Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
PENNY
I school my features, plastering on the scowl—the widely used mask I’ve worn my whole life, and hurry toward my door. Once inside my house, I close and lock my door and fall against it. The hard wood hits my back as the tears start to fall.
Pressing a palm to my chest, I try to ease the pain of my breaking heart as tears roll down my cheeks. This is so stupid. We weren’t serious. It’s not like he was my soulmate or something, not that I believe in those. Gunner is and always has been a hotheaded hockey player. Nothing more. A three-day romp in Vancouver, a hot date in a closet at an animal shelter, and a month of dating does not a forever make. This was bound to end. I knew it. He knew it. Everyone knew it. Neither of us is relationship material. We tried, giving it a valiant go. This was always going to be the final result.
I just didn’t expect it to hurt this much.
A heavy fist hits my door, causing me to yelp. The wood vibrates against my back, and I step away from the door. Ugh. “Go away, Gunner. I’m done talking about it!”
The pounding continues. Bang. Bang. Bang . A relentless rhythm that I know won’t stop.
I swipe my hand across my cheeks in an attempt to dry the tears.
“Go away!” I shout.
More pounding.
With my hands on my hips, I pull a deep breath into my lungs and then slowly release it. “He can’t make anything easy,” I grumble to myself while turning the deadbolt of the door before opening it.
Before I can get a word out, he’s inside my foyer. “Gunner, don’t make this harder than it has to be. There’s nothing to talk about. We’re just not compatible. This doesn’t have to be messy.” I sigh.
“Bullshit.” He storms into the living room, leaving me standing alone in the foyer.
I close the door and follow him.
“This isn’t over,” he insists.
“Gunner…”
He shakes his head and rolls his shoulders back. Fierce emotion radiates from his body, but I can’t quite place it…maybe, anger or regret. Longing? Everything about him is throwing me off. He’s out of control but not in a threatening way. It’s different from his usual bouts with anger. He seems almost emotionally unhinged.
“You know what? Fuck you, Penelope Stellars, for making me love you and then leaving me without so much as a discussion.”
The love bomb throws me off and softens my resolve, but I know what I want in this life, and it’s not someone who punches a man in the grocery store. “I’m sorry, Gunner. I am, but I can’t be with someone?—”
He cuts me off. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. But I can’t stand by and watch a man put his hands on you. Don’t you get that?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Gunner. I don’t need protection, and I certainly don’t want that.” I wave toward the door, indicating the scene we left in the store.
“He. Touched. You.” Each word is a staccato.
“I know, and I’m fine.” I hold my palms up and shrug.
“He touched you.” This time, his words are softer and half broken. “He touched you.” His words are barely a whisper, and they’re coated in a deep pain.
He takes a seat on the sofa and leans his elbows against his knees as he cradles his face in his palms. He drags his hands through his hair, and tears begin to fall. I’ve never seen Gunner cry, and everything in me wants to go to him, but I wait.
Looking at the floor, he clears his throat. “My mom, she…uh, had a way of picking men. I mean, she always picked the worst one available. I don’t know, it was like a… sick talent. There could be a line of ten men, nine of them perfectly kind, and she’d pick the asshole. A constant stream of men came in and out of our lives when I was young and not one of them was decent. They all… uh, hit her. A lot. And believe it or not, I was this incredibly scrawny kid. I looked years younger than I was without an ounce of muscle on me. She protected me from her boyfriends by offering herself up as their punching bag. I was told to be invisible, and I was.”
“Gunner,” I say his name on an exhale, and he keeps his eyes on the floor but holds up a hand, gesturing for me to stay where I am.
He continues. “I wanted to protect her, you know? More than anything, I wanted to save her.” He swallows. “But I… I was just so small. Always so small.” His tears fall freely now against the wood floor. “I was constantly angry as a kid, and I tried to fight back and protect her. My mom didn’t have much, but what she had, she used to put me into hockey. She thought it’d help with my anger and channel my behavior into something good. I loved it. It got me away from my house, and pouring my energy into something positive felt good. I was what they call a late bloomer. The summer I went away to college, I began growing like crazy. I started on my college hockey team as a forward because I was quick, but I got big and became more suited for goalie. I thought this was my chance. I spent extra time in the weight room bulking up. I had plans to go home after freshman year and remove the piece of trash dating my mother. I could finally do it. I could protect her.”
His back heaves with a sob, and he runs his palms over his jean-clad thighs. I’ve never seen Gunner so vulnerable. It’s breaking my heart.
“Only.” His voice cracks. “She didn’t make it to the end of my freshman year. The autopsy ruled it an accidental fall down a flight of stairs that broke her neck, but it wasn’t accidental. It never was. Don’t you see?” He lifts his face and holds me in his pained stare. “I had a chance to save her, and I was too late. It’s my fault she’s gone.” His voice cracks along with my heart.
I rush to the sofa and sit beside him. “Look at me.” I turn my body toward him and hold his face in my hands. “It is not your fault. Your mom’s death is a tragedy, and it’s heartbreaking, but it’s not your fault.”
He holds a curly lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it between his fingers. His eyes meet mine. “When I see a man put his hands on a woman, it fills me with blind rage, and I have to shut it down—usually by pounding his face in. But when I see a man put his hands on you, I see red. I wanted to kill that guy for shoving you. Believe me when I say that a single punch to the face was me showing restraint. I can’t let him or anyone hurt you. I can’t.” His voice shakes on the last two words. “I know you’re strong and can take care of yourself, but I need to protect you. I don’t know how it happened, but against all odds, I’ve fallen in love with you, Pen. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Oh, Gunner.” My thumb slides across the short stubble on his face. “I love you, too. This is all crazy… me and you. I’m not certain we’re even compatible.” I let out a dry chuckle. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, I really do, but you have to understand that I grew up with someone who was always out of control. I can’t live like that. I need a man who is steady and calm. I can’t worry about you punching someone every time we’re out in public. You make me feel cherished, and I know you’d always protect me. But I don’t need you to protect me from others. I need you to protect me from chaos. I have to live in a space that is calm and serene. If I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop and for you to go off on someone, I won’t ever be truly happy. Growing up with an alcoholic does a number on you. I spent my life feeling anxious, waiting for her to explode or embarrass me or randomly throw a chair through the window of our local ice cream parlor… and yes, that happened.” I give him a sad smile.
“I’ll do better. I’ll do anything. I’ll go to therapy and anger management sessions… whatever I can do to prove to you that it won’t happen again. I want to be the person you can trust. I can protect you from chaos.”
“Gunner.”
“I can. I promise you that I can. We’re good together, Penny.”
“I know.” A grin tugs at my lips.
“You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”
I nod. “Same.”
“So I love you, and you love me, and we’re both happy. So? Let’s try.”
I thread my fingers through his short hair and lock them together behind his head. “We’re a mess.”
“Good. Let’s be a mess together.” He pauses before adding, “In a calm and serene environment, of course.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” He smiles.
“Yeah. As a side note, this is the most you’ve ever spoken in one sitting.”
“Well, when my girl threatens to leave me, I get chatty.”
My brows furrow. “I think I did leave you, though.”
He shakes his head. “No, it was just a threat in a heated moment. You didn’t mean it.”
I chuckle. “Do we really have a chance of making it? We’re quite damaged, you and I.”
“That’s why I know we’ll make it. Our broken pieces together make us whole. We were inevitable. Even when I thought I hated you, I wanted you. I had one fucking wish, and it was you. I wished for you.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, our surprise birthday party after you’d scolded me for something I didn’t do. Iris had us blow out the candles and make a wish. My traitorous subconscious wished for you before I could halt the thought. It threw me off, and I didn’t understand it at the time. And maybe we don’t believe in soulmates and destiny and all that, but the far recesses of my mind knew I needed you before I did. A part of me has always needed you, wanted you, loved you… I just had to see it. I think apart, we may be broken, but together, we’re strong. Together, we’re healed.”
“Who knew you were such a sweet talker?” I press my lips to his.
“Not me. I’ve learned a lot about myself recently.”
“You and me both.” I kiss him again. “Are you hungry? I guess we’re ordering in after all.”
“Oh, I’m very hungry.” He stands from the sofa. “But the ordering will have to wait.” He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
I giggle as he carries me to my bedroom. I’ve heard that makeup sex is the best. I’ve never loved someone enough to make up in the first place. As is with most experiences with Gunner, this is a first. And I’m sure I’ll love every second of it.