Chapter Twenty-Four
Tessa
All of this for him to stand there stoically and not say a word. It makes me want to scream.
We’re standing in his new apartment, and all I can think about is how he’s a stranger to me in this version of his life.
The walls are bare, aside from the boxes stacked against them. Hockey gear is sitting on the floor near the doorway. Binders and mail litter the counter. Don’t even get me started on the couch that looks like it’s staged in some showroom of a furniture store.
This place doesn’t look lived in. It barely looks like it’s being survived in.
Exactly like Clay.
I should feel nothing. I should look at this empty place and remember why I was angry with him. Why I promised myself I wouldn’t let him pull me back in. But my chest still aches anyway.
Because I remember how it felt to be with him.
What it felt like to lie in his arms during the storm, the weight of his body pressed against me, and the way he looked at me like I was the only person he could see.
For a second, being here feels like falling back into those moments. Just him. Just us.
I hate that I still want him, even now. That being in his space makes my pulse race and my body betray me. I hate that the hurt and the want twist together until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
Clay starts pacing, his jaw tight and his shoulders drawn in like he’s barely holding himself together. The silence is thick enough to choke on, and I realize if he’s not going to be the first to speak, then I will.
“You don’t get to do this,” I snap. “You don’t get to drag me here in the middle of the damn night, stand there like the goddamn world’s crushing you, and say nothing.”
His head lifts, his eyes dark, and his expression unreadable.
“You broke me once at the cabin. And then you broke me again when you fucked me that night, when you promised it wouldn’t end this way, and then you disappeared the following morning without a word.
You left a plane ticket on my dresser and told my mom to tell me you took off because of work.
And now—” My throat catches, my pulse pounding so hard it hurts.
“Now you have the nerve to act like this is all hard for you?”
His head jerks up like I’ve landed a punch. His hands rake hard through his hair, then lock behind his neck, elbows jutting like he was trying to physically hold himself together.
“You think I wanted to hurt you?” His voice is raw. “Jesus, Tessa. You think I haven’t replayed every word I said to you that night? The peaceful look on your face when I climbed out of that bed, knowing when you woke up, I’d be gone? I hate myself for it.”
“Then why?” The words tear out of me. I take a step forward, then stop, pacing because standing still feels impossible. “Why push me away if it kills you to do it? Why leave without a word—like I never meant a damn thing?”
He drags both hands down his face, the scrape of his palms over stubble loud in the quiet apartment.
“Because I was scared, okay? Because everything I touch falls apart.” His eyes burn when they meet mine, bloodshot with exhaustion and something darker.
“I already blew my shot once. I lost everything I’d worked for.
Now I’ve got this chance at Kolmont, and one wrong move could ruin it.
My reputation’s hanging by a thread as it is.
And if they find out I’m tangled up with my brother’s ex—”
“Don’t you dare.” The words tear out of me before I can stop them. I jab a finger toward his chest, heat buzzing up my arms. “Don’t you dare reduce me to that. I’m not a scandal. I’m not a headline you have to hide from. I’m a person. A woman who trusted you.”
His jaw clenches, and his throat bobs as he forces a heavy swallow.
“That’s not what I meant.” His voice is hoarse, like it cost him to admit it.
“I meant I didn’t want to drag you into this, to tear you down when they’re looking for any reason to destroy me.
” He breaks off, chest rising and falling with every breath.
“I can’t shake it. Everyone’s waiting for me to snap, Tessa.
If they find out you’re my one weakness, there’s no controlling the way I’d react to them hurting you the way they have me.
What happens then, huh? One flash of my temper and I’m exactly who they say I am. ”
I laugh. It’s bitter and maniacal because if I don’t laugh, I’ll probably scream.
“So your solution is to cut me out first? To shatter me so the rest of the world can’t?
” I shake my head, my voice trembling. “That’s not protection, Clay.
That’s cowardice. You’re so terrified of failing, you’d rather torch what we had than admit you want this.
You’d rather save your career than admit you want me. ”
His head drops for a beat, like my words knocked the wind out of him. When he looks back up, his eyes are wild, like a storm waiting to break.
“You think I don’t want you?” He rasps low, stepping toward me.
We’re close enough now that I can feel the heat rolling off his body.
“You’ve been the only damn thing I’ve wanted since before I kissed you in the hallway three years ago.
That’s the problem, Tessa. You make me want things I can’t have. ”
My breath hitches, anger colliding with something hotter. “That’s bullshit,” I grit out, my voice cracking with emotion. “You had me, Clay. You already had me, and you threw it away. Not because you couldn’t, but because you were too damn scared of what it meant to keep me.”
The silence that follows is brutal. My chest rises and falls too fast, my skin buzzing like a live wire. Clay looks wrecked. His hands flex into fists, his jaw tight, and his eyes wild, and still, he doesn’t back down.
And neither do I.
The way he says nothing cuts deeper than if he yelled. I hate it. I hate how he doesn’t even try to argue, because that means he knows I’m right.
“You always do this,” I say, pacing because if I stand still, I’ll fall apart. “You decide what’s best for me, and then you act like I should thank you for it. Like I should be grateful you destroyed me for my own good.”
His head snaps to me, his eyes narrowing. “Destroyed you?”
“Yes.” My voice shakes, but I don’t care. “Because I let you in. Because I believed you when you said it wasn’t only for one week and that you’d find a way for us to be together. Then you left me.”
He swears under his breath, dragging both hands through his hair and leaving it ragged in his wake. “Goddammit, Tessa, I was trying to do the right thing—”
“The right thing for who?” I shoot back, cutting him off. “For Kolmont? For your reputation? For your damn pride? Because it sure as hell wasn’t for me.”
He freezes, chest rising and falling like I’ve just landed a body shot.
But then his jaw hardens. “You think this is easy for me? You think it doesn’t kill me to see you and keep my hands to myself? Every second I’m with you, I’m one breath away from blowing up everything I’ve worked for. And if that happens, I drag you down with me.”
“News flash, Clay, you’re dragging me down anyway.
Do you know what it feels like to keep covering for you?
To smile through whispers while everyone says you’ll never change?
You think it’s your career at risk?” My throat tightens, but I force the words out.
“It’s my heart on the line. And you’ve smashed it twice already. ”
He closes the space between us in two strides, his presence overwhelming.
His voice drops, rough as gravel. “You think it doesn’t kill me to know I’ve hurt you?
You think I haven’t hated myself every damn day?
” His hand flexes at his side like he’s fighting the urge to grab me, to hold me, or shake me, or hell, maybe both.
“You’re in my head, Tessa. You’re in my blood.
And no matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out. ”
The confession should’ve softened me. Instead, it burns hotter.
“Then stop pretending you can,” I snap, tilting my chin up and daring him. “Stop hiding behind excuses and fear. Because if you’re going to keep choosing to run, then don’t you dare stand here and act like it’s for my sake. Admit it’s for yours. Admit you’re a coward.”
The word lands like a puck to the chest. He flinches—actually flinches—and for a heartbeat, neither of us breathes.
Then his mouth crashes against mine in a savage kiss. Every ounce of anger and frustration ignites into a hunger all at once.
His hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him, and all the fury that is burning between us twists into something impossible to contain.
I should push him away. I should remember why I was angry, why this can’t happen again. But the second his mouth crashes against mine—hungry, like he’s been holding his breath too long—I’m a goner.
The world falls away. All the anger I’ve been clinging to, all the walls I’ve built, shatter under the weight of that kiss. Nothing else matters.
He kisses me like he is trying to rewrite every mistake he’s made, every word he hasn’t said. His fingers dig into my hips, then soften, sliding up my back as if he can’t decide whether to pull me closer or let me go before he breaks something neither of us can fix.
By the time he tears his mouth from mine, both of us are shaking. My lips tingle, my chest heaves, and I can feel his pulse hammering through every inch of him pressed against me.
“Shit,” he breathes, voice wrecked. He steps away, dragging a trembling hand through his hair. “I didn’t bring you here for that.” His eyes meet mine, wide and raw. “I swear to God, Tess, I just wanted to talk.”
My breath hitches, still uneven. “You don’t kiss someone like that if all you wanted was to talk.”
He winces. “I know.” He takes another step back, forcing space between us. “I lost control. Again. I’m sorry.” The words crack. “You don’t deserve this. None of it. You deserve someone who doesn’t keep screwing up every time he gets close to you.”
Something in his expression shifts. A mix of guilt and longing wars in his eyes. “I hate that I have to say this, but I need you to hear me out before you walk out that door.”
I swallow hard, wrapping my arms around myself to keep from reaching for him.
“I don’t want to keep this quiet because I’m ashamed,” he says, his voice breaking.
“It’s not that. It’s—hell, I need time. I told you how Coach Rudnick is retiring at the end of the season, and I’m still fighting to prove I deserve to stay.
If this gets out before I’m officially locked in…
” He shakes his head. “I could lose everything I’ve been working for. ”
I stare at him, throat tight.
He steps closer, careful this time, every movement deliberate. “But I don’t want to lose you either. Not again. And I hate that I’m asking you to wait. To hide.” His voice drops low. “You deserve better than that, Tess. Better than me.”
The words scrape through the room.
I should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him no, told him I wouldn’t be his secret. But I can’t move.
Because for the first time, I can see the fracture in him. The fear. The wanting. The part of Clay Barlowe that doesn’t belong to the coach or the game, but to me.
And that realization is its own kind of ruin.