Chapter 1
Chapter One
First encounter
“Hey, come in. I honestly didn’t know if you would answer. We didn’t really talk about whether it was a one-time thing or…”
She got no further. Lucas pressed her against the door with his big, heavy body, ran his hands under her shirt, and lowered his lips to hers.
Right. No talking.
February
(Half a year later)
Dax Temple is my brother, and I love Penelope Clark.”
When the words left Jack West’s mouth, all hell broke loose on the TV screen — and Lucas Moreau’s water bottle slipped from his hand.
The plastic hit the whirring treadmill loudly, the water splashing his legs before the bottle was thrown backward and the rest of the contents spilled onto the floor.
“What?” Fox shouted in disbelief on the treadmill next to him. “He’s…fuck, what? I thought it was a rumor! Or just an affair. Now he loves her?”
Moreau slammed his fist against the treadmill stop button while grinding his teeth painfully. He didn’t give a damn that his colleague and the owner of the Hawks were fucking each other! That was completely uninteresting. All that was rushing through his head was…
“And Dax is his brother? What?” Fox shook his head in disbelief. “How did we not know?”
Yes. How? Because if Dax was Jack’s brother, that meant…
“Fuck,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes.
This would make headlines. The press would tear apart Dax and Jack’s family.
They would want to know why they had kept it a secret.
Moreau didn’t give a damn about why; Dax and Jack had every right to keep their family issues a secret.
Shit, no one understood that better than he did!
They weren’t the ones who had lied to him, who owed him that damn information. The information he had asked for!
“Fuck,” he repeated, rubbing his face.
Anna hadn’t said anything. The media circus of the century would roll into her life, and if anyone connected her to him, started to take an interest in him… He would never forgive her. Not to mention that he would be dead because now two of his teammates would kill him.
His teeth were grinding while his heart pumped frantically, like he was still running on the treadmill.
It had been stupid of him to even get into bed with her. How could he have risked it? Just for a few fucks.
“Are you okay?” Fox asked, and when Moreau looked up, he noticed that the team captain – and, coincidentally, his best friend – was frowning at him.
“No,” he replied harshly.
No scandals. No attention. That was all he needed. Shit. The anger hardened his shoulders and his jaw, and apparently, his gaze too, because Fox looked more and more confused.
“Do you have a crush on Penelope Clark too, or why is it bothering you so much?”
He snorted. He had never had a crush in his life. “We’re about to go to the playoffs. We don’t need the media circus,” he replied darkly, and it was at least part of the truth.
“You’re right,” Fox muttered, narrowing his eyes. “But stop putting so much pressure on yourself. It wasn’t your fault last year that we…”
“Of course it was.”
His friend sighed. “Yeah, okay, but it was a shitty time,” he said gently. “You couldn’t think straight, and no one can blame you for that.”
Yes. And it was the only reason he had pushed Anna into the cloakroom in the first place. He hadn’t been thinking straight. But that was six months ago – things were different. He should have known better.
His cell phone rang. It was on the treadmill display with a single word flashing.
“ ‘Her’ is calling,” Fox read, raising his eyebrows. “Who is her?”
“None of your business.” Moreau’s jaw cracked as he pulled the phone out.
Fox shook his head, grinning. “You always say you’re not mysterious, but when I see something like that…”
“It’s not mysterious!”
“Then answer the phone.” Fox looked at him challengingly.
Fuck. But what choice did he have? Nobody knew about Anna. And he certainly wouldn’t give his best friend the chance to put two and two together.
So he picked up. “Hm?”
“Hey,” came a hesitant female voice that he had heard moaning more often than speaking. “How…how are you?”
He didn’t answer, but clenched his hand.
Anna cleared her throat. “Yeah, well. Um. Tell me…are you watching TV right now, by chance?”
He gritted his teeth. Guilt made her voice hoarse, as if she were about to come. “Hm,” he said.
“Oh.” Silence. “So…you know?”
He remained silent because most of the time, words weren’t even necessary.
“Shit.”
Yep.
“I thought the press conference was tomorrow. I was preparing for the exam and forgot, I…” She swallowed audibly. “I couldn’t tell you beforehand.”
“Aha.”
“You’re not alone, are you?”
“No.”
“But you’re angry.”
He refrained from saying yes.
She sighed heavily. “Can we talk about it? I wanted to warn you, really.”
He laughed dryly.
“Yeah, I know that probably wouldn’t have made it any better, but…”
“We’re done,” he interrupted. To be honest, he was surprised he had to say it. But Anna wouldn’t stop talking if he didn’t. The no-talking rule had always been the hardest for her.
Silence spread across the other side. Then: “Done?”
Done? Fox mouthed with interest.
Oh, shit.
Annoyed, Moreau jumped off the treadmill, turned his back on his far too curious captain, and hurried to the other side of the gym, which was the size of a hockey rink.
“One rule,” he growled quietly. “No lies, no drama.”
“I didn’t lie. I never said Jack wasn’t my brother.”
He pressed his lips together.
“You don’t have to know everything about me, you know.”
If she said something like that again, his phone would be nothing but electronic waste.
“Shit,” she whispered when he still didn’t answer after twenty seconds. “I’m sorry. But I had no right to tell you. It wasn’t my secret. Jack and Dax wanted to keep it between them.”
She didn’t have to tell him the details. All shew had to say was that there was something that could be his undoing. Then he would have left her the hell alone.
“We’re done,” he repeated harshly and hung up.
He should have ended it sooner. It had been reckless before, but…
the one hour a week with Anna had been the only thing that had belonged to him.
It had kept him sane. For a short time, it had made him forget how hard everything was.
It had made him forget he would never be able to fulfill Laney’s wishes, that she had chosen the wrong guy, back then.
That even after six months, he still had no idea what he was doing.
His cell phone vibrated and a message popped up on the screen.
Where are you? I have to leave the house in half an hour.
Moreau glanced at the clock and cursed quietly. He was late.
He put the phone away and strode back to the treadmill, next to which lay his gym bag.
“Who was that? Her?” Fox wanted to know. “And why are you done?”
“I have to go.”
“You’re deflecting. Is Her special?”
“No.”
“Is Her the ominous fuck buddy that you’ve been trying to keep secret from me for half a year?”
“Shut up, Austin.”
His friend chuckled softly. “Austin. You only call me by my first name when I’m getting on your nerves.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
Fox’s laughter grew louder. “At least tell me why she’s no longer your fuck buddy. You were always more relaxed when you came back from her.”
Yes, spectacular sex with a woman who didn’t even want to cuddle had that effect. “It got complicated.”
“Ah, and you don’t like things complicated. Because complicated things are already waiting for you at home.”
“Yes,” he replied harshly because that was how it was.
“Give her a hug for me,” Fox called after him. Moreau merely nodded and was out the door.
“You’re late,” was how he was greeted forty-five minutes later.
“Traffic.” He entered the house and took off his jacket.
Hazel snorted and pushed past him. “You made me late for a business dinner.”
“They’ll forgive you.”
“Gareth Clark doesn’t forgive. He’d need a heart for that,” she replied angrily. “And the dinner is about your contract, so you should care more about my punctuality.”
He sighed. The Hawks’ second owner was Hazel’s declared arch-enemy. “Sorry. Was training. Got distracted.”
His agent and now closest friend narrowed her eyes. She was direct, always honest, and had no patience for bullshit, which was the reason he’d switched to her agency five years ago. That, and she knew when not to ask questions. “Fine. But I want a raise for my selfless kindness.”
“You made half a million off me last year,” he remarked dryly.
She grinned. “And this year it’ll be a whole lot better. But never mind, I really have to go. You’ll be here tomorrow, right? You don’t need me?”
“No. But thanks. Is she upstairs?”
“Yes. She’s asleep. She asked for you.”
He nodded, his chest tightening. “I’ll check on her.”
“She’s asleep, Moreau! Give yourself a break,” Hazel said gently, squeezing his arm.
No, she wasn’t sleeping. Lately, she was always up waiting for him. It had started a few weeks ago, and he didn’t know how to deal with it, especially when he had an evening game and came home late. “Go, Hazel. And thank you.”
“No problem. But today can’t become a habit, you know that, right?” She raised her eyebrows. “I love you, but I have a job and your parents…”
“They already take her during our away games, Hazel. It’s too much.”
And Laney wouldn’t like her daughter spending too much time with her grandparents. Shit, he didn’t like it, himself! They had improved, but still…
Hazel nodded, squeezed his shoulder, and closed the door behind her.
Sighing, he ran the palm of his hand over his face and breathed in and out deeply, but the tight feeling in his chest didn’t go away. It hadn’t for six months. The only time he’d been able to forget was when Anna moaned in his ear, “I know you don’t like talking, but it’s so damn good!”
He kicked off his shoes, hurried into the kitchen, and filled a cup with water before taking the stairs in the hall.