Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
As soon as I stepped out of Ryan’s car, doubt crept in. And now, sitting across from Jace with his usual smug expression firmly in place, I know I’ve made a mistake in agreeing to meet him.
When he sees me observing him, he composes his features into a soft smile. “You look beautiful, Hannah.”
“Um, thanks.” I shift uncomfortably in my chair, focusing on my cup of tea instead of meeting his eyes.
“I hear Logan is still waiting for his contract to be extended,” Jace says, his voice betraying fake sympathy. “Maybe I can put in a good word with my dad, you know he has influence. That’s how I ended up here.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and my throat tightens. When I meet Jace’s gaze across the table, that tiny smirk is still there, though he quickly schools it again. “You asked to be traded to the Saints?”
“Of course,” he says. “You’re here, babe. And you haven’t been answering my calls. I’ve seen what you’ve done, launching your rescue here. I knew you weren’t going to leave it all to come back to Dallas.”
He should have known it doesn’t matter where I am, I won’t be going back to him.
“I miss you.” He leans forward and rests his hands, palms up, inviting me to place mine in his. “I can’t stand seeing you with him. I want us to go back to how we were. I messed up; I never should’ve asked for this break. I’ve been miserable without you.”
The man I spent years loving and supporting, is someone I don’t recognize. After treating me like a toy he tossed aside, he only wants me back now that someone else has me.
Part of me wants to tell him to go screw himself, but the other part is still wary of his potential wrath. I won’t make things worse for Ryan. So I aim for diplomacy. “I’ve moved on, Jace, and I think you should too. I’m sorry you thought moving here would give us another chance, but I’m with Ryan. I’m happy.”
Anger flashes across his face before it transforms, his feature smoothing into cool indifference as he leans back into his chair. “I’d hate for you to be separated.”
Ryan was right. His intentions are far from noble. He doesn’t want to smooth things over. He wants to ruin us.
My jaw drops. Is he really going to try to get Ryan dropped from the team? I suspected, but hearing the veiled threat makes every muscle in my body tense. “Are you blackmailing me? Us?”
“Us?” He laughs bitterly. “Really, Hannah? It’s been two fucking minutes. There is no ‘us’ when it comes to you and him.” His voice drips with condescension.
An evil gleam flickers in his eyes. How was I so blind to this side of him? Was it always there? I try to keep my expression neutral, but I suspect I don’t have a future as an actress.
Just as everything comes together in my life, it feels like it’s falling apart. I hate that Ryan’s connection to me is what’s gotten him into this chaos. I was so worried about Ryan distracting me from my career goals, but in reality, it’s me messing up all his plans.
Before I came back into the picture, his career was on the rise, a newly crowned All-Star. And now look at where he is—not even sure if he has a spot on the team he loves, where he’s spent his entire hockey career. All because of me. Because of the baggage I dragged with me, and into his life.
My throat tightens, and I struggle to keep my emotions in check, desperate to hold it together until I can get back to Ryan’s car. But despite my best efforts, I feel the wetness spill over my lashes, a tear tracking down my cheek.
I quickly wipe it away, but not before Jace notices. He rounds the table, crouching beside me, and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t cry, babe. I know you’re confused. I don’t know what he’s told you, but I love you. You’re going to see.”
He pulls something out of his pocket and attempts to place the engagement ring I haven’t seen since All-Star Weekend back on my finger. I pull back before the metal reaches my skin, causing him to lose his grip on it. The clink of the ring reaching the floor is drowned out by a loud crash of the café door slamming against the wall. Heavy footsteps follow, and Ryan storms toward us.
Before Jace even realizes what’s happening, Ryan grabs the back of his sweatshirt, yanking him to his feet and pushing him away. He doesn’t say a word to Jace, instead, focusing his attention on me. Leaning over the table, he boxes me in, his anger replaced by concern that tightens his face.
“Hannah, are you okay? What’s going on?” he asks in a rush.
The words lodge in my throat as I stare into his deep brown eyes.
The eyes I looked into six years ago for the first time.
The eyes that never judged me and always supported me.
The eyes that have watched as I’ve laughed, and cried, and everything in between.
The thought of Jace taking them away from me makes the moisture tip over and pour down my cheeks again.
Ryan’s worry reaches a breaking point, and he cups my face gently. “Hannah, will you come with me?” His voice is firm, but soft at the same time.
I still can’t find my voice, so I nod.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Jace snaps, but we both ignore him.
I place my hand in Ryan’s, and he leads me out of the café, as Jace’s shouts of protest register. “This isn’t over!” He sounds like a madman.
Ryan’s car idles at the curb, double-parked and blocking traffic as he swings the passenger door open for me, guiding me into it. The blare of horns echoes as he pulls into the street, taking my hand in his. “Baby, I need to move the car, and then we’ll talk. Okay?”
I nod and glance over at him. His knee bounces as he grips the wheel, and every so often, he sneaks a quick look my way. But the drive passes in silence. After a few turns, he pulls into a spot at North Pond Park, cutting the engine with a deep exhale.
“Why didn’t you just drive home? It was the same distance away.” Why the first words out of my mouth are about his driving choices, I have no idea.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. This is just where I ended up. Do you want me to take us home?”
“No, sorry. We can talk here.”
He unbuckles himself, shifting his tall frame to face me as much as the car allows. Then he reaches over, undoes my seat belt, and carefully turns me in his direction. “I’m not sure what’s going on. I just saw you crying through the window?—”
“Why were you outside the window?” I cut him off.
“I wasn’t peering through the window like a creeper.” He clears his throat. “I was just keeping an eye on you from the car. I was worried.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he mutters.
“Why’re you apologizing? You were right. I’m the one who should say sorry. I probably just made everything worse.” I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes.
“You didn’t. What did he say? What upset you?” He rubs his hand up my thigh in a comforting gesture.
My breath rushes out. “I think he’s trying to get me to go back to him by threatening to sic his dad on you. He must think he can mess with your contract extension. Do you think that’s true?”
“Fuck.”
“So, you think he could?” My voice rises higher.
He moves his seat all the way back and reaches across the console, grabbing my waist and pulling me onto his lap. I go, needing the closeness as much as he does. Once I’m straddling his thighs, his hands moving up my body until they frame my face. “I don’t know, honestly. Baby, we’ll—” He’s cut off by ringing through the car’s speakers. We both glance at the console, where the caller ID reads, “Mike Greenburg.”
I try to slide back into my seat, but Ryan stops me, holding me close. He tucks my head into the curve of his neck, and I breathe in his scent, pine and citrus. His lips skim the crown of my head before he sighs and clicks accept on the incoming call.
“Hi, Logan speaking.”
I can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes at the sound of Ryan’s “phone voice.” It’s much too formal and polite, like he’s having tea with his grandmother.
“Hi, Ryan, it’s Mike. Do you have a minute to talk?” His agent’s voice fills the car.
“Sure, what’s up?” Ryan looks down at me, watching for my reaction, while he anxiously taps his fingers on the armrest.
“Logan, I have some good news.”
“Oh, yeah?” The tempo of his tapping picks up.
“I have an offer for you… I’m just not sure it’s the one you want.”
“Let’s hear it.” His movements stop, and I can tell he’s trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
“The Saints haven’t shut me down yet, so there’s still hope. They just keep telling me they’re working on it. So, no Saints offer yet, but I have an unofficial one for you from New Jersey. They’re offering a nice bump in salary too, $4.5 million annually for a five-year contract. Of course, this is all talk for now; you know they can’t officially offer until you’re a free agent,” he explains.
New Jersey?
My first thought is what that’d mean for us, but I quickly shake it from my mind. I can’t think of that now. Ryan and I will work it out, no matter where he plays. The important thing is him continuing the career he’s worked so hard for. And it sounds like his agent thinks the offer from New Jersey is a good one. One he should consider.
“Keep me posted if you hear anything from the Saints,” Ryan says, failing to hide his frustration.
“Ryan, I really think you should consider this offer. If the Saints offer, it’s not going to be anywhere near as good as this one.”
“I know. Talk soon, Mike.”
Silence fills the car as he ends the call. “What are we going to do?”
Ryan slumps back into the seat. “Hopefully Knolls is exaggerating; it wouldn’t be the first time. We just have to hope the Saints want to keep me.”
I hate the defeat in his voice, and I want to reassure him. “If you have to go to New J?—”
“Let’s not think about that now,” he cuts me off.
I hate that he doesn’t trust that I’m just as in this as him. I know that’s what he’s doing. He’s so scared of what I’m going to say that he’d rather I say nothing at all. I wish he’d let me comfort him, the same way he always does for me. But I know now isn’t the time to push him.
He must read the worry on my face, soothing me with his hand moving up and down my back. “This isn’t your fault, Sunshine. Knolls is the one to blame. We’re going to figure this out together, okay?”
I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing close, letting the warmth and weight of his embrace settle me.
He leaves tomorrow for a week-long series of away games. It’ll be the longest he’s been gone since I moved to Chicago, and the timing couldn’t be worse, with so much hanging in the balance.
But I nod, because we will. Even if he’s not ready to hear it, I’m going to be by his side, no matter which team he plays for. Whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together.