d enjoyed the captive audience—not just because Vivi was a good listener, but because it was a connection we’d always have, no matter where our lives took us next.
Yet even as I told myself that, I knew it was far less than what I wanted, what Vivian deserved. I could feel the wall she’d built between us on this call. She wasn’t going to ask me why I’d pulled away, and she wasn’t going to argue my choice with me. And I wasn’t even brave enough to bring it up, to be honest about it.
“Come to think of it, Hana hasn’t mentioned much about her life before she moved out here at all,” Vivian noted.
“Don’t tell Naese that,” I said lightly, pulling myself out of my head. “It’ll break his heart. Crush it.”
She hummed. “Never. I work with cells, not full organs, so I wouldn’t be the right medical practitioner to patch him up.” Humor seeped into her tone. “But I do have a question,” she added.
My heart clenched. Was she going to push me after all? “Sure. What’s that?”
“Why are you getting involved in your teammate’s love life?”
She asked the question as if it were simple, but my heart heard the accusation there. She was the only woman I’d met who I could see myself with forever—not just be with but be happy with. But I’d put Vivian in danger. I hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t matter. We could never be more than just friends—if we could even truly be that. I was pretty sure we couldn’t, and that meant I would eventually have to let her go. With that, my heart sank to my shoes. Why had I thought I could handle this? “Once I have more details, I’ll be in touch,” I said with gruff finality.
Her sharp inhalation caused my pulse to race. “Please, Lennon… Don’t .” Her voice cracked on the last word.
I dream about you. I’m in love with you. The words sizzled on the tip of my tongue. They clung, bitter and yet so sweet. But just because I felt that way didn’t mean I could act on my feelings, and leading Vivi on was cruel.
I needed to stop interacting with her. For good.
“Goodbye, Vivi.”