Chapter 15
. . .
Will
Showing up at Drew’s office was all I could think about when I got in my car after the worst morning skate I’d ever had.
Tristan wouldn’t even look in my direction, let alone speak to me. It was the same with all the guys, apart from Silas, who I could tell was disappointed in me, even if he didn’t say it out loud.
Pushing through the entrance of First Line PR, I stop midway to the reception desk when I feel a vibration in my pocket and pull out my phone. The voice message Drew left for me earlier remains unanswered because I’m still working on building up the courage to listen to it.
I know it won’t be pretty, and I deserve every ounce of her wrath.
Silas
Riley’s Bar at 7 tonight. I want you all there so we can sort this shit out. Once and for all.
Mason
Does Coach know about this?
Silas
Coach was the one who asked me to get you guys together.
Tristan
I can’t make it. I have something else going on.
Silas
Attendance isn’t optional.
Me
I can be there.
Silas
Good. I’ll assume the same from you, Tristan.
Tristan
It doesn’t look like I have much choice.
Mason
Guys, I get the importance of this, but do I really need to be there? I genuinely have something I can’t miss tonight.
Silas
You’re excused because you don’t make a habit of pissing your teammates off or posting about them online.
Me
Is everything okay, Mason?
There’s something about Mason’s last message that doesn’t sit right with me, especially after his flat mood this morning. At first, I chalked it up to my stupidity online, and now I’m thinking it was over something else.
Mason
In the interest of transparency, no, not really.
Silas
Is there anything we can do to help?
Mason
Unless any of you is a secret expert in marriage counseling, then, nah, I think I’m on my own with this one.
And just like that, all my troubles feel insignificant.
Me
I’m not a marriage counselor, but you are never on your own. I’m always here if you need to talk through anything.
Tristan
Same, man.
Silas
What’s the latest with Eloise? Shit, Mas, I’m sorry. I thought you guys were doing well.
I had no idea that Mason’s marriage was struggling. From the outside, their relationship looked solid. I guess it’s true when they say that you never know what’s really going on in someone’s life.
Mason
She keeps threatening to move back home to France.
Her parents want her to, and right now, I’m doing all I can to convince her to stay.
She hates it in Seattle, but refuses to leave the house and make friends.
Marriage counseling feels like the last roll of the dice to try and make things work.
During the summer, I thought we were making progress and the scars from the past were starting to heal.
Then the regular season started back up, and … yeah, everything’s going to shit again.
“Can I help you?” A bright-faced blonde woman smiles at me from behind the large white reception desk.
I blink a couple of times and lock my phone, still thinking about Mason.
“Hi,” I say, approaching the desk. “I’m—”
“I know who you are,” she says with a chuckle. “Are you here to see Drew?”
Impressed at her attentiveness, I nod once.
“I don’t have an appointment with her, but I was wondering if you could call her and ask if she had a spare hour to talk.
” I thumb behind me toward the glass double doors I just walked through.
“I’m in need of breakfast, and I’m pretty sure she could use some too. ”
The lady just grins and picks up the phone, keying in a few numbers but keeping her attention firmly on me.
“Hey, Drew,” she says after a few seconds. “I have Will Jones downstairs in reception for you. He wants to know if you can join him for breakfast.”
She listens for a moment and then puts the receiver to her chest. “She wants to know if you’re paying.”
I burst out laughing. This girl is all kinds of hilarious.
“Yeah,” I say, pulling out my wallet and waving it at the receptionist. “Anything she wants—cheesecake, hot chocolate, an ice cream sundae—it’s on me.”
The woman looks confused, and I’m not surprised. None of those items are considered breakfast food.
Another couple of seconds pass before the receptionist ends the call and points to a row of cream seats lining the left wall. “Take a seat for me, Will, and she’ll be right down.”
“Are you going to look at me?” I ask Drew, sounding more desperate than curious.
This Waffle House has nothing on the menu I can eat. Even the fruit salad is likely full of additives.
Conversely, the woman sitting opposite me is studying waffle toppings like she’s considering ordering all of them.
Or maybe she’s deliberately avoiding eye contact because of what I did last night.
I wouldn’t blame her if she was, but still, I need her to give me her eyes so she can see the sincerity in the apology that I’m about to give her.
“I’m just so freaking mad at you, Will,” Drew declares, fingers gripping the menu even tighter.
“All right, what can I start you guys with?” The server looks between us both, obviously not recognizing me.
I motion to Drew for her to go first.
“I’ll get a black coffee and your berry surprise waffle stack, please.”
“And for you, sir?”
The server’s attention rests on me, and I pull my ball cap lower.
“I’ll just get a freshly squeezed orange juice, please.”
The server waits for me to add to my order.
“That’s all I want, thanks,” I finish with a smile.
She turns away before looking over her shoulder at me, a flirtatious glint in her eyes, which, ordinarily, I’d appreciate.
Right now, all I want is to gain Drew’s trust and turn her frown into the smile I picture when I’m not in her presence.
“You have every female in this town wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?” Drew’s tone is almost accusing and definitely not friendly, but, hey, she’s at least looking at me now.
“All but one,” I breathe out, pulling off my cap and setting it on the table.
She looks really pretty today, and I wonder if she’s wearing any makeup. It’s the first time I’ve seen the faintest smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Drew’s hair is pulled into a loose ponytail. It’s a relaxed look and a complete contrast to her tense shoulders.
I know her stress levels have everything to do with me, and I feel fucking terrible for letting emotions override my better judgment last night.
The truth is, watching her leave with Tristan bothered me, and even though I regret making the post, I’m still desperate to know what happened after they left.
Did he just give her a ride home?
Did she invite him into her apartment for a drink?
Did he wake up in her bed and drive straight to morning skate with the same smug smirk he was wearing the entire time he was on the ice?
“Thanks,” Drew says, taking her coffee from the server, and I pull the glass of juice toward me, turning it around on the table. “Well, I’m pissed off at you for posting what you did.” She adjusts the collar on her white blouse. “Did you ever consider what would happen if Repeet saw it?”
No. I was too busy thinking about where Tristan’s hands were wandering.
I shake my head and rid myself of invasive thoughts.
“Did you go home with him?” The question leaves me before I can stop it.
Drew sits back in the booth and empties a sachet of sweetener into her coffee.
“If you’re asking if he took me home and then immediately drove back to his place, then, yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”
Frustration bubbles inside me, along with the same emotion I felt last night, but won’t acknowledge because it’s crazy for me to have a problem with Drew hooking up with any guy she chooses. When I was in college, I never even thought about what—or who—she was doing.
“I don’t understand why you have such an issue with Tristan. It doesn’t look professional.”
I hold up a hand because if I have to hear the word professional one more time, then I’ll lose my shit. On the ice, I’m the ultimate pro, but off it, I’m not, and it’s about time I accepted that I’ll never be the NHL’s golden boy.
“I have my reasons for not liking him, and part of me bringing you here was so I could explain my actions, even if they were wholly unjustified.”
Drew takes a sip of coffee. “What was the other part?”
I swallow and push my juice away. “I wanted to apologize. Away from your colleagues and boss and the bright lights of the office. I’m really fucking sorry.
The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you or the career I know you’ve worked so hard on.
Even in the weeks since we’ve been working together, I can see the positive influence you’ve had on me, and I should’ve held it together, even when Tristan was goading me. ”
Drew looks at me, blue eyes examining me carefully. I never realized how big they were until I started sitting opposite her more often, like in the restaurant that time she forced me to eat cheesecake.
“What happened between you two?”
I feel my shoulders slump. “If I tell you, then you’ll judge me.”
“Why don’t you try me before you assume how I’ll react?”
She makes a good point, although I know she’ll think I’m a piece of shit for what I did to Hallie.
“Back when I was in college, I unknowingly slept with Tristan’s younger sister and broke her heart. I thought she was looking for fun, like I was, only to realize that she was into me and wanted more than casual hookups.”
Drew quirks a brow at me. “Did you make it clear that you weren’t looking for anything more with her?”
I shrug. “I didn’t think I had to. Everyone knew about my reputation as a fuckboy who never dated seriously.” My eyes briefly connect with Drew’s. “But I think it was when I banged her best friend that shit got really messy.”
“Will,” Drew drawls, taking the plate of waffles from the server.
Picking up the syrup, she squeezes half of the bottle over the top.
I lean forward on the table, a playful smirk tracing my lips. “Did you want waffles and berries to go with your plate of diabetes?”
“Fuck off,” she playfully retorts, shoving the biggest forkful into her mouth.
After a couple of seconds, she swallows and looks thoughtful.
“Say whatever is on your mind, Baby.”
Drew points her fork at me. “Cut it out, William.”
I mouth, Sorry, and wait to see if she’ll tell me what was running through her mind.
“At the risk of overstepping every client-publicist boundary, how many people have you slept with?”
I pull my juice toward me and take a sip to quench the dry mouth I’ve suddenly developed. I didn’t expect her to ask me that question.
“Truthfully? I have no idea.”
She loses her grip on the fork, and it dangles from her fingertips as she gazes at me. There’s no judgment in her expression, but there is disbelief.
“You’re only twenty-two. How can you not know?”
I shrug. “It’s just sex, Drew. No big deal. How many men have you been with?”
She rears back, like the question is only appropriate when she’s asking it. “I’m not telling you that!”
“Oh, come on!” I counter. “Play fair.”
She takes another bite of her breakfast. “Five.”
My jaw hangs open. “That’s all?”
“I only just turned twenty-one, and my parents likely think that I’m still a virgin.”
I burst out laughing. “There’s no way they think you’re still a virgin. You’re just telling yourself that to reduce the secondhand embarrassment of them knowing secrets about their little princess.”
Silence immediately takes hold of the conversation, although neither of us looks away. Our eyes are locked in a standoff, until I do something crazy, even for me.
Standing from the booth, I pull out my wallet and throw a hundred dollars in cash down on the table.
“What are you doing?” Drew asks in a small voice.
I reach down and take her by the hand, and she doesn’t resist, collecting her jacket and bag before I lead her out of the restaurant and into the parking lot.
Not a word passes between us when I unlock the Ferrari and open the passenger door for her to climb inside.
And when I slide into the driver’s seat and fire up the engine, I know this is my last chance to hold back from saying any more.
“What are you doing?” Drew repeats.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I wanted total privacy when I said this. I know it’s probably a really bad idea, but making dangerous decisions is my MO these days.” I puff out a shaky breath. “I can’t believe I’m about to admit this.”
She swivels in her seat. “Will, you’re worrying me right now.”
I shake my head and take her hand, just like the night of the gala. Only for very different reasons this time around.
“I know I’m going to fuck things up when I tell you this.”
Drew looks down at our joined hands. “Did I judge you when you told me about Tristan’s sister?”
“No,” I reply. “But this has the potential to really freak you out, and I’m praying it doesn’t.”
More silence.
I inhale another unsteady breath and acknowledge that whatever happens next between us is inevitable.
I’m into Drew Callaghan. The one woman I shouldn’t want for multiple reasons.
“I lashed out last night because my teammate’s a dick—that bit is true.”
Reaching across the center section, I cup her soft cheek in my left palm. It pinkens in response to my touch, but she doesn’t pull away. Maybe she already knows that I’m crushing on her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her at the gala, no matter how hard I tried.
What the fuck are you doing, Will?
“But that wasn’t the main reason why,” I add.
Her breath hitches, and, fuck, it feels like there’s no oxygen in here.
“I was jealous.” I sigh out the confession. “I didn’t like seeing you leave with another guy because I wanted to drive you home myself.”
Drew’s chest rises and falls more rapidly than before. “Did you just want to give me a ride home?”
Despite the building tension, I refuse to look away from her. A little like my apology earlier, I need her to see that I’m not kidding around.
“Are you seriously going to make me answer that question?”
She just chuckles, her attention falling to our hands once more. “I don’t know what to say, Will.”
I squeeze her hand. “We’re sitting in my car, away from any eavesdroppers. Tell me that you like me, too, or that you at least find me attractive, so I don’t feel like I’m going fucking crazy here.”