Chapter 11 #2
“Would you mind if I had a drink of water?”
She’d been in the process of pulling her tie from her hair and smoothing her strands into a fresh ponytail, but she stopped mid-motion. “Um, sure.”
“And hey? How about leaving your hair down?” He offered her a half-smile he hoped wasn’t a leer. “It looks nice like that.”
She blinked, like a motorized doll with a battery overload.
“Plus,” he pushed, “don’t you get headaches with it pulled back like that all day?”
“Sometimes.” She tucked a strand behind her ear before stuffing the tie into her front pocket. She fetched a filtered pitcher from inside the fridge, poured water into a colorful striped glass, and handed it to him.
He sipped slowly as he watched her. She was nervous as a cat at a dog park, eyes bouncing around the space without ever landing on him. This wasn’t the Ice Princess or the competent physical therapist persona he was used to.
“Is me being here making you uncomfortable?”
Her wandering gaze settled on him. “A little. I could lose my job if someone finds out.”
“Who’s going to find out? Do you have co-workers that live around here?”
“Not that I know of, but someone might drive by and recognize your truck.”
He set the glass on the chipped tile counter. “Seriously, Ange? I know she’s severe, but do you really think Attila the Bun trolls the employees, cruising by their homes looking for signs of inappropriate ‘fraternization’?”
Angie shook her head, and the start of a smile teased her lips.
“Besides, if she did happen to drive by and see my truck in front of your house, that wouldn’t mean anything was going on.
I might have stopped by to pick up some exercise bands for my rehab.
Or how about this? Your battery was dead, and I followed you home after jumping your car to be sure you got here safely. ”
“I guess it doesn’t sound all that bad when you say it like that.”
He closed the distance between them and looked down at her. “Stop worrying. You’re a terrific therapist, and they’re not going to fire you because a patient was worried about you getting home safely.”
“You think I’m a terrific therapist?” The vulnerability that shone in her eyes did something funny to his chest.
“The best.” And in the most natural move, as if he’d done it a million times, he cupped the side of her face and smoothed his thumb over her soft cheek.
She didn’t fight his touch. “I really am sorry about running out on you that night. It makes me a little sick to my stomach when I think about it now.”
There went her eyes again, sliding to the side and back again. “Yeah, well, we were both a couple of dumb kids.”
“Maybe, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how I could have handled that differently. I’ve also been wondering how things might have turned out if I hadn’t been such a dumbass.”
Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and for a moment he thought she’d pull his hand away. Instead, she leaned into his palm. “I was kind of crazy about you back then,” she whispered.
Now it was his turn to be surprised. “You were?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I had no clue, but then again, I didn’t have a clue about a lot of things.” He inched his fingers between her strands.
“Well, it’s not exactly something you confess to your best friend’s boyfriend.”
Now he was all kinds of intrigued. “Did Brianna know?” Angie shook her head. “How long?”
Her mouth curved into a shy smile. “Probably started the first time I met you. You seemed so … sad.”
“I remember that. It was my first day there, and the first time I’d been away from my family. And my mom …”
“You’d lost your mom not long before,” she added quietly.
“Yeah.” He had been heartbroken and so damn homesick, but his dad had insisted he go. He’d told Sam the change of scene would be good for him and that hockey would be a great distraction. Time had proved his dad right.
Besides the game, though, something else had helped him through that turbulent time: Angie’s bright smile, her kind eyes, her sweet voice. Simply being around her had soothed his soul.
That sweet voice brought him back to the present. “Have you ever thought that maybe losing her was the reason you got so consumed with hockey?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Did it matter now, though?
Maybe. His life was so damn skewed in one direction it was hard to unravel cause and effect, especially from that long ago.
Angie’s words bumped along in his brain.
“Have you ever thought about what you’d be doing if you weren’t playing hockey? ”
A crack opened up in his chest, and a hollow feeling swamped him. Suddenly, he didn’t want to go home to his empty luxury apartment. But she didn’t want him here either.
“I should probably go.” He withdrew his hand and instantly felt the loss of her warmth, which drove him to reach out again, stroke her hair, and toy with the ends.
He was mesmerized by the texture, like fine silk slipping through his fingers.
“But, Ange,” he murmured, “it’s the last thing I want to do right now.
Would it be okay if I stayed a little while longer? ”