Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
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What just happened?
That’s the question I keep asking myself every step of the way back to my office.
All I know is I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Wade, despite the significant odor coming from his sweaty body. Whoever said there’s no stink like hockey stench wasn’t exaggerating.
I’ve seen him dressed in his goalie equipment many a time, but it’s not just his on-ice workout that made him such a hottie this time. The curl of his damp, unruly hair framing his face, along with his short beard and green eyes—I couldn’t look away.
Not to mention how he stared at me as if I rocked his entire world.
Has he looked at me like that before, and am I only noticing now?
Maybe it’s the uniform—he fills it out better than he used to, that’s for sure.
Or perhaps how he appeared so large and in charge on the ice during practice when I snuck down the tunnel to shoot some footage for the team’s social media channels? The man definitely has moves.
That has to be it. I’m simply impressed by how much he’s improved and mastered his skills and abilities. There’s a reason he’s the starting goalie for the Sun Kings.
When I reach my office, I settle into my chair to create some posts highlighting Saturday’s game and the three special events we have planned. I’ve posted teasers over the last week, but this one will motivate and excite the fans about voting on a name for the arena.
And I love the list of names I’ve curated from the players and staff. I open the email from Rebecca to read what she and Zach came up with in addition to the ones I sent them, and add their two suggestions to the final list.
A zing of excitement shoots through me as I prep the post for the team’s various social media channels.
I enjoyed working for the Texas Stars—minus Chase, of course—but I love working for Rebecca and Zach.
I never imagined I’d find a workplace that’s so exciting and affirming all at once.
Rebecca and Zach have made a point of telling me many times how much they appreciate my work and that I’m making a difference.
The Sun Kings—and Sarabella—feel more like home than Cedar Park. And now that Wade and I are back on a good footing, I feel like my life is finally coming together. No more dumpster fire.
As I’m about to upload my first post, which turned out super clever, my phone chirps. Most likely Wade trying to talk me out of bringing a pizza tonight. I’ll make sure I order a supreme so he sees I am consuming some veggies.
Only, it isn’t Wade.
Chase: Hey, doll. I know it’s been a while. Wanted to give you some space while you settled. Just checking up on the profile piece you promised me.
My pulse jumps into full overdrive, beating so hard, I swear my heart is halfway up my throat. My entire body clenches with panic, making it difficult to breathe.
Why is he texting me? I glance at the last text I sent that made it clear I was moving and never wanted to hear from him again. I should have blocked his number, but I thought for sure he got the message since I haven’t heard a peep out of him in weeks.
Bree: I told you that was a long shot. My connection at the magazine is no longer there. And I told you not to contact me anymore.
Chase: You owe me.
Bree: I owe you nothing, you cheating scumbag.
Chase: Wow. Seems the little kitten found her claws.
I bristle at the use of his nickname for me. The first time he called me ‘kitten,’ I thought it was endearing, until I realized how demeaning he actually intended it to be.
Bree: We. Are. Done. BYEEEEE!
I find his contact information, intending to block him like I should have to begin with, but then his next message pops up at the top of the screen.
Chase: Then I guess I’ll have to tell Carrington about this.
I swipe back to the chat and see an image of a half-naked woman, entangled in the arms of a man, in the throes of passion. I recognize the Texas Stars locker room, but not the player.
The woman has my face, but that is not my body. My cheeks flame with heat, and my eyes fill with tears. I wipe them away and look closer. I’d never—and I mean never—do something like that.
He must have used an actual image and instructed AI or Photoshop to change the face. But it looks so real… How am I going to prove that it’s not me without showing it to someone?
If he brings this to the team owner, my reputation will be ruined, regardless of whether I expose it as a fake, because Chase will blab about all the extra coverage I did for him.
A fresh wave of shame overwhelms me, making me queasy. Why did I let him manipulate me like that? I was so stupid and na?ve, blind to who and what he really is. But even so, I never imagined him capable of this.
I can’t block him now. If I do, he’ll show the image to the team owner, and I wasn’t lying when I said my contact at the hockey magazine doesn’t work there anymore. I have to figure out a way to appease Chase, even temporarily, until I find a way out of this.
Bree: You really did climb out of a manure pile.
Chase: Now, now, kitten. Watch those claws. I’ve already drafted the email. Just have to hit send.
My stomach lurches to the point where I nearly vomit into my garbage can. Sweat breaks out on my face. Taking deep breaths, I push my hair back and grab my phone from where I dropped it on my desk.
Bree: Fine. I do this, and we’re done. And I mean it, Chase. This is the last time.
Chase: So glad you see things my way. I’ll be in touch.
I slap my phone screen down on my desk and shove it away like it’s a pariah as the full reality hits me.
Even if I succeed in landing an interview for him, Chase will never leave me alone. Somehow, I have to end his hold over me.
After I calm down—and thank goodness no one came into my office during that nightmare—I finish uploading the rest of the posts I planned, grateful for the distraction. Thirty minutes later, we have over a hundred votes already on the ‘Name the Arena’ project.
And five o’clock never looked so good. Then I remember I’m supposed to go to Wade’s tonight and consider canceling. How can I keep this from him? He’ll take one look at me and figure out something’s wrong. Wade knows how to read me better than anyone.
But the thought of going home and wearing a brave face for Harper doesn’t feel any better. Can I hold it together in front of Wade?
The question plagues me the entire ride to his place, and especially up the walk to his apartment.
A cool breeze rustles the nearby palms as I vacillate in front of his door, questioning my decisions now more than I ever have.
Normally, this is my favorite time of year.
Still, my mind is as far from appreciating the subtle change of season as I am from Texas—a distance that didn’t make any difference in removing Chase permanently from my life.
The ramifications of my situation make my eyes burn all over again as I debate leaving. And instead of making my mouth water, the aroma wafting from the pizza I picked up on my way from work makes me queasy.
I still have a key and could let myself in, but that feels wrong. It’s not like I stayed here long enough to think of his place as my home, and besides, I don’t want to push the tenuous thread of reconciliation we’ve established.
Seeing no other choice but to power through, I lift my hand to knock, only to have the door whipped away before I can touch it. Wade fills the doorway with his broad shoulders, firm jawline, and piercing green eyes—an image that sucks the air right out of me.
When did he get so devastatingly attractive? Has he changed that much, or am I just seeing him now?
“Are you coming in or not?” He lifts a brow in tandem with his lopsided grin.
“I was about to knock.” I brush past him, catching his clean, musky scent, which has quite the opposite effect of the pizza.
Unlike the unappealing aromas of cheese and tomato, I want to bury my face against his heather gray T-shirt, bawl my eyes out, and feel secure in his muscular arms again.
Wade’s hugs have always been a place of comfort for me, although the thought of holding me makes my entire body hum.
“Why did you stand out there for so long?” He closes the door, studying me.
Looking away, because if I stare into those eyes any longer, I’ll spill everything, I slide the pizza box onto the counter and drape my bag over the back of the stool. “Hard day at work. I was debating going home.”
He smirks. “You would be home if you still lived here.”
I sigh. “You and I both know this is a much better arrangement. You need your bed, and I need…”
His brows draw together with concern, and he closes the distance between us so fast that I take a step back.
“What’s going on, Bree?”
I knew this would be difficult, but wow, am I in trouble. If I share the latest in the Chase Files drama, there’s no telling what Wade would do, considering how much he hates him, a detail I’m fully cognizant of now. But I have to tell him something.
“Nothing I can’t handle, okay?”
“Is it the job? Rebecca seems like she’d be amazing to work closely with. Is it Zach? I don’t interact with him much, but if he—”
“It’s not Zach.” Realizing at his shocked expression that I raised my voice, I take a deep breath. “I love my job. It’s great. No complaints whatsoever.”
He brushes my hair back, something he’s done many a time, but the urge to push my face into his palm nearly makes my eyes close with a desire I’ve never felt toward him before, until now.
“Do you miss Texas?” His caring tone pushes me to the edge of spilling everything.
Miss Texas? Not on your life, but maybe I can use that as a shield. “Not really, but I miss your nana, and her wanting to sell the ranch makes my heart ache.”
All true, but not the reason I’m cracking apart. Nana would have my hide for fibbing, too, but I brush that thought away because sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
He cringes. “Piper told you?”
I nod.
Watching his reaction is like looking in a mirror. He sinks onto a stool in front of the kitchen island, then drags his hands through his hair, appearing utterly bereft.
With slow, measured steps, I move closer until I’m standing next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. Just the light touch sends my pulse into a spin, but when he lifts his tortured eyes to mine, every cell in my body buzzes with a longing I’ve never felt before.
Normally, he would be the one to pull me into a comforting hug, but this time, I do it. I slip an arm around his shoulders as he pulls me closer, and hold his head against my chest with my other hand.
“I didn’t see this coming.” His warm breath seeps through my shirt, warming the spot right over my heart.
“I know.” I run my fingers through his hair above his ear, relishing the gesture of touching him in such a familiar way.
He lifts his chin to look at me. “I know you do.”
Our eyes connect, and I swear I can almost hear the snap of sparks. Only Wade truly understands the heartbreak I experienced when, first, my parents divorced and then sold our farm—the loss of my past and my future.
His irises expand as his gaze drops to my mouth, and I do the same. Has he always found me attractive? Or is this new for him, too?
As if I’m not in control of my body, I lower my face until our lips touch. He stiffens, and a reality switch flips in me.
What have I done?
But before I can pull away, he pulls me against him as he stands, moving his lips over mine with a demand for more. And I want that, too, which blows my mind because I never pictured this between us.
He intensifies the kiss, greedy and demanding. At first, I match his fervor and cling to him, but then the reality of who I’m kissing rushes over me like a bucket of cold water.
He must read my body language because he shifts to something gentle, more pleading, yearning, then draws back. His curious eyes rove over me, greener than I’ve ever seen them.
And filled with questions.
But I don’t know if I have the answers to any of them.