Chapter 23 - Nicole #2
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
The relief on his face was immediate. His shoulders loosened, and a foreign warmth filled his eyes. He reached for my hand and stopped himself, catching the movement just in time.
“That’s all I need,” he said. “I knew you’d see reason.”
I pulled my hand back anyway, fidgeting with the leather strap on my purse. “Don’t mistake consideration for agreement.”
“Of course.” He laughed, light and unburdened. “Take all the time you need. Of course, the longer this drags out, the longer your rookie doesn’t get to play.”
The server returned with his water, and James thanked her with that smile he reserved for strangers. Everything about him was different now that he had me considering his offer.
But I felt worse than when I’d arrived. Sick with the quiet knowledge that the team I loved, the one that had carried me through years of watching and hoping, sat balanced on a choice I didn’t want to make.
When we stood to leave, James looked at me with open expectation. I managed a smile that didn’t promise anything.
Outside, the street noise rushed back in. I stepped away from him, putting space where it belonged. The weight of it stayed with me, steady and unyielding, as I walked toward my car knowing that one decision could tilt everything, and hating myself for understanding exactly why that mattered.
*
The front door looked wrong no matter how many times I told myself it was temporary.
The plywood patch cut the entryway into angles that didn’t belong in my apartment, the new screws catching the lamp light every time the movie flashed bright.
Landon sat beside me on the couch, one arm stretched along the back cushion, his attention divided between the screen and the door as if he were expecting James to burst through it at any moment.
I muted the movie and he glanced over.
“Everything okay?”
I nodded, then stopped. Because everything hadn’t been okay in days. I folded my legs under me, feeling the grit of sawdust that still clung to the rug from the DIY repair job.
“I had lunch with James today, and he made me an offer.”
Landon’s body changed immediately from relaxed to painfully alert. His hand dropped from the back of the couch to his thigh. “What kind of offer?”
“He said he’d drop the charges.” I watched his face as I spoke, the way his jaw set before I even finished the sentence. “If I took him back.”
“No.” His response was instant. “Absolutely not.”
“That was my initial reaction too. But…”
His eyes stayed on me, searching for the part where I told him I was kidding. When he didn’t find it, he said, “I mean it, Nicole. You’re not going back to that loser.”
“It’s worth thinking about.”
He dragged a hand through his hair and stood, pacing the length of the living room. He stopped short of the door, stared at the patch, then turned back to me. “There’s nothing to think about. Look at this to remind you why there’s nothing think about.”
“I told him I’d consider it.”
His mouth opened, then closed again. A deep crimson flush started at the base of his neck, working its way up. “Why? Why would you do that? He’s a scumbag. And what about— I thought you and me—”
“Because it would fix this.” I gestured between us, then toward the television.
“You’d be back with the team. The bench thing goes away.
The playoffs aren’t happening without you, and you know it.
If I did this, then you’d be at the arena where you belong, instead of turning into a couch potato with me. ”
He shook his head. “It’s not your responsibility to fix anything.”
“It feels like it is.”
“Well, it isn’t.” His voice rose, then settled again as he crossed back to the couch. He didn’t sit, just stood in front of me with his hands braced on his hips. “Nicole, listen to me. Please. James doesn’t get to trade your safety for my ice time.”
“I can handle him.”
“Don’t you get it? You shouldn’t have to.” His words came faster now, tumbling out of him in a mix of fear and unabated anger. “You already did that once. You already paid for it. Look at the door. Look at what we’re sitting here talking about, for God’s sake.”
“I don’t think it’ll be the same. He wouldn’t—”
“Do you actually believe what you’re saying, or are you trying to convince yourself?”
I stood up, tired of being talked down to. We were close enough that I could feel the warmth rolling off him, the restless energy that had nowhere to go lately.
“He said he’d make it clean,” I said. “He’ll have his lawyers handle everything quickly and painlessly.”
“He’s lying.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Landon’s voice hardened, and he glared at me. “Men like him don’t give things away. They collect.”
I crossed my arms. “I want you to think about how this helps you, Landon.”
“I’m talking about what this does to you.” He took a breath, then another, steadying himself. “This isn’t jealousy or pride, or whatever. It’s not about us, and I don’t care what it costs me.”
“You think you don’t care.”
“No, I know.” His certainty anchored in his gaze as it poured into mine. “I’ve worked my entire life for this. You think I don’t know what I’m risking?”
“Then why won’t you let me fix it?”
“Because it’s not worth losing you.” His voice cracked on the last word, then recovered. “You’re not a bargaining chip, Nicole. And you don’t go back to someone who treats you like one.”
I stepped closer. “You’d really turn it down?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it means—?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed. “What if this ruins your whole career? You’re so young. You have a lifetime of—”
His hands suddenly came up to grip my shoulders firmly, with a little shake that forced me to look at him and nothing else. The room went quiet in a way that pressed against my ears. Landon stared at me, something raw crossing his face before he could stop it.
“I’d rather never touch the ice again than watch you walk back into his life.” His voice shook now, not with anger but with something deeper, heavier. “I won’t do it. I won’t be the reason you make yourself smaller just so I can skate.”
My throat burned. “Landon—”
“I mean it. More than I’ve ever meant anything in my life. You have to see that.” He reached for my hands, holding them between us. “He’s dangerous. I don’t care how charming he sounded at lunch. I don’t care what promises he made. He hurts people. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know.” His thumbs pressed into my palms. “But I get to tell you that I couldn’t live with it. Not for hockey. Not for anything.”
The weight of his words settled over me, slow and inescapable. He wasn’t posturing. He wasn’t trying to win. This was him, stripped down to the truth he didn’t usually say out loud.
I thought about what hockey meant to him, and fear squeezed at the edges of my heart. It was his life…
And still, he stood here telling me he’d walk away from it.
I nodded once. “Okay.”
His shoulders sagged, relief washing through him so clearly it hurt to see. He pulled me into his arms, holding me close, careful and certain.
I rested my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. The answer I hadn’t been looking for clicked into place anyway.
This wasn’t a crush. It hadn’t been for a long time. And the way he chose me, without hesitation, without calculation, told me more than any declaration ever could.