19. Sahara
19
Sahara
J aw agape, I glance around the room full of women here for book club, all of them wives or girlfriends of the players and shake my head in disbelief. “You’re kidding me?”
“Nope, not kidding,” Brighton tells me and taps the book in her hand. “Brandon Cannon wrote this.”
“Brandon Cannon, from the Seattle Shooters? Six-foot, two hundred pounds of muscle, and can plow down every man on the ice?”
“Don’t let Ash hear you say that,” Gina jokes. “But yeah, that’s exactly who wrote this.”
I close my e-reader, and Brighton hands me the print book to examine the cover, which is your typical man chest and quite yummy. Would Kalen have read this to me had he seen this cover? Yeah, he probably would have and that’s quite adorable. I glance at the name again, incredulous. I clearly wouldn’t have ever put it together, considering he uses a pen name, and I’m not sure I blame him. But then again, Kalen told me Tanner Bang’s nickname is Mitts because he knits, having learned it when he went to college in Nova Scotia. It’s incredibly funny to me how all these guys have secrets, and how everyone on the team, all these big, tough-as-nails hockey players accept everyone as they are, no judgement.
Damn, my parents and siblings could learn a thing or two about acceptance from the Boston Bucks and I know Kalen and I have a timeline but after Gina showed me some of the things Tanner knitted for the players and the WAG’s I kind of want something for Christmas.
“Does Kalen know?” I ask and take my last sip of wine. I only opted for a small glass, as I’m driving back home tonight. Last night after his game, we stayed up way too late at my place and I think the man needs his rest tonight. As much as I want to crawl into his bed, my play starts up again this weekend and our schedule is pretty hectic. We both need a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, that means after Sunday night’s Halloween party, he leaves for a few games, and our time together comes to an end.
“They all know,” Maeve tells me.
I smile at her and have to say, I was nervous about walking into a room of women that I didn’t really know. I had wished Taylor could have come—a wing woman is always nice, but she had school. Gina was the only one I sort of knew, and now, after tonight, I feel like I’m a part of this book club, like I actually belong. It’s true I’m a book nerd, but tonight was more than books. It was about reading, yes, but about friendship, comradery, and…sex. Not in a strange way either, but these women, some who have kids, and some who are pregnant, are open and honest about their bodies and experiences with sex before children, during pregnancy and after children, something that had come up in the book and gave us talking points.
I love that about romance books. People think it’s just about sex, and while I do appreciate the racy scenes, and some which I’d love to try out with Kalen, it’s also about so much more and being able to get together with other women and be open and honest in our discussion is a true gift.
Ah, but have you been open and honest with these women?
I mean, yes, sure, to a certain extent. What they know about me is true, and do they really need to know what happened in the library all those years ago, or that I’m not really who I say I am? Well, I am who I say I am, I’m just keeping some things from the past in the past.
“Wait,” Gina grabs my leg. “I didn’t tell you.” She circles her finger around the room. “We all have tickets for an upcoming. I’ll send out a group message.”
“Ohmigod, you’re kidding me.”
“Nope, we’re all going,” Josie tells me. “We can’t wait.”
“I probably could have gotten more tickets.”
“Forget about that. We want to support you and Taylor.”
A strange wave of emotions come over me, and tears prick my eyes. I must be about to start my period. I can’t remember the last time I was this emotional.
“Now, I’m nervous.”
Gina waves her hand. “Don’t be. Kalen told Ash you were phenomenal.”
Heat moves into my face. I don’t know why I get such a thrill knowing that Kalen talks about me when I’m not around. It’s ridiculous, but again, I love thinking and talking about him too. “I’m not certain I’d say phenomenal.”
Gina gives me a wink. “Well, he would and we trust his judgement. It’s so funny you guys met through Taylor.”
“Yeah, funny,” I agree, my stomach tightening, because while that is true that Sahara met him through Taylor, he knew Darien from a long time ago.
“You’ve only been in Boston a couple of months?” Maeve asks.
I nod. “Yes.” Leaning forward, I grab a carrot, dip it into the dressing and toss it into my mouth, hoping, now that I’m chewing, they’ll talk about something else.
“I suppose I should be getting home,” Maeve says and her phone pings. She grins. Tanner’s mom is visiting, hanging out, and it looks like she and the baby have gone to bed. She laughs. “I love the woman, but finding quiet time has been a bit hard.”
“Something’s hard,” Amelia whispers, and we all laugh.
“Which is why I’m out of here,” Maeve says.
“Do you need a lift?” I ask.
She offers me a grateful smile, and then warmth moves over her face when she tells me, “Thanks, but Tanner is coming to get me.”
I can feel her love for her husband, it’s all over her face and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a teensy bit—or a lot—jealous. “If anyone needs a lift.” I glance around the room and try to slay that little green monster inside me when they all decline.
We chat about what to read for next month, and I resist the urge to ask if I’m invited, but I can’t come right out and say that I won’t be with Kalen. They don’t know this is just a hook-up with an expiry date and I’d rather they didn’t.
After choosing a romance based on true events that happened in the Halifax Harbor, by a Nova Scotia author, we all help with cleanup, and Brighton’s walks us to the door. Ash is the first there to pick up Gina. Apparently, his dad had taken Maria’s boys, Lucas and Josh, to the shop to work on vehicles. From what I understand, Maria, who works for Gina and lives in the apartment above the Nook, have some sort of history back in California.
A cool breeze rushes in and Gina rushes out. The temperatures are still above freezing so I’m not worried about driving on slippery roads. I make my way to my car as everyone piles in with their boyfriends and husbands and a noise from behind me, footsteps to be precise, grabs my attention and I spin around. My hand goes to my chest when I see a shadow emerging from the darkness, and while I thought I was over the fright of the break-in, perhaps that’s not entirely true.
“Hey, Sahara. It’s me.” Kalen comes from the shadows and I suck in a fast breath. “I’m sorry, babe.” He pulls me to him and I practically melt into him.
“You scared me,” I admit.
“Babe, I didn’t mean to. I texted to let you know I was going catching a ride with Noah so I could ride home with you. He took Camry and Tate to a movie.”
“I didn’t check my phone.”
He rubs my arms up and down, creating heat from friction. “That must mean you had a great time.”
“I really did,” I gush. “What a bunch of amazing women. So inclusive.”
He laughs. “We’re not in high school anymore.” Something comes over him, something dark and sad.
“What…what do you mean by that?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer. Is he thinking about that nerd no one really talked to?
“I just mean high school kids are not always the nicest.”
“You…you didn’t have a hard time in high school.” Shoot, I should have posed that as a question, not a statement. He arches a brow and I hurry on with, “I just mean, look at you.” He chuckles.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I guess I always thought athletes had it easy, you know. Popular, given breaks by teachers, loved by all.”
“Moving during high school is never easy, Sahara.” He looks down the road, something haunting him as a car drives by and honks. He waves and continues with, “I think it might have been easier for me because I had hockey, and it’s mostly true what you said about athletes. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for others.”
“No, you’re right.” I glance down at the pavement, as I revisit old hurts.
“Hey, are you okay?” He tips my chin up. “Did you have a hard time in high school?”
“No, I’m just tired.” Half-truth, half-lie. Ugh.
“Okay, let’s get you home.”
I pull the keys from my bag and he takes them from me. I plant one hand on my hip. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Driving you home.” He pauses, a wave of panic overcoming him before he winces. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just…ugh.” He tugs on his hair. “Sometimes I can be a little overprotective. I shouldn’t have just showed up. I should have asked. I know you’re a grown woman who can take care of herself and?—”
“Kalen,” I say and put my hands on his cheeks. “I’d love for you to drive me home.”
He blows out a breath and relaxes. “Okay, good.”
I look up and down the dark road near the resort. “As long as I’m not keeping you from anything.”
“The longer we stand here and debate this, the longer you’re keeping me from stripping you off, tucking you in, and holding you next to me.”
I laugh and he hits the fob, walking me to the passenger side. Once I’m in, he shuts the door and I can’t seem to tear my gaze away as he circles the front of the car and climbs in.
As he buckles in, I mention, “That book we read, did you know that Brandon Cannon from the Shooters wrote that?”
“No freaking way. I mean I knew he wrote romance, I just didn’t know he wrote the one you were reading.” He glances at me. “You seem intrigued. Have you ever thought about writing a book or maybe a play?”
“I have.” I nod, and stare straight ahead. “It’s played out in the back of my mind and maybe someday when I find the time…” I turn in my seat and smile. “Do you have any secrets that I should know about? You’re not a secret, spicy romance writer are you?”
“Secrets yes, but nothing as clandestine as that,” he teases.
“So, you do have secrets, huh?” I joke.
He grins. “Nothing big. Nothing like being a writer.” Under his breath he adds, “Or having a secret life and affair like my dad.” He casts me a quick glance and there’s a seriousness about him.
Punch. To. Gut.
But I was the one who opened the door to this conversation.
“Okay, fine,” he admits, almost jokingly. “I might have some bigger secrets.” I arch a brow waiting for him to elaborate, but he starts the car, stares straight ahead and says, “Someday I might tell you.”
“Same,” I whisper, knowing I can never ever tell him any of my secrets, as I wonder what his might be. Heck, he shared very personal, very painful things with me. I’m sad to think he has other things that hurt just as deeply. Unless, of course, he has happy secrets. That almost makes me snort because who the heck has happy secrets.
Right now, however, as his hand snakes across the seat and lands on my thigh, I let my worries fade. I just want to bask in his presence, and how he showed up for me.
“Kalen,” I murmur.
“Yeah, babe?”
“That was really sweet of you to meet me and drive me home.” A bevy of emotions well up inside me and I’m thankful for the dark car.
“Tell no one. You’d ruin my grumpy reputation.”
I laugh. “No one thinks you’re grumpy. At least, I don’t think they do.”
Just then my phone pings and I pull it from my bag and read a message from Taylor. I grin, but it’s hidden in the dark, which is a good thing, because Kalen is watching me and I do not want to tell him that his sister just asked me to keep him occupied.
God, I really hope she knows what she’s doing, because I sure as hell don’t…