Chapter Twenty
Remy
I wake in near-darkness, with a crick in my neck, to the sound of buzzing.
“What?” I mumble as I flop around. I’m so groggy that it takes me a minute to figure out where my phone is, much less where I am. I locate my phone first and pull it up to my face in the dark. It’s a FaceTime from Cara.
“’S goin’ on?” I ask through the fog of my interrupted nap. The screen is too bright. “Cara? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I was going to ask you—wait. Wait.” Cara peers at me at a weird angle, giving me a view right up her nostrils. “Are you wearing his clothes?”
“What?”
“Holy shit, you are! You’re wearing his clothes in the dark. What did I interrupt?”
My brain finally comes back online. “I’m at work, Cara. I fell asleep in the film room.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re wearing his jacket!”
I look down at myself. Sure enough, Owen’s jacket is tucked around me.
It smells like him: cedar, ice spray, and clean laundry.
Warmth spreads through my chest before panic immediately stomps all over it.
I shriek, more alarmed than if I’d looked down to find a tarantula crawling on me.
Even worse, a scorpion. For an East Coast girl like me, those things are the devil’s lobster.
I toss the jacket away, so that it lands in a heap on the floor.
The dramatic overreaction would probably be more convincing if I didn’t instantly miss having it around me.
“I don’t know how that got there!” I clamber up from the sofa and back away, the forgotten phone clutched in my fist. “I couldn’t sleep. I got here early. We were watching replays of old games!”
Like that somehow explains why I apparently fell asleep wrapped in him.
“Ooh, girl, you’re in trouble. Wearing his jacket like a weighted blanket, while on the job? Talk about unprofessional.”
“I have to go.”
Mostly because if I stay on this call another thirty seconds, Cara’s going to figure out I’m halfway in love with this man.
“Hey, Remy, breathe. I was just joking.” Cara’s brow furrows. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not now. Sorry, I just…” I don’t even know what to say. I hang up and stuff my phone into my pocket. Then, with shaking hands, I pick up Owen’s jacket, fold it over the back of the sofa, and go.
I don’t return to the rink. I need to get my head right, and I don’t know how to do that when I’m breathing the same air as Owen.
The conversation today helps me make sense of so many hints that he’s dropped over the last few weeks.
His protective reaction to Lenyx getting hurt.
Little comments about his parents. Even the way he treats me.
Careful. Attentive. Like hurting me would genuinely upset him.
God, all that talk about being a grenade. It’s not just that people expect Owen to go off. He worries about it, too. Like some part of him is always waiting to become the thing he hates most.
So I avoid the ice and go up to the offices instead. Renee looks up from a stack of paperwork and greets me with a warm smile. “Remy! Good to see you.”
“How’s the seafood emergency going?” I keep my tone light.
Renee utters a loud groan. “Oh, don’t even get me started. He’s been texting me updates, and no matter how many times I let him know that it is not my business, it doesn’t slow him down. The man has no boundaries. And I mean none.”
“Say less,” I deadpan, and Renee laughs.
“Fair enough. It’s not your problem, either. But he’s not in today, at any rate.”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could meet with you. Just you. I want to run something by you.”
Renee’s smile fades. “Okay. We can step into Sergio’s office if you’d like some privacy.”
“Please.”
Renee ushers me into Sergio’s workspace, which is a lot more open and inviting when Dante’s not pitching a fit in there. Instead of sitting in “his” chair, Renee chooses her usual seat and spins it to face mine. Her posture is all-business.
“Did something happen with Owen?” she asks.
“Yes and no.” I wave my hand.
“Okay.” Renee’s nostrils flare. “Dammit, I wouldn’t have thought he was the type, or I would have insisted that he be assigned a male handler. I’m glad you came to me. Dante is a real dinosaur about this sort of thing, but we take all incidents of harassment seriously, regardless of him.”
“Wait, what?” I hold up my hands to stop her. “No, Owen didn’t harass me.”
The immediate need to defend him hits me so fast it’s almost instinctive.
“Oh.” Renee droops into the chair. “Thank God. We had an incident with a former player, and I thought… Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter what I thought.”
I’m glad that Owen wasn’t here to witness her leaping to terrible conclusions. “Owen has never touched me without my permission.”
“Good.” Renee’s attitude has relaxed, but her piercing gaze is hawklike. “I was worried, given that Dante’s plan to have you shadow him leaves the two of you alone a lot, and the way Owen looks at you is hard to miss.”
Heat crawls instantly up my neck. I bite the inside of my cheek. Guys are oblivious, but Renee is clearly anything but. Given her daily interactions, her Petty Bullshit Meter must be more finely attuned than mine. “How does he look at me?”
I somehow already know the answer and need to hear someone else say it out loud.
Renee draws circles in the air with her fingers, as if fishing for the right word. “Possessively.”
Close, but my context clues allow me the insight to correct her. “I think it’s more protective, actually.”
The correction leaves my mouth before I can stop it.
“I see.” Renee nods as she considers me. I’m worried that she might see a little too much.
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you today.
Owen’s been doing really well. I’m not sure how much more I can do for him.
” The words scrape against my ribs on the way out.
“It might be time to think about drafting a long-term plan, something your staff might be able to implement. He doesn’t need someone to shadow him, and people have moved on from the punch, and there hasn’t been a repeat incident. ”
“True. You’ve done good work.” Renee rests her elbow on one arm of the chair and balances her chin atop her knuckles. The fingers of her other hand drum the plastic of the arm support. I’m glad that she seems to like me because she’s a hell of a lot more thoughtful than Dante.
“I’ve set up the events. Owen’s the one in the public eye. Other than organizing a schedule of appearances, I haven’t had to do a lot of heavy lifting. He’s awkward, but at least when he’s under pressure, he doesn’t run at the mouth like some guys.”
If anything, Owen keeps too much locked inside.
“True. He does have that going for him. As for ending your contract, I can bring it up with Dante, but it’s not going to happen overnight.”
“Of course not. I’d still want to work up some suggestions for your team. Owen’s particularly good with kids and animals, but I can get more specific in my notes.”
“I look forward to reading your report.” Her tone suggests that we’re done here, but the wrinkle between her brows hasn’t gone away.
“I have to ask. When you say that Owen may or may not have done something to warrant this conversation, should we be concerned? Do you perhaps have another reason for wanting to move on?”
Now would be the perfect opportunity to spill my guts.
I don’t know how Renee would react, but I get the sense that she’d be more understanding than Dante, or even Ezra.
But I no longer see the point. If I can bow out of this agreement without causing problems for either of us, then I’ll buy myself some space.
Maybe I’ll come clean to Ezra when all this is over and let him decide how to proceed.
After all, if the clients are happy and Owen’s image is saved, then there’s no harm done, right?
It’s a little late to be bargaining with myself over this, anyhow.
I decide to reveal a different sliver of the truth.
“Owen recently confided in me about some details of his personal life,” I say instead.
“I have a better sense of why he reacted the way he did during that fight. He’s not aggressive; he’s reactive.
Hockey’s a contact sport. I’m not justifying his initial behavior, but I’ve seen nothing to indicate that his reactivity follows him off the ice.
He’s far from the only player to get swept up in the heat of the moment. ”
“You trust him,” Renee summarizes.
The realization lands heavier when hearing someone else say it out loud.
I fold my hands in my lap. “I do. He’s a good man. I hope that the team will give him the chance to earn their trust back, too.”
The certainty in my voice surprises even me.
Renee sends me off with a promise to talk things over with Dante once things settle down. I take my notes and leave.
On my way out of the arena, I pass the skate shop. Owen’s inside, half-dressed in his base layer, leaning over his stick to tape it. I stand there, caught in the moment as I watch him work.
There’s something hypnotic about the quiet focus he brings to ordinary things.
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there when a noise from behind me makes Owen lift his head.
He smiles when he sees me, all soft and slow.
Every time he looks happy to see me, my common sense loses another soldier.
I’m not looking forward to telling him about the conversation I just had.
For now, I think it’s best to let our conversation from earlier sink in.
“Hey, Remy!” Adler comes bounding up from the general direction of the locker rooms. “We missed you today! Want to come out with us? We’re getting pizza. Real carbs! It’s a miracle!”
Behind him, Owen’s eyes stay fixed on me the entire time.
“Not today, Adler, but thanks for asking. I have some things I need to wrap up.” I fight the urge to sneak one last peek at Owen before I leave.
Cara’s right. I’m in trouble. I’m going to finish this contract out, clean up my mess, and go from there.
No more slip-ups. No more kissing. No more sex.
No more waking up cuddled in Owen’s clothes.
My body immediately objects to this plan.
Which is apparently where my dignity finally draws the line. I let things go too far this time.
I make a solemn promise to myself that it won’t happen again.
The terrifying part is that I already don’t believe myself.