Chapter 35
Billie
A group of us stay late at the diner to watch the Phantoms on the TV over the bar.
A cheer goes up when they win and I’m grinning from ear to ear.
Bodi played well and Rome had two assists.
I’m disappointed I couldn’t be there but it was too complicated.
Even putting the Bodi issue aside, I’m in the home stretch at school right now, and I don’t have time to travel back and forth to Vegas.
The drive home from the diner is relatively quick and I make my way up to Bodi’s room. The one nice thing about them being gone is that I have the place to myself. Not that they bother me, but when it’s all three of us, it’s a little crowded since I don’t get much privacy.
I take a shower and wrap myself in my bathrobe before I stretch out on the bed.
Working at the diner is great but my body is tired.
I need a massage. And a pedicure. I haven’t had a haircut in nearly six months and forget about exercise.
But the school year is almost over, so that will free up some time.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I reach for it lazily, expecting to hear from Rome. What I’m not expecting is a one-sentence text that makes my blood run cold.
ROME: The shit hit the fan after the game.
That’s it.
No other texts, no context, just one damn sentence.
BILLIE: Seriously? That’s all you’re going to tell me? Call me!
He doesn’t respond, and it appears as though my text hasn’t been read.
A minute later my phone rings and it’s Bodi.
Uh oh.
I answer quickly, bracing myself. “Hello?”
“What did you do?” he demands.
“Excuse me?” My plan had always been to handle this gently, coax him into understanding, just like I had when I convinced him I needed forty-two-dollar mascara. Based on his tone of voice, this is going to be harder.
“What’s wrong with you, Billie? I’ve warned you about guys like him—are you seriously screwing a guy old enough to be our dad?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not screwing him,” I say through clenched teeth. “We’re dating. It’s not the same thing. And don’t be an ass—he’s thirteen years older than me. How many thirteen-year-olds do you know who are parents?”
“That’s not the point! He’s been divorced twice. No one in the league likes him. He’s a fucking menace on the ice and?—”
“Yeah? The kind of menace who gets two assists… how many did you get?” That was a low blow, and I know it hurt him because he goes quiet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, but you can’t keep doing this, Bodi.”
“Doing what? Looking out for you?”
“There’s a difference between looking out for me and being overbearing and controlling.”
“I know what guys like him are capable of. The divorce rate. The number of guys on the team who cheat . This isn’t an easy life for a woman, especially not one as innocent as you.”
I laugh even though none of this is funny. “What on earth makes you think I’m innocent?”
“Sleeping with one hockey player in college doesn’t count.”
There were actually two, but it doesn’t seem prudent to point that out.
“He’s a good guy, Bodi. He makes me feel?—”
“He’s using you!” he snaps. “Don’t you see? He’s made it clear that he hates L.A., so it’s not like he’s going to stay here. Right now you’re convenient. God damn, how much more convenient than living in the same house? An easy lay until?—”
“Don’t do that,” I growl angrily. “Do not minimize my worth just because you think every woman you see is fair game.”
“At least I’m honest! He’s never going to stay here. And hell, everyone knows about his cabin in New York and his retirement plan. This was basically his last chance to play and after that injury, there’s no way they’re picking him up for another season. You’ve been a bed warmer, Billie.”
“And you’re a jerk,” I say quietly. “You have no idea what our relationship is like because you won’t give him a chance. You run around screwing every puck bunny that moves but he’s a bad guy? I’d say you’re worse.”
“It’s not a dick move if you’re honest about it.”
“No, it still is. Because they’re all looking for a husband, hoping they’ll be good enough, pretty enough—wild enough in bed—to change your mind. And that’s the example you’ve set for me. Why shouldn’t I behave the same way?”
He growls in frustration. “Don’t use your fancy college education to twist things, Billie. This relationship is over. Do you hear me? If you don’t, I’ll make sure the team knows what he’s done.”
Fear grips me.
Not because I care what Bodi thinks but because I know how important it is for Rome to play another year. If Bodi makes it look like he’s done something wrong, it could hurt his chances.
“Don’t you dare,” I say as calmly as I can. “This has nothing to do with the Phantoms. And it was my choice. In fact, I came on to him first.”
“Doesn’t matter. I created a boundary and he crossed it. That’s not what we do on this team.”
I can think of a lot of mean things to say but I hold back because he won’t take it out on me—he’ll take his anger out on Rome.
“You know I’m twenty-two, right? An adult in every sense of the word. I can buy alcohol, get a tattoo, join the military… the only person who doesn’t see me as a grown-up is you. And something has to give, Bodi.”
“Oh, so you’re choosing him over me?”
“This isn’t about making a choice! You’re my brother and I love you. But I can also love him.”
“Does he love you?”
“I don’t know yet! We’ve only been together a couple of months.”
He laughs derisively. “There you have it. He made you fall in love with him but hasn’t said it back. Don’t you see the red fucking flags, Billie?”
“There are no flags! We agreed to wait until the season was over before we?—”
“So he could leave town without saying goodbye! He told me he was heading to New York as soon as we cleaned out our lockers, that’s how much he hates L.A. He doesn’t love you, Billie. You were just another casual fuck in a long line of them. Go online and check out his reputation.”
My brother might be the most infuriating man in the world. And I don’t know who I want to kill first—him or myself.
“Bodi, I’m not going to argue with you. You don’t get to tell me who I can fall in love with. I’m sorry you have such a low opinion of yourself, and hockey players in general, that you think every single guy who plays is an asshole. That’s sad.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“I think it is. I think you’re projecting your own bad and reckless behavior onto all the other guys. Did you have this conversation with Rowan?”
“Of course not. She and Blake go way back, to high school.”
“But he’s not a bad guy just looking for an easy lay? I mean, he got called up to the Phantoms and there was his high school sweetheart, working for the team. It doesn’t get much more convenient than that.”
“It’s. Different.” His voice is a low growl.
“And so is Rome. He’s not the same man he was in his twenties.”
“Just end it—or I’ll make sure the whole fucking league knows how he took advantage of a teammate’s little sister.”
My breath catches, and tears fill my eyes. “That’s the line you’re drawing? You’re going to threaten us with his career?”
“Hell yeah, I will. I have to protect you even when you don’t know you need protecting. Mom and Dad would expect it.”
“Mom and Dad would expect you to let me figure out life on my own!”
“Not happening.”
With that, he disconnects.
What the fuck just happened?
I never dreamed Bodi would lose his mind this way. I figured he’d be mad, do his level best to convince me of all the reasons I shouldn’t date someone so much older, a pro hockey player with two divorces under his belt, etcetera.
I was prepared for all of that.
Threatening Rome’s career never occurred to me.
Now I don’t know what the hell to do.
I grab my phone and call Rome but it goes to voice mail.
“Hi, it’s me. We need to talk. Please call me back. We knew Bodi would be mad, and he is, but let’s give him a day or two to calm down. Okay? Call me.”
I put the phone down and try to stop the falling tears.
There’s no way I’ll let Bodi destroy Rome’s chance to play another year, even if I have to break my own heart. Once he signs a contract, which will probably happen over the summer, we can straighten this out.
Unless the contract he signs is with another team.
This is a much bigger mess than I anticipated, and Rome is probably licking his wounds in private. I know he’ll want to protect me—that’s what he does—but he has to understand that I’m going to protect him too. I just can’t do that if he doesn’t talk to me. He has to trust me the way I trust him.
Slivers of doubt have crept in, and for the first time since we met, I’m scared I’m going to lose him.