Chapter 10 #2
Now, she was standing here, her heart cracking in two…
because she’d fallen in love with a man who saw her as nothing more than a means to an end.
A tool he could use to save his career. The worst part was, she’d volunteered to be that tool, then promptly let herself forget that’s exactly what she was.
Tank wasn’t the bad guy in this. He had agreed to a fake relationship and sex without strings. Nothing more, nothing less. And she’d let him believe she could handle that. Hell, she’d told herself she could handle that, because she was a stupid idiot, drunk on orgasms.
The fact that she was standing here, feeling as if her heart was being ripped to shreds, proved just how wrong she’d been.
She’d fallen in love with the wrong man.
Again.
“Here you go, Mac,” Padraig said, loud enough to capture Tank’s attention.
He grinned when he spotted her, walking over.
“There you are.” He wrapped his arm around her, giving her a curious look when she stiffened uncomfortably.
She pulled away under the pretense of reaching into her back pocket for her credit card, which she handed to Padraig. The bartender took it but hung around for a minute to congratulate Tank on the big win.
McKenna listened with half an ear as Tank chatted with Padraig about the game, her thoughts and emotions creating too much havoc for her to follow along.
“That goal in the first…” Padraig continued, describing how Tank got the momentum rolling within the first five minutes of play.
“…wouldn’t have known it from the way Coach just ripped me a new one over that high-sticking penalty in the…” Tank complained.
“…just part of the game…” Padraig commiserated.
“…couldn’t have pulled off the win without Coulton…” Tank discussed how amazing their goalie had been, stopping shot after shot.
“…might be the year the Rays go all the way…” Padraig gushed excitedly.
McKenna stood there, fighting to regulate her breathing, trying to act normal despite the fact it was taking everything she had not to fall apart.
Finally, Padraig went to run her card.
“Did you save me a seat?” Tank pressed a kiss to the side of her head. He was an affectionate man, always finding ways to touch her, always giving her those sweet kisses. She could almost convince herself the pain she was experiencing was his fault, because he played this game too fucking well.
Unfortunately, the anger didn’t land, because she knew the fault for this agony rested squarely on her shoulders.
“Actually,” she said, clearing her throat, which had grown tight. “You can have my seat. I, uh, I’ve got a killer migraine coming on. I think I’d better head home.”
Tank’s happy expression morphed to one of concern. “We don’t have to stay. In fact, I’ll drive you home and—”
“No,” she quickly interjected. “No. You stay here and celebrate. All I’m going to do is take some medicine, crawl into my bed, and sleep it off.”
“I don’t like the idea of you being alone if you don’t feel well.”
It was Tank…saying sweet things like that, that was fucking her up.
She gave him a forced smile. “It’s just a headache, Tank. All I need is a good night’s sleep in a dark, quiet room.”
She realized her words had come out with a bit too much bite when Tank’s concern switched to something else. The right something else…because he glanced over his shoulder, toward where Lara was standing near the other end of the bar with Emily, Mindy, and a couple other Stingrays groupies.
“Is this about Lara?” he asked.
She hastily shook her head, which was clearly a dead giveaway.
“Coach held me back to ream my ass for a penalty,” he said.
“When I came out, most of the parking lot was empty. Lara was standing next to her car. Apparently, she’d forgotten her purse in her uncle’s box and security let her in to get it.
When she came back out, someone had slashed a couple of her tires.
She was alone in a dark parking lot, Mouse.
She called a tow truck, and I gave her a lift here.
She’s planning to bum a ride home tonight with Emily. ”
It was a perfectly acceptable story. Just like the ones Eddie used to feed her.
And Tank told it with such conviction, she found herself believing him. Because she was a gullible idiot, always managing to fall for the man who only wanted to stay for a while but never forever.
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Tank. Nothing between us is real, remember?”
McKenna took a small step back at the dark scowl that comment earned her, confused by his reaction. Shouldn’t he be relieved by her words?
In the end, it didn’t matter how he felt, because she really couldn’t do any of this right now.
Talk to him.
Pretend she wasn’t dying inside.
Act as if she believed him.
None of it.
“It was nice of you to make sure she was safe,” she added for good measure, even though those words tasted like shit.
Tank studied her face way too closely, trying to decide if she was as cool as she was pretending.
“Honest, Tank. Everything is fine. I just have a headache.”
Padraig returned with the slip for her to sign, so she turned away from Tank, drawing in a breath she hoped would steady her. Instead, it was shaky and shallow.
“Do you mind taking these back to the table?” she asked, picking up the pitchers and practically thrusting them into Tank’s hands so he had no choice but to grab them. “And tell the girls I’ll talk to them tomorrow?”
“Mouse—” Tank started.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “I just need sleep.” She feared Tank was going to continue to fight her. “You need to celebrate with the team,” she added, desperate to make her escape. “It was a great game.”
He nodded but didn’t smile. Then he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “If you’re sure—”
“I am.”
“I’ll text you in the morning,” he said.
“Okay. Have fun tonight,” she said, those words sending a piercing pain straight to her heart, as she considered the fact she was leaving him here with Lara.
Time to cut and run, because the tears were coming.
She stepped around him, giving him a quick wave over her shoulder. She crossed the street to the parking lot, feeling his eyes on her the entire way. She didn’t look back because there was no hiding the utter devastation on her face.
She climbed into her car, carefully averting her face from the pub as she pulled out of the spot and onto the street. She didn’t manage to start breathing again until she was a full block away.
She’d only made it one more block before she said, “Call Mom.”
McKenna listened as the phone started ringing through the car’s speakers, aware she probably shouldn’t have initiated this call before she got home. She was only just managing to keep the tears at bay, and she feared the moment she heard her mother’s voice, she’d lose it completely.
“Mickey, what a nice surprise. I figured you’d be out late celebrating with the team.”
“I left early.” She thought she’d done an okay job replying, her voice surprisingly steady.
It didn’t matter. Her mother knew her too well. “What’s wrong?”
She quickly swiped at the bastard tear that escaped its confines, sliding down her cheek. “I fucked up.”
“It’s Tank, isn’t it?”
McKenna was surprised her mother had immediately jumped to the right reason, because while Mom knew all about the redemption tour and the fake dating, she hadn’t told her about the sex or her feelings. It was the first time in her life that McKenna had ever kept a secret from her mom.
“Why do you say that?” McKenna asked.
“Mickey—I follow you on Find my Friends. I can see how many nights you haven’t made it home…at all.”
Jesus. McKenna really had been drunk on lust and orgasms. She hadn’t even considered the fact her mother could see her location. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you?”
“I…” McKenna paused. She knew the answer to that question, but saying it out loud would make it too real. “I can’t be in love with him.”
“Why not?”
“So many reasons,” McKenna said, the list forming in her mind. It was a long one.
“Like?” Mom prodded, sounding more like someone who needed to be convinced instead of someone who agreed.
“Tank isn’t looking to settle down.”
“He told you that?” Mom asked.
“Yes. He told me exactly that in very plain, easy-to-understand words.”
“When?”
McKenna didn’t understand why that mattered, but she replied anyway.
“The first morning I went to his place after that video went viral. He said he wasn’t even thinking about marriage until after he retired from the game.
He’s a player. He loves the whole ‘rock star’ kind of lifestyle attached to being a professional athlete. ”
“That was months ago, Mickey. Don’t you think he could have changed his mind?”
McKenna shook her head, even though her mother couldn’t see her. “No. Because none of this is real. I told you the whole relationship idea was just an act, part of our attempt to clean up his reputation. It’s all been fake to him.”
Mom fell silent for a moment, then pointed out the two words McKenna probably shouldn’t have tacked onto the end of that last sentence. “To him? But not to you?”
She sighed. “I have a knack for picking the wrong guy. It seems to be my superpower. Always falling for guys who can’t love me back…at least not for the long term.”
“Every woman in the world has a list of duds, of fish they threw back. It’s very rare for anyone to find the perfect guy right out of the gate. You had to go through those idiots to learn what you don’t want in a man. And what you do.”
“So you’re saying Tank is just another one of my duds?” Even as McKenna said it, she knew he wasn’t. If what Mom said was true, and Camden, Dale, and Eddie had taught her what she wanted in a man, then the lesson she’d learned was that she wanted Tank.
“No. I’m not saying that, because I’m still waiting to hear a good reason why you think you fucked up.”
“He’s a commitment-phobic hockey player. Sound familiar?”