Chapter Thirty-Three Scars #2
I slide my hands over his wrists, stepping between him and the dresser. I take his hands, trapping his fingers before he can reach for something else to fix. At first, his muscles lock up. He resists me without meaning to, his body fighting to break free.
I don't let go and instead tighten my grip and lean in until my chest is pressed against his.
“Julian, look at me,” I command, my voice steady. “Stop looking at the room. Focus on you and me. What can you control right now?”
His chest is heaving, his dark curls falling over his forehead as his eyes search mine.
“Me,” I whisper, squeezing his hands. “You. This. Us. Right here, right now.”
He lets out a long, heavy exhale.
“Everybody leaves eventually,” he whispers. The admission that rips straight through my chest. “I can't control that.”
“I'm not going anywhere, Julian,” I assure him. “I am not your brother, and I am not your mother. I won't leave you. None of what happened to you in that house was your fault. You were a kid. You didn't deserve any of it.”
A muscle twitches in his jaw, and a raw, exposed look crosses his face.
“I'm falling for you,” I confess, the truth slipping out of me effortlessly. “Hard.”
He shakes his head, a heavy sigh leaving him as he looks down at our joined hands.
“Don’t,” he states. He steps back, creating a sudden chasm of space between us in the dim room. “It’s a bad idea, Hadley. Drop it.”
The sudden shift makes my heart stutter. He’s putting the armor back on, retreating into the shadow of the grizzly bear on his back, trying to freeze me out because he thinks it will protect us both.
“Julian, no,” I say, refusing to let him retreat into the dark. I take a step forward, closing the distance he just made. My eyes lock fiercely onto his. “You don't get to just shut down and tell me to drop it. Not after what you just told me. Tell me what you’re actually afraid of.”
For a long, tense second, he just stares at me, his chest rising and falling as he tries to maintain that rigid, avoidant composure. I hold his gaze, refusing to look away.
He lets out a harsh, bitter sound, the mask finally cracking to reveal the raw, jagged edges underneath.
“You want to know what I'm thinking?” he demands, his voice rising. “Think about reality, Hadley. Your grandfather is my coach. If he finds out about this, my career is a fucking dumpster fire. And outside of hockey? I’m too old for you. I’m too broken.
You’re sweet, and you’re good, and you deserve a hell of a lot better than whatever the fuck is left of me. ”
“I don't care,” I insist, not backing down an inch. “I don't care about any of it right now. Do you know who told me to take risks? Who told me to stop letting other people control my life and decide what I’m allowed to want? You did.”
A faint, cocky smile touches his lips. “Hadley—”
“I’m done playing it safe when it comes to you, Julian Wilder,” I interrupt, my heart hammering, but my voice absolutely unshakeable. “I want this. I want you.”
Julian hesitates another moment before shaking his head
“I don't want to lose you either,” he admits. He closes his eyes, pressing a desperate, hot kiss to the center of my palm.
“Then we don’t tell anyone,” I insist, my voice steady as I look up into his dark eyes. “We don’t tell my grandfather. We don't tell the team. We don't have to figure out the whole world right now, Julian. For now, we can keep it just between the two of us.”
Julian goes still, his heavy chest rising and falling against my hands as he processes my words. The harsh, defensive line of his jaw softens, his eyes sweeping over my face as if searching for any hint of hesitation.
A slow, dark heat bleeds back into his gaze. He brings his large hands up to grip my waist, his fingers digging into my skin.
“Just you and me,” he roughs out, his rumbling voice sending a delicious shiver down my spine. “No one else gets a piece of this. If we do this, Hadley, it stays locked behind closed doors. You understand me?”
Relief washes over me so fast, my knees feel weak.
“Just the two of us,” I agree, a bright smile curling my lips. “We’ll figure the rest out together.”
The tension melts out of Julian’s frame, and a wicked, familiar glint sparks in his dark eyes.
Before I can even process the shift, his hands slide under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. I let out a small gasp, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carries me back toward the tangled white sheets of the bed.
He deposits me gently onto the mattress, hovering over me, his massive body blocking out the rest of the room. He leans down, his mouth brushing against the shell of my ear, his voice dropping into a quiet, teasing rumble that sends a violent shiver straight down my spine.
“What happens in Vegas…”
“Follows us back home,” I finish before he can.
He laughs. His mouth slides down my throat, his hands firmly anchoring my hips to the mattress. He moves down the length of my body, his touch deliberate, reverent, and entirely unhurried. When his tongue finds my heated folds between my thighs, every thought vanishes into pure, blinding static.
I fall apart. My fingers tangle in his dark curls. My back arches off the bed as he brings me to an explosive, shattering climax. As I cry out into the quiet room, I know by the fierce, possessive way he holds me that he never wants to let me go.