From as early as I can remember, my brothers have told me countless times how I need to be treated like a lady, how the guy I date needs to be open and honest. How he needs to respect me not only for my body but for my mind too.
Hayden is physically attracted to me, yes, but when I’ve given him the opportunity to push further, he hasn’t taken it. And when he speaks of my job, of my education, he’s in awe, like I have the hardest job he’s ever heard of. It makes me feel . . . valued.
He makes me feel accomplished.
He makes me feel like I’m more than a pair of legs, like I’m a good human being.
And that’s what my brothers want, for me to be appreciated forwhoI am. Not only what I look like.
“I think you’re right.” Emma gets up from my bed and stands behind me, both hands on my shoulders. She looks into the mirror, staring at my reflection. “He’s a good guy, Addie. I’m really happy for you.”
But . . .
“He’s not here forever.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “If it’s meant to be, you’ll work it out, but for now enjoy yourself, enjoy him.”
“I don’t want to get hurt.”
“I don’t want that either, so take one step at a time. If he’s smart enough, he’ll know that when it’s time to go back to Philly, he’ll make whatever is going on between you two work.”
“You think so?” I bite on my lip, feeling so unsure.
Emma gives me aget reallook. “Adalyn, he’s one of the few high-profile hockey players out there we rarely hear about. He’s not in the tabloids with women hanging off him at every event. And you’ve figured out by now that Racer, as much as he is a lunatic at times, he’s good people. And by association, Hayden is too. I mean, he went around to hospitals in the area looking for you. That was so damn sweet. And, I’m pretty sure it means he’s going to put in the effort where you’re concerned.” She presses her fingers into my brow, dissolving the tension in my forehead. “Now stop worrying. You have a cake to make.”
Shit, I do. And it has to be perfect.
Like how Hayden seems to be. Perfect.
Chapter Nine
HAYDEN
“Can you stop dancing for the love of God and finish this damn thing?” I beg of Racer who won’t stop dancing to the playlist he created “just for this occasion.”
Huffing, he steps up next to me and starts hammering the two-by-fours into place. “You’re telling me you can listen to ‘Get your Freak On’by Missy Elliot and not want to bust a move? Dude, she’s a lyrical master.”
“As much as I appreciate the beat, I have things to do tonight.”
Racer cocks his head back. “Things to do? What could you possibly be doing at”—he checks his watch—“eight at night? Don’t you go to bed early? Am I not your only friend here?”
Shit, I don’t want to tell Racer about Adalyn, because I know he’ll flip out. Inhismind, he’s my only friend here.
“Early morning stuff,” I mumble.
“Early morning stuff, huh?” Racer pounds a few nails and then says, “Sounds to me like you have a late-night booty call you’re not telling me about. Am I right?”
I can feel all color drain from my face so I quickly look away, hiding my panic. “Nah,” I clear my throat, “just some training I have to do tomorrow morning. You know, basic training shit.”
Racer is silent. I can feel his stare. His studying gaze waiting for me to falter, waiting for me to show my true colors.
“Who are you training with?”
“Huh?”
Racer lifts another board and hands it to me. I put it in place just as he leans forward, getting in my space. “Who are you training with tomorrow?” He enunciates every word.
“Uh, you know . . . Franklin.”
