Her guilt is obvious. “I haven’t told my parents about you yet either.”
“You haven’t?”
“I haven’t told them about anything happening in my life lately. I don’t want you and I to be a secret, it’s just…”
“Easier this way,” she finishes for me.
“Yeah.” I cringe. Shit. Since when did I start taking the easy way out? That’s not me at all. “Screw it,” I decide. “I’m not going to worry about what my parents think or what they might have to say. Their opinions don’t matter.”
“Yeah?” She looks doubtful, which only encourages me more.
“Yes.” I nod.
It’s easier said than done, and I know I have a huge task ahead of me, but I’ll never be happy if I keep limiting myself because of comments from the peanut gallery. Suddenly, I remember the text I got during practice. I haven’t had a chance to tell Devin about it yet. I show her the message so I can get her opinion on if it’s legit or not.
She looks appropriately disturbed. “Oliver, I haven’t said anything until now because I didn’t want to falsely accuse anyone or cause drama, but I think you should look into Mark Bailey.”
Her words just confirm what I’ve been thinking but I need to know, “What makes you suspect Bailey?”
She looks sheepish for a moment. “I’ve been doing some…research, if you will. You looked so spooked when Bailey showed up that I looked into him a little bit. I learned that he’s a pretty violent guy and suspended from the next few games for unnecessary aggression. Not to mention the assault and battery accusations that never went anywhere because of his fancy lawyer.” She takes a breath.
I didn’t even know all of that. “Yeah, I always suspected that someone tampered with my skates that night. I know I pissedoff a few of my teammates but Bailey was always the most vocal about his dislike of me.”
She nods. “Did you mention his name during the investigation?”
“Yeah, but nothing could be proven.”
“Well, it might be worth looking into who is sending you these messages,” she says thoughtfully.
“You’re right,” I say decidedly. “I have a friend from back home that’s a private investigator. I think I’ll ask him to do some digging.”
The pizza arrives, giving us a break in the conversation before we move on to discussing other things. I’m already hoping that Devin can come over, and when I drop her off at her car and she agrees to meet me at my apartment, I start breathing easier. Despite my decision to not give a damn about my parents’ opinions, I’m starting to freak out again.
I’m a grown man. A success—well, previously successful pro athlete. I shouldn’t be so influenced by what others think, yet in the face of my parents I often feel like a little kid again.
Stepping into my living room, we shed our outer layers, and Devin sidles up to me. Her hands slide down my chest and then lower, but my body doesn’t respond like it did the last time she touched me there.
Gently, I take her hands in mine. “I’d much rather just… lie on the couch together. Is that okay?”
She blinks at me in surprise. Our conversation over dinner was intense, and I know this move. She’s trying to shake off the heaviness with sex. It’s one of the pitfalls I promised myself I would avoid this time around.
I want to feel close to her, but not through escapism.
“Okay,” she says with a soft nod.
We turn on a movie and cozy up on the couch, my chest against her back and her cradling my arms. Forthe first time since my mom called, my thoughts unscramble. I can think clearly.
Whatever happens next week, it won’t matter. My parents can believe whatever they choose to. I know what’s worthwhile, what’s important to me, and that’s the life I’m building here on Pine Island. That’s coaching. Devin.
I’m exactly where I need to be, and it’s never felt so good.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Oliver
Arriving at the rink, I turn the car off and just sit there. My hands grip the steering wheel until my knuckles go white. Through the windshield, the parking lot lights cast harsh shadows across the asphalt. It’s time to go in.
And I really, really don’t want to.
