Hot Shot (Hot as Puck Book 2)

22. Branton

Blake Watts has always had more faith in me than I ever had in myself.

Over the last few days, since the night we went into town for dinner, she’s proven again and again my actions didn’t shake that faith.

And if I could just snatch a little of it, believe in myself the way she does, I can use it to shore up my courage. Because it will take everything I have to do what I need to. I’ve put it off long enough.

The nightmares I’ve been having are proof of that.

If we’re going to continue to build this relationship—the way we always should have—on and off the ice, there can’t be any more secrets.

And I’m holding in a big one.

One I’m scared will ruin everything we’ve rebuilt since I woke to find her in my living room.

The same living room she’s been working in for most of the day. I hate to disturb her, then again, that could be my shaky courage finding excuses not to do this.

Excuses like cleaning up our lunch dishes. Throwing two loads of laundry in the washer, switching them to the dryer. Sweeping the kitchen floor.

All cowardly bullshit I don’t want to keep doing.

Snapping my spine straight and pulling back my shoulders the way her dad used to tell us showed we were confident—would make us feel confident—I move across the room until I’m beside her.

“Blake?”

“Hmm…” She’s so engrossed in reading the files of possible Rogue players on her laptop she barely acknowledges me at first.

“Come for a walk with me?” I hold out my hand and wait for her to take it; the ease with which she slips her hand into mine brings a smile to my face.

Her faith, her trust, her support. She offers me all of them freely and even though I feel unworthy, I’m taking them.

Because after I tell her this final secret, I’ll try my hardest to be the man she deserves if she’ll still let me.

“Should I shut down my laptop?”

“No. We won’t be gone long.” Or she won’t if she decides what I have to say is something she can’t forgive.

“Where are we going?”

“Down to the water’s edge. It’s turned out to be a nice afternoon. I thought sitting in the sun and watching the water might be a nice break.” I draw in a breath and force out the next words. “And there’s something I need to tell you and I don’t want to do it locked inside. I’d rather set this last skeleton free outside where it can be blown away by the breeze.”

“That’s rather poetic. And also a little scary. Is this about Celeste?”

“In a way, yes, but mainly it’s about Laura.”

“Then yes, Laura should be out in the fresh air, the sunshine.”

My eyes meet hers. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Understand what I’m thinking before I do.”

With a shrug she says, “I don’t know. I’ve just always read your actions easily. I think it’s why we’ve always been in sync. On and off the ice.”

“I should never have shut you out.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

“It might have turned into a nice day, but it’s still cool out, do you want to grab a coat? It might be colder by the water,” I say as we move through the house.

“We’ve had the doors and windows open all afternoon, I think I’ll be fine.” She pauses by the door to the laundry room. “Should we put our boots on?”

“Are you planning to wade in?”

“No, are you?”

“No. The water is too cold this time of year and I’ve got something else in mind.”

“The boulder to the north?”

There she goes again. Reading my mind. I wish I had the same ability when it comes to her, and I think at times I do. The one thing I definitely can’t do is predict how she’ll react to what I have to tell her.

That’s a skill I’d give all my money to have right now.

“Yes. The boulder to the north is a great spot to sit and watch the water from. I’ve spent many spring days perched there gazing at the water, watching the breeze ripple the surface. It’s a good thinking spot.”

“I thought that the first time I saw it. Even imagined you there.”

She smiles at me with the same love and affection I remember from years past and I wish with everything in me I didn’t have to do this, that I wasn’t about to risk losing it again.

“If we’re not wading, I’ll stick with my runners.”

“We’ll keep to the tree line where the ground should be dry.”

Decision made, we walk in silence as we leave the house and head into the trees. We’re in the cooler shade for a few minutes before I begin to talk. I didn’t plan to start this conversation until we reached our destination but now that I’ve made up my mind to tell her about Laura, I want it done.

And Blake’s hand in mine, the muted light filtering through the branches above our heads, feels safe—right.

“I told you I didn’t remember fucking Celeste.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“I don’t remember it because I didn’t do it.”

“But—”

I give her hand a brief squeeze. “Let me get the whole story out, then you can ask questions, make comments.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t remember talking to her at all, barely remember her being at the party that night, but the next morning I woke up with her in bed with me. Both of us were naked. I had no memory of getting there, no memory of taking off my clothes, so when she told me we spent the night together, I believed her. Although the disgust and disappointment in myself made me want to vomit as much as the idea of touching her, I couldn’t argue. I didn’t remember anything.”

Taking a deep breath to steady the emotions from that morning, all the days since, bombarding me, I continue through the trees at a slow pace. Blake’s hand in mine is a lifeline I need to get through the rest of the story.

“Three weeks later she showed up at my apartment with a positive pregnancy test and a request for money. I wanted to slam the door in her face the second I saw her. Wanted to give her whatever she asked for to make her go away so I could keep forgetting that morning like I’d forgotten the night before it, but then she said she just needed money to get rid of the baby and all I could think about was this defenseless baby—my baby—being ripped away and I couldn’t let that happen.”

Blake’s hand tightens on mine. A silent expression of support and encouragement.

“The next few months were a living hell, some of which I’ve told you, and I think I knew before they handed me the baby that she wasn’t mine to keep. That I’d only have her a short time. But I loved that little girl with everything in me.”

“I would expect nothing less of you, Bran. No matter the circumstances.”

“I loved her every minute of every day until the machines took her last breath. That day gutted me. Her loss devastating in a way I’d never experienced, wasn’t sure I’d survive. But all of that pain was insignificant compared to what followed.”

“Celeste’s suicide.”

“No. Her death brought me relief—peace—freedom. The note she left addressed to me shattered it. Shattered everything I’d believed and tore at what was left of my heart.”

“What could she possibly have said that would be worse than losing Laura?”

“She was never mine to begin with. I never slept with Celeste. Never fathered her child. Laura isn’t my biological child. Celeste just thought I’d be the easiest man to get money out of so she could get rid of her problem. As I read her words, my thoughts instantly went to Carl. They’d hooked up before and she’d tried again after she had Laura, but Carl isn’t Laura’s father either.”

“Do you know who is?”

“Yes. No. It’s complicated.” We reach the water’s edge and I lead her to the boulder and help her up before I say, “She told me in her note who but we’ll never really know.”

“Why would she tell you Laura wasn’t yours then? After everything that had happened. She’d gotten everything she wanted out of you, leaving you that information to find after she was dead served no purpose.”

“Didn’t it? She spent our entire relationship threatening me, hurting me, blaming me for the situation she was in.” I hold up a hand to stop the protest I see lurking in Blake’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter that none of it was my fault. She needed someone to blame and in spite of her actions it was never herself. I was the closest target, the easy target.”

“I don’t understand. Why you?”

“She pegged me for a sucker. She wasn’t wrong. But she also chose me because I was close to the baby’s real father.”

“Who?”

“I need you to know that if I’d known before Celeste went off the rails and did what she did, hurt Laura, I would have said something, done something, made it right for Laura, for everyone.”

“Of course. Why would I not think that?”

“I don’t know who exactly fathered Laura?—”

“But—”

“Did you know identical twins can have the same DNA?”

“No, but I guess it should be obvious if they’re identical.”

“Even science can’t determine the father if identical twins sleep with the same woman and she gets pregnant.”

“I’m enjoying this science lesson but what does?—”

“The twins slept with Celeste.”

“The twins?”

“Corbin and Landon.”

“My brothers?”

“Yes.”

“The twins?”

“Yes.”

“But that means…”

“Yes.”

“Oh god.” One hand shoots up to cover her mouth, her eyes widen, instantly filling with tears, and she presses her other hand to her stomach as she leans forward. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

I don’t know whether to pull her into my arms and hold her or leave her be as she continues to chant ‘oh god’ and rock back and forth.

In the end, the tears sliding down her face leave me with no choice.

I can’t not hold her.