Cayden
NINE
What the fuck am I saying?
I don’t flirt, and I sure as hell don’t get worked up by just a single touch.
I’m lying on this fucking mat, strapped no less, having to feel her hands on my bare skin.
Having to lie here while her hair brushes my shoulders, or inhale the sweet scent of lavender on her skin every time she leans over me.
I should be numb.
To her touch.
To her smell.
To her.
But I’m not.
I feel everything.
I resisted at first, refusing to let go, but just the sound of her voice has me wanting to bare my soul to her.
She’s bringing up emotions, I’ve buried a long time ago—emotions I’m not ready to bring to the surface.
I’d be blind not to notice she’s feeling something too. Even though she’s keeping her touch professional, I could feel the subtle shift in the air when we made contact. The way her eyes linger just a little bit longer. The hitch in her breathing whenever we get too close.
And that blush staining her cheeks now is silently telling me she’s having thoughts that she shouldn’t.
That fucking blush does something to me every time I see it.
Makes me want to do and say things just to see it again.
My cock twitches in my sweats, begging me to reverse our positions.
Wanting to know what it would feel like to have her body under me, tied up and writhing in pleasure—making that blush appear over and over again.
Fisting my hands at my sides, I close my eyes again and will the thoughts away.
“Let’s just get this done,” I grind out, not trusting myself to look at her. The sooner we are done, the sooner I can get my head back on straight. I don’t need or want anything more in my life. Especially not from someone capable of making me feel.
“Okay,” she quietly says, getting to work on adjusting my position as I sink further into the bolster. Even though my mind tries to fight it, my muscles surrender to her voice as she softly brings me to a relaxed state again.
Her hands move over me, applying steady pressure. She holds them there as I feel a deep stretch in my lower back and hips.
I stay on alert at first, but her voice and touch break through my barriers, and I find myself sinking deeper into the pose.
Guiding me in my breaths, I let myself do something I’ve never been able to do before.
I just…am.
No thoughts or worries.
No guilt or fears.
Just silence.
Not the deafening silence I’m used to, but the silence you lean into.
Peace.
She guides me to a new position on my stomach called child’s pose, putting a bolster under my chest for comfort. Pressing on my lower back and hips, I groan into the deep stretch.
“That’s good, Cayden,” she encourages softly. “Breathe deep into that area. Each breath should feel like a release.”
Her hands feel like magic as she moves along my body. It’s like she’s breathing life back into me, little by little.
When she finally removes her hands, I’m already missing her touch. She has me turn over again on my back and puts me in a comfortable position with my hips open again, without the straps this time.
My eyes close on their own—my body feeling loose and relaxed.
“Stillness is more powerful than you know.” Her soothing voice washes over me as I sink further into the mat. “In silence, we get our loudest answers.”
And that’s the problem.
Because for the first time in a long time…
I don’t hate the quiet or feel like I’m drowning in it.
I feel like I can finally breathe without something sitting on my chest.
I don’t know if it’s the position…
the breathing…
or her.
My jaw tightens at the thought. I don’t want this or whatever the hell she’s pulling out of me, but as I lie here in the stillness she created…
I don’t want it to end either.
When she tells me I can open my eyes when I’m ready, everything slams back into place.
The room.
The heat.
Her body next to me.
She’s sitting close—watching me. There is no judgment in her eyes, just a quiet understanding.
She’s just…there.
Giving me a place where silence doesn’t hurt.
My body still feels relaxed, but my mind snaps back fast as sheer panic comes crashing down, wanting to grab hold of anything that keeps me grounded.
Control.
Distance.
Space.
I sit up too quickly, the shift jarring after the calm I just let myself fall into.
“We done?”
She blinks, surprised at my abruptness, but slowly nods her head. “Yes, we’re done.”
I run a hand over the back of my neck before quickly getting to my feet.
Needing to put a barrier between us, I grab my t-shirt and throw it on, avoiding her eye contact as I pull my socks over my feet and quickly tie my shoes.
She’s standing now and walks over, handing me a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I grunt, taking the drink. Our fingers touch, and I quickly pull away, not trusting myself with her touch right now. I hate the fact that I want her touch—need her touch.
Throwing my ballcap back on, I push it down like armor and grab my phone and keys off the table before walking to the door.
“I’ve got to get back to Scarlett.” I know I’m being an ass, but I can’t help it.
“Of course,” she says with understanding, making me feel like the biggest prick on this earth. It’s not her fault that she’s unleashed all of these emotions in me, causing me to spiral out of control. “Will you be back next week?”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob and struggle to ease this tightening in my chest. Every part of me wants to turn around and tell her yes.
Tell her how it’s easier for me to breathe when she’s around.
How she reaches places inside me that no one has been able to touch. How her voice alone feels like home.
But I don’t.
It’s easier to walk away than it is to admit I might need her.
“I know I can help if you just let me,” she quietly says, sending pain through my chest like a lightning bolt.
“That’s the problem,” I admit, keeping my back to her as I bow my head. “I never asked for help. I never asked for any of this.”
I walk out without another word, breathing a sigh of relief when I realize the place is empty out front.
Pushing open the door, I take a big gulp of fresh air, trying to ease the pressure in my chest. I down the water, hoping it will help the razor blades clawing at my throat before throwing it in the nearest trash bin.
Needing to keep moving, I keep my head down and walk in the opposite direction of where I parked, wanting to put distance between the brunette that just unraveled me.
The cool breeze feels good on my warmed flesh as I blend in with the small crowd out shopping or eating lunch. It feels different here than in Bayside.
I see two children stepping out of a smoothie place with ice cream in their hands, their faces already covered in chocolate, and I think of Scarlett.
The two girls giggle as they sit down at a table under an outside veranda.
There are baskets on each table, and I watch them pull out a wooden Connect Four game before they start setting it up.
It’s a wholesome feeling and something I want for Scar.
Wanting to explore more, I pass by a few more mom and pop shops before I come across Inked. Knox told me his brother-in-law, Travis, owned the tattoo shop in Crystal Isle.
Making a mental note to check out his work some other time, I head further down the street until I slowly make my way out of the downtown area. Music drifts out of a restaurant, and I realize it’s the one I saw on my way in.
The smell of delicious food wafts through the air, causing my stomach to growl, reminding me I haven’t had lunch yet. Deciding to check them out, I cross the street and walk up the wooden steps to Rusty’s.
Instead of going inside, I head around back to the outdoor deck and dining area, taking a seat at the end of the bar overlooking the ocean and beach below.
An older gentleman with kind eyes and a grey beard sets a coaster down in front of me.
“What can I get you, son?” he asks with a smile.
“Got any local craft beer that’s good?”
“We do,” he grins. “IPA work?”
“That’s perfect. And a lunch menu if you have one.”
“Coming right up,” he winks, heading to the beer display at the end of the bar.
I glance up at the TV and see one of our games playing from last weekend. It still never gets old seeing my number on an NHL jersey. I’ve worked my whole life to get to where I am. I just never expected to be doing it alone.
“Enjoy,” the bartender smiles, setting the beer in front of me with a menu. “I’ll give you a minute to look over that and be right back to take your order.”
Nodding, I take a sip and glance at the menu.
“Cayden?” I look up and see Noah standing at the bar next to me. “I thought that was you,” he grins. “Didn’t expect to see you in our little town.”
I met Noah and his wife Emma at Knox’s wedding last year.
“Noah, it’s good to see you,” I smile, as he takes a seat next to me. “I had an appointment in town and thought I would grab some lunch before I left.”
“You came to the right spot. Order the fish tacos,” he says, gesturing toward the menu. “You can’t go wrong.”
“I’ll do that.”
The bartender appears just then and grins at Noah.
“Your lunch will be right out.”
“Thanks, Rusty. I’ll have one of those, while I wait,” Noah says, pointing to my beer.
“You got it.” Rusty looks at me, and I hand him the menu.
“I guess I’m having the fish tacos Noah sold me on.”
“He’s right,” Rusty grins, walking away.
“So, he’s the owner?” I ask, nodding at Rusty as he pours Noah’s beer.
“That would be him. He’s been here for as long as I can remember. Hell, my parents too,” he chuckles. “So, how are you liking Crystal Isle?” He asks, taking a sip of his beer that Rusty set down in front of him before tending to another customer.
“I like it. It’s…quaint and…” I search for the right word. “Charming.”
“That it is,” he chuckles. “If you ever want to get out of the big city, give me a call. I have a few houses I just renovated that just might be perfect for you. This is a great place to raise a family. Jax, Holden, and Grayson could use a little girl around here to keep them in line,” he laughs, mentioning his son along with Travis and Maverick’s, all close to Scarlett’s age.
“She would be the one to do it,” I laugh, remembering her ability to get me to bend to her every will.
Rusty appears with a takeout bag and my lunch, sliding the plate in front of me. Noah was right. These look damn good as I take in the fresh display in front of me.
Standing up, Noah signs the check and finishes the rest of his beer. “Sorry, I can’t stay longer. I promised Emma I would bring her some lunch at the library. It was good to see you, Cayden,” he smiles.
“Likewise,” I grin. “Will I see you at Miles’s wedding in a few weeks?” Knox’s brother-in-law is getting married and extended the invite to a few guys on the team.
“Emma and I will be there along with Bella and Maverick. You’ll get to meet my youngest sister, too,” he adds, grabbing the takeout bag. “She wasn’t able to make it to Knox’s wedding.”
“I didn’t know you had another sister.” I try to remember if it’s ever come up, but my mind goes blank.
“She’s the easy one. Don’t tell Bella that,” he chuckles, slapping me on the back as he walks away.
I finish my lunch while I people-watch down below. Families are gathered on the beach, building sand castles or searching the shoreline for shells. The water is still cool this time of year, so very few are brave enough to wander in.
A little girl about Scarlett’s age holds her mom’s hand as she dips her toes into a small puddle that has formed in the sand. Even at this distance, I can see the joy on her face as she splashes in the little hole, her mom laughing at her excitement.
A scene like that used to bring me to my knees, but now the pain is quieter. It’s still there, but it’s softer somehow—distant.
Luna comes to mind with her bright eyes and carefree smile. I can almost feel her next to me as if she’s sat in this exact same spot and looked at this exact view. This town feels like her.
She’s in every laugh I hear around me.
Every smile that I see.
Guilt weaves its way in and sinks its teeth into me. It should be Jules I’m thinking about. Not some girl I barely know. I made a promise that I would never forget her, and it terrifies me that I will.
Rusty comes over with a small bag in his hand, and I force a fake smile.
“I’ll take that check now.”
“It’s on the house,” he smiles, handing me the bag. “For your little girl.”
I peek inside and see a slice of chocolate cake. “I never told you I had a daughter.”
“My wife was a huge Bolts fan and got me into hockey. I knew who you were the minute you sat down.”
Something he said catches my attention. “Was a big fan?”
“She passed away ten years ago,” he says softly, his eyes full of understanding. He hesitates briefly before continuing. “It gets easier, you know…with the guilt.”
I stare at him, not sure how in the hell he could have known what I was feeling two minutes ago.
“It was written all over your face while you were looking out at the water,” he explains.
“I recognized it immediately because I dealt with it for years. Every laugh you do, every smile, every thought that’s not about her feels like a betrayal.
It will eat you up if you let it.” He sighs and looks at the waves gently lapping the shore, deep in thought, before turning back to me.
“It took me a long time and a lot of wasted years in torment to realize that finding happiness again isn’t leaving them behind.
It’s carrying what they gave you forward.
” He pats my shoulder and walks away, leaving me to ponder that alone.
My gaze drifts back to the vast ocean. His words echo in my head.
I’ve spent years holding on to something that wants to destroy me.
Maybe it’s time I figure out a way to stop letting it.