Chapter 28 #2
B’s dark-blond hair is a shaggy mess across his forehead, and his eyes are red and unfocused as he stares ahead.
“I thought I’d made the right choice at first, you know?
Despite how shitty I felt afterward, I focused on hockey, and it paid off.
I was a Canuck at the top of my game. I was making a ton of my own money.
For once, I didn’t have to rely on my rich father.
I had some really good teammates who kept me motivated and distracted.
” He flushes. “I even had a couple one-night stands thinking that was expected of me as a sports star, though only women, of course. God forbid I came out as a queer pro hockey player.”
My stomach twists with jealousy, but I swallow it down.
B’s expression sours. “Not that there aren’t players who are out, but I was so scared they’d drop me and then I’d have to go crawling back to my dad.”
“You did well, B. I…I watched every game. And I was so fucking proud of you.” I reach for his hand and our fingers interlock.
“My obsession with you was never fair to Anna, but fuck, she was so understanding. I said I just liked watching hockey, but it was obvious why I watched it. She knew who you were and what you had done. She knew I was nursing old wounds.” Moisture gathers in my eyes, and I wipe them quickly.
“The night of the accident was when I knew for sure I’d never get over you. ”
“You…” He seems to struggle with the sentence, his voice shaking. “You watched my games?”
I nod. “Every one. And then, after you went to the hospital, I had to see you. I was so scared. I had to see for myself that you were okay.”
He sits up and turns to look at me. Our lips are inches apart. “You were there?” His breath brushes over my face.
A tear trickles down my cheek. “Of course I was there. Despite everything, I couldn’t stay away.
After your accident, I wasn’t myself. I was distracted.
I couldn’t work. I hardly ate. Anna could tell.
She was kind and patient, but I think she was also hurt because after all this time, my worry for you upended my entire life in an instant.
” Hot tears spill down my cheeks. “One day, after we had a huge argument, I took a drive to cool off and found myself outside the hospital in Vancouver. It was late—the tail end of visiting hours. You were asleep, but I held your hand and spoke to you.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, and when he reopens them, he’s just as wrecked as I am. “I thought I was dreaming; you said…”
“I said that I loved you,” I whisper, and when he nods, our lips brush and an electric shock shoots through my body.
I push toward him and kiss him properly, cupping his face, my tongue sliding between his lips.
I climb onto my knees and straddle his lap.
Our breaths mingle. The kiss is raw and sloppy, but so overtly passionate that I feel like I’m flying.
He tastes like the Pepsi he drank in the truck and salty tears, and his earthy scent mixes with the leather from his jacket.
I can feel him hard against my abdomen, but neither of us acts on it. When we finally pull apart, I graze my fingers along his jawline.
“Thank you,” he says huskily, and the gold flecks in his warm hazel eyes light my soul on fire.
“For what?”
“For never giving up on me even after I pushed you away.” He squeezes my hips as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
“I was so depressed after the accident. My dad was just gone. My teammates were around at first, but they had a rigorous hockey schedule to get back to. I was so alone.” He gives me an apologetic look.
“I felt so guilty with every hangover. I know what you went through with your mom. I wasn’t any better, and I thought about how ashamed you’d feel if you saw me like that. If it hadn’t been for Bastian…”
I cock my head curiously. “What do you mean?
He licks his swollen lips. “I got kicked out of a couple bars in the beginning. I’m not proud of it.
I was a drunk, belligerent asshole. But when I started going to Brothers’ Beer and Bourbon, Bastian was always there to pick me up.
He never kicked me out.” His thumb absently traces circles on my waist. “Don’t get me wrong, he certainly didn’t enable me. ”
“Damn right, I didn’t.”
I swing my head toward the bathroom door. Seb is naked except for a low-slung towel, and I have to stop myself from ogling every curve of his ab muscles.
“I gave him shit almost every night. Gabriella was the enabler.”
“She just has a soft heart,” B says with a rueful smile. “But you took care of me too, even if it meant punching me in the face.”
“Like I said before: tough love. Or something like that.”
I huff a laugh. “Guys are so weird.”
Seb shrugs and walks over to his bag, riffling through it for some clean boxers.
“He deserved everything I gave him—though I’ll admit I may have gone too far the night I punched him.
” He gives Brantley a serious look. “But you did start a fight with some hockey douches and fucked up my bar, so we’ll call it even. ”
B and I watch with appreciation as Seb drops the towel and slides his underwear up his muscular thighs.
“Well, fuck, my balls are blue,” B mutters.
I giggle. “Sorry, baby.” I pat his cheek. “But it’s not really the time for a fuckfest.”
“Shame,” Seb says, adjusting his semi-hard cock obscenely. “I was thinking I might want to try giving another blowjob.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe next time.”
B’s eyes darken. “You’re a tease.”
Seb looks up at him innocently.
“No, he’s right,” I growl. “Now I have lady blue balls.”
There’s a knock on the door, and I practically fall off the bed when Brantley pulls his legs out from under me. I glare at him.
“What?” he whisper-yells. “If that’s Lincoln, I don’t want to make him even more mad. He’s scary as shit.”
Seb snickers and walks over to the door.
“Seb!” Charlie throws her arms around her stepbrother.
“Hey, little sis,” he says with a chuckle, kissing the top of her head and hugging her back.
She looks up at him with a wide smile, her wavy brown hair trailing down her back. Then, her eyes meet mine over his shoulder, and she pushes Seb aside and launches herself at me with an excited squeal.
“Well, I see who the favorite is,” Seb grumbles.
I return her enthusiastic embrace. “Goddamn, you smell good,” I say, sniffing her like a creep.
“I missed you, Fi.”
“I missed you too. So much.”
We pull apart, and Charlie looks around me at Brantley, who’s still lounging on the bed, and sticks out her tongue at him.
“It’s nice to see you, Bennett,” he says with a wide smile. “Is that the worst I get? Pretty sure Lincoln is plotting my murder.”
“Well, if Fi has forgiven you, then I have.” She looks at me with her eyebrows raised in question, and I nod.
“Can you tell your stubborn boyfriends to forgive me too?” B asks hopefully.
She winks at him. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then, her eyes meet mine. “Trey said you’re staying with us for a while.”
“Yeah, just until this shit with Dennis blows over.”
Charlie frowns. “You should’ve told me. I mean, I understand why you didn’t, but all the same.”
“I had to keep you safe, babe,” I say with a gentle smile, which she returns.
“I want to know everything that’s been going on,” Charlie says.
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks between the three of us.
“But we sort of have this get-together tonight at our place. I want you guys to come. You were actually supposed to be invited in the first place—it’s kind of a sendoff before I go to Italy with the guys—but then I couldn’t get a hold of you.
” She scrunches her nose in frustration.
“And Lincoln and Marcus refused to tell me where exactly you guys were.”
Excitement for Charlie floods my stomach. “You’re going to Italy? You’ve always wanted to go! Are you visiting Volterra?” I ask with a sly wink.
Charlie laughs. “Of course! I’ll be looking for vampires.” She gives me an impish grin. “And I made Link and Trey also promise to go to Verona so I can picture Leonardo DiCaprio lurking broodily around every corner.”
I snicker. “Those guys will do anything for you.”
“Well, it’s not without a price.” Charlie rolls her eyes. “I was told there’s a bunch of places from the Assassin’s Creed video games that they want to visit, so we’re all nerding out.”
“Well, it sounds amazing.” I glance down at my clothes. “Do we need to change or anything before we go? I don’t have any cocktail dresses with me.”
Charlie gives me a tolerant look. “This is my party. Do you think I’d require a dress code?”
“Absolutely not,” I say with a laugh. Charlie looks between me and the guys. “But Link thinks we should take the Volvo to our place because it has tinted windows, and it may or may not be bulletproof.”
“Jesus, it’s like you’re Bella Swan in this scenario,” I snark. “But I really don’t need an escort to—”
“I agree,” Seb cuts in, and B nods firmly in agreement.
I sigh and don’t bother to argue. I’ve gone from two overprotective guys to four, so it’s a losing battle.