19. Sonya
Sonya
I shouldn’t have left the pub the way I did.
I regretted it almost immediately. Leaving, not the kisses.
The kisses were what they always were, hot and electric, one step away from total combustion.
I wanted more than those few kisses, a hell of a lot more, which was exactly why I left the way I did.
Cold.
Abrupt.
It was part self-preservation and part avoidance.
His frustration over our situation was palpable.
And it was, unfortunately, understandable.
But that night I felt it all, the wanting and the frustration.
That one question that he wasn’t asking out loud but was always there between us. Why are we hiding?
When we were together it was hard to remember why we were hiding, but I knew. I always knew. This was for him. I wanted to stop pretending we were strangers, to stop keeping our fun times behind closed doors. I wanted to tell the world we were together.
And more than that, we were happy.
No matter his anger and frustration, this was all for him.
I could handle my dad, or not handle him.
I’d been doing both since I was a girl, dealing with the man and the father.
Nick only knew the coach. The guy who shouted from the bench, who might yell and scream after a botched play, but who also was liberal with his smiles and encouraging words in the locker room.
He was there for them when they needed him, which was more than I could say about him.
None of them knew the man who forgot birthdays, important events like graduations and debate club finals and a slew of others.
They didn’t know the man who thought he knew better than everyone else about everything.
Who refused to budge for no reason other than sheer stubbornness.
Despite his flaws and our rocky history, I never wanted Nick to get acquainted with that version of their beloved coach.
So, I left. I walked away from him, stopped at the table to grab my bag and walked right out of Hat Trick.
Because sitting on his lap and running my fingers through his hair as I promised, or maybe threatened ?
That sounded like a special version of heaven.
The truth was that the longer we teased that line in public, the more I risked losing Nick.
And the more he risked losing hockey, or at least the Thunderhawks.
After days of overanalyzing the situation with Nick, I knew what I had to do. I needed to end things before we were found out.
But even the thought of that left a hollow ache in my chest. End things with Nick?
I couldn’t.
Ending it meant that I’d never hear his laugh first thing in the morning, the way his eyes lit up when I seduced him, or the way they crinkled at the edges when he was really and truly listening to me.
I couldn’t even fathom a world where his big hand would never rest on my lower back or cup one side of my face ever again.
Never kissing Nick again? Un-fucking-thinkable.
I didn’t want anything to do with a world without Nick. No matter the fallout.
I was driving myself crazy, replaying the night at Hat Trick and all the ways I could’ve handled it other than leaving.
Kissing him like that at the bar was risky.
Too risky. Suddenly my mind was focused on all the ways that could’ve ended badly.
So I turned my attention back to work, because whenever life got too crazy work was always there.
Almost always, anyway.
The glow of my laptop screen lit up the dark living room as I went through highlight clips from the most recent game, picking out a few to post across social media.
The win had Thunderhawks fans buzzing with excitement, and I wanted to keep that energy rolling for the upcoming charity event and ticket sales for the next game.
It was all part of the job and I was damn good at my job.
No matter what they thought in Boston.
My fingers moved across the keyboard automatically, copying and pasting text, updating hashtags and adding hockey emojis to posts before scheduling them. I went through the motions, my body on autopilot even as my brain drifted to Nick.
His smile.
His deep voice in my ear.
The way his mouth had tasted after his growled command. “Another.”
The way his long hair brushed over my skin when he kissed me all over.
A firm knock on the front door pulled me from my work and my thoughts.
My brows dipped at the intrusion. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome but it was unexpected. I knew Nick was busy at the farm today, yet hope flared in my chest as I set aside my laptop and got to my feet, crossing the living room with a smile, yet determined to play it cool.
I pulled open the door and pushed down the disappointment that flared. It wasn’t Nick.
“Hey.” Ginger waved and held up a fancy-looking paper bag as she brushed past me without waiting for an invite. Bryn followed closely behind, her expression unreadable.
I stepped aside with a frown, still trying to figure out what had brought the women to my door. “Is everything okay?” Had something happened to Nick?
Ginger sat on the sofa, kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her before she plucked a bottle of white wine and a box of cupcakes from the paper bag.
She looked at Bryn first before she focused the full weight of her gaze—and her smile—on me.
“We’re not judging,” she began, which was a sure sign that she was in fact judging.
“But something is totally going on between you and Nick. Don’t bother denying it,” she said in a friendly tone.
“I wasn’t going to,” I lied easily. I had every intention of denying it but maybe this was what I needed, girlfriends to talk to about this dilemma I couldn’t seem to figure out on my own.
Bryn’s mouth curved into something between a smirk and a knowing smile. “Things seemed, I don’t know, tense the other night.”
Heat pricked my skin as I thought about just how tense things had gotten. I opened my mouth, fully prepared to tell them to mind their own business but the words died on my lips. Seville was my home and these women were my friends. Sort of.
Kind of.
So I tucked my sharp tongue away and let out a heavy sigh as I dropped down on the sofa beside Ginger. And then I told them everything.
I told them how it started with one night before we knew who the other really was.
How I was falling for him. “Maybe I’d been falling since that first night when he called me trouble.
” I smiled at the memory and went on, giving them an abbreviated version of my relationship with my father.
“It looks easy and friendly on the surface, but it’s not.
” I told them about the neglect. The years of strain.
And then I told them the part I hadn’t said out loud to anyone but Nick. “It was my idea to keep us secret.”
Bryn frowned. “Because he’s a farmer?”
I laughed. “No. I might dress like a princess but I love Blaze Farms and I have no issues with his family business.” I wasn’t even offended by the assumption.
“Then what?” Ginger leaned forward, elbows resting on her thighs, eyes wide and expectant.
“It’s my dad. I know him, and right now he’s in this phase where he wants to get our relationship back on track, whatever the hell that means. He’s going to flip out if he finds out and I don’t Nick on the wrong end of his wrath.”
“Wow,” Ginger finally said after a long, uncomfortable silence.
I nodded my agreement. “It felt like that right thing at the time.”
“And now?” Ginger arched her brows as she picked up the bottle of wine and let it dangle between her fingers.
“Now it feels wrong,” I admitted before getting to my feet to retrieve glasses and a corkscrew. “Because Nick isn’t just a turn in the sheets. He’s so much more than a good time. He’s…,” I searched for the right word because saying mine felt too raw. It made me feel too vulnerable.
“Everything,” Bryn answered on a soft sigh. I swear cartoon hearts formed in her eyes.
“It has to be this way,” I insisted, more for my sake than theirs.
Bryn was the first to call me out, starting with a shake of her head.
“But why? Do what you want. It’s not like your dad has exactly been living like a monk.
You’re an adult and so is Nick.” She handed me a glass filled with wine.
“And it’s not like your position in the Thunderhawks organization would make your relationship problematic. ”
She had an excellent point. “But if my dad doesn’t see it that way, it’ll be Nick who pays the price.”
“Only if Jade lets him,” Ginger reminded me. “She gives him a lot of rope but Nick is a hometown favorite.”
I acknowledged her words with a nod. “Yeah, but Dad could make things difficult for him.”
“You should talk to your dad first. Make sure he’s not blindsided by the news.”
I rolled my eyes, appreciative of their advice but annoyed that any of this was even an issue. “I just want Nick.” The words slipped out before I could stop them but they were the absolute truth. I didn’t care about anything else.
Just him.
But I knew that wanting him wasn’t going to be enough to keep this secret forever.