Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
VANYA
He was shaken. That much was obvious. Micah was usually unflappable and always on his game, but not tonight. Watching him on the ice was like watching an artist paint. The way he tracked the puck, the way he dominated the net, the way he didn’t let anything past him.
He was better than me. Not that I was the greatest goalie. I was with the Glaciers because I was decent, and they had an amazing offense. My cracks would start showing if the boys started playing worse. But for now, I felt safe. I was comfortable and cozy in Boston.
And my head was spinning because from the moment I met Micah, all I wanted to do was bask in his presence.
He looked a lot like Jonah, but his personality was night where Jonah was the day.
It might have been off-putting, but I could tell Micah had layers to him, and there was nothing I enjoyed more than peeling those back.
I liked him. More than I should.
And now that he had let me taste him, touch him, pretend for just a moment that he was mine, I was obsessed.
Addicted.
I wanted to give him everything he knew he wanted, and then everything he didn’t know was quietly hiding in his subconscious. All those little things he’d always been afraid to ask for.
And I wanted to keep him as my own.
My pretty little goalie.
But I would take friendship over anything else, if that was actually what he wanted. I would take anything lasting so long as it meant he would stay in my orbit. I was selfless enough to back away if that’s what he needed, but I was too selfish to let him go entirely.
It was lonely here in this place where I didn’t grow up. It was better, of course. Safer for me to be who I was. But I missed home. I missed where I could freely speak my language and not feel like my tongue was getting stuck to the roof of my mouth.
I missed not being noticed.
I was a nobody back home. A little different-looking from everyone else because of my birth mother, but not so different people did a double take and wondered who I was. What I was. Where I came from and why I was there.
Here—in this little corner of the world—I was someone, and that made my anxiety so much worse. I never told a soul about it, of course. It would piss off every other Russian in the league if I admitted to having anxiety where anyone could hear me.
It wasn’t that we didn’t suffer—it was that we weren’t meant to express weakness to anyone.
That had always been my downfall. That had been the tender, vulnerable spot that the boys in the KHL went after. The NHL was different—maybe not entirely better, but it was a softer place to land when I fell.
I didn’t know how long I would last. I really wasn’t a star goalie.
I wasn’t winning trophies or setting records.
I would be forgotten as quickly as I had become known.
But if I could make a little nest egg for me and my family, buy a little house in Montreal and retire there, I could maybe know what happy meant.
The drive to my place was quiet. Micah agreed to eat, then let me pick his burrito, and I went into the shop because the guys behind the counter were always so nice and never once made fun of my accent or my inability to remember that English used so many fucking articles.
I held our food in my arms like it was a precious meal I had hunted, killed, and cooked myself, then made the drive back to my place. I had a secured parking spot right outside of the building, and it was easy to haul Micah’s bags up the three flights of stairs.
He wasn’t winded as he moved up behind me, and he didn’t hesitate when he took my arm once we reached the landing.
“Is here,” I told him.
“How many doors in this hall?” he asked.
“Just mine. Is my building.” I punched the code into the keypad, then frowned. “I will show you lock soon. Is probably not difficult to remember.”
“I’m not gonna worry about it,” he said in that same tone he’d been using that told me he didn’t actually want to be here. I would have been offended if I didn’t understand, but I liked my home. It was my sanctuary.
And Micah’s had been threatened.
I could hear his phone buzzing the entire drive, and I wanted to smash it against the wall, almost like his creepy stalker would have felt it. I said nothing, of course. There was no point.
I was still reeling over the fact that Hunter had shown up again. That he’d violated Micah’s peace at the arena twice. And before that, he’d followed him out of town to a club and tried to ruin him there.
I knew this wasn’t going to be the end of it. Micah promised to talk to me about it, but I wasn’t going to hold him to that now. He looked defeated and exhausted, and if I could give him anything, it was a reprieve.
“Tell me how to give you tour,” I said once the door shut behind us. I dropped his bag by the door and kicked off my shoes. “So you don’t get lost.”
Micah’s brow furrowed, his long lashes fanning down along his cheeks. “Uh…I guess just a basic layout will work. Let me know if you have a bunch of low tables or anything I’m gonna smack my head on. Like hanging plants.”
“No, no. All my plants outside in the greenhouse,” I told him. Not a lie. Gardening was something that took my mind off life.
He snorted. “Why did I totally peg you as a plant dad?”
I had no idea what that meant, so I said nothing.
After a beat, he sighed and set his cane against the wall, kicked his shoes off, then laid his hand on the back of my arm. “What am I facing right now?”
“The wall in…” I searched for the word. “Foyer.”
He stretched a hand out until his fingertips grazed the dull paint. “Okay. I know I don’t need a view, but maybe point me in the direction of a room or a hallway?”
I laughed. I didn’t know if I was supposed to laugh, but something about the way he spoke always made me smile. Turning him slightly, I took a step into the short, tiled hallway, then veered right into the living room.
“There’s big window,” I said, “in front of you. Sofa is in front of it. Small coffee table,” I went on with a frown. There was so much in my home, and I wasn’t sure how much he wanted to know.
After a beat, Micah sighed. “Just tell me what’s going to make me fall on my face, where the bathroom is, and where I can sit my ass down because I’m exhausted.”
“Oh, easy. Okay.” I led him to the sofa, stopping just before the table. “Table is here. You can reach down and feel. I don’t know how many inches.”
“I’d rather you not guess. People always get it wrong.” He shuffled forward until his shins met the edge of the wood, and then he traced his way around it. “And I can sit here?”
“Yes. What is that…” I furrowed my brow, trying to remember that English phrase everyone seemed to use that sounded weird and wrong. “Take…load off?”
“Something like that,” Micah said as he turned and dropped to the cushions, his head falling back with a slight groan.
“You got beat up tonight?”
He passed a hand down his face. “Not that bad. It’s just been a lot over the last week.
” He said that like somehow I didn’t know.
Like somehow I hadn’t been there to witness it.
Or to kiss him better after that first night.
To touch him and rub him until he cried out and came all over me and the front seat of Alexio’s precious car.
I took in a shaking breath and forced the image out of my head as I looked back at him.
Micah dropped his hand to his side, fingers toying with his pocket. “Do you think you can give me a moment of privacy? I want to check my messages.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t read.”
He huffed. “Yes, but you can hear.”
It took me way too long to understand, and when I did, I felt like a moron.
“Sorry. Sorry. I forget. Ah…I will go take a shower, then get bed ready for you. We both need to eat and sleep.” I started to hurry off, but he cleared his throat, and I froze, turning back. “You need something else? Drink or—”
“No, I…” He swallowed heavily and sat up, leaning over his thighs. He had his phone in his hands now, twisting it in a circle with his fingers. “I guess I just wanted to say thank you for everything tonight.”
Walking over, I dropped down beside him and hesitated. “I want to give you a hug.”
He leaned in without answering me, but that was answer enough.
I gathered him in my arms, pressing him against my chest, feeling him go boneless in a way that made me wonder if he was ever this vulnerable with the people in his life.
He had a slight tremble in his body that hadn’t been there that last time I’d leapt into his arms after our air hockey victory.
“Okay,” I said, “I will shower and then come take you to bed.”
He made a choking sound, and once again, it took me too long to understand why.
“Oh. I mean…”
“It’s fine,” he said in a rush. “I know what you meant. Um. Thanks, Vanya.”
I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yes. You are welcome.”
This time, when I headed down the hall for the bedroom, he didn’t stop me.
As I closed the door to my room behind me, I could hear the tinny voice on his phone start speaking, and as much as I wanted to listen, even if I spoke perfect English, I knew I wouldn’t be able to understand.
The speed he and his brother had set their phones to was damn near impossible to follow.
It was just as well. I had another crisis fall on my shoulders the moment I glanced around the room and realized something very, very important.
I had a second bedroom, but right now, it was full of my sister’s things.
Which meant there was only one bed in the place.
And that bed was mine.
I panicked through my shower, then through dressing in sweats, then through creeping back down the hall, hoping that Micah was both done with his messages and still here. He could have easily fled while I was washing my hair with hands trembling like fall leaves.
But he hadn’t run.