I turned around, pushed my shoulders back, and kept walking. Inside, I looked around until I found Banks. Of course, table ten was on the other side. I didn’t even want to sit at his table, but I knew it was for the best. Prescott's eyes caught mine as I passed, and I could see a sadness mirrored my own. He managed a small nod and turned away to speak to his teammate. He knew as well as I did that tonight wasn’t a good time for us to interact. He had been friends with Luke and missed him as much as I did. I took in the tent, equipped with chandeliers and white and purple centerpieces on each table. It looked more like a wedding than a sports event. Marie’s doing, for sure. She was probably trying to show Dad what their wedding could look like if he proposed to her. The tables were big enough to seat eight and twelve people and consisted of agents, athletes, and professional coaches from each sport. It was a fancy networking event — a loophole for student-athletes to brush shoulders with agents and coaches they probably shouldn’t be speaking to yet.
I grabbed a number ten since Banks was sitting there. It didn’t matter who else was at the table. I’d be uncomfortable no matter what. Banks was waiting for me, and he smiled and opened his arms for a hug. I returned it before taking my seat. After saying hello to the volleyball player Banks had been speaking with, I looked around more. If this went my way, I’d be a ghost at this table, and then I’d get up and leave without anyone noticing my absence. It happened often enough these days. I spotted Dad and Marie mingling and moved further down in my seat, hoping the tall figures of Banks and the volleyball players would serve as shields. I was staring at my black and gold nails when I heard new voices approach our table. I kept my eyes down. If I didn’t look, I wasn’t there. That was my motto. Someone sat beside me, and I stilled, straightening in my seat and pushing my shoulders back. I knew that scent. Jesus Christ on a cracker, this couldnotbe happening right now. I kept looking at my nails.
“If I tell you that you look beautiful, will you throw your glass of water in my face?” he asked, his deep voice tickling my ear.
My heart raced the way it did every time he was around. It had become such a foreign feeling that I thought I was dying the first time it happened. I tried to fight the shiver that rolled through my body and, hoping to keep my face impassive, continued to count to ten. I didn’t know what I’d done to earn Lachlan Duke’s attention, but I wish I could undo it. It would make things so much easier. A few times, I’d given in and flirted back, kicking myself each time for doing so. The last thing I needed was to give him a reason to think we could be friends. Or worse, more than friends.
It wouldn't have been a question if I’d met him a few years ago. I would have welcomed this insanity. I would have thrown myself into it without a second thought. Now, though, I couldn’t open myself up to anyone, especially not him. He had a bright future ahead of him, according to the sports articles I’d found when I searched for him. I waited for another three counts and braced myself to look at him. He was too good-looking and even more so in that suit. I let my eyes take him in — his thick brown, normally tousled hair was brushed back. My gaze drifted down his perfect olive skin, full lips, and carved jawline. His dark lashes were to kill for, and those eyes — olive green with specks of brown — wrecked me every time. He was tall and imposing in a way that either made you feel safe or terrified. He evoked both for me.
He’d never know it, though. He’d never know how much I wanted to reach out and touch each one of his features. He’d never know that he was the only one who had ever made me feel this way. People threw the word love around all the time. I didn’t know what this was, but I didn’t think it was that. There was just something about him. He looked at me like I mattered. Like he sawme, the person hidden beneath the grief and the guilt.
“Thank you.” My lips moved. I smiled or gave him whatever was left of it these days. “You look beautiful as well.”
His eyes danced. He leaned in and whispered, “Is this a nightmare for you?”
My body went rigid. He couldn’t have known just how much of a nightmare it was for me to do anything tonight, let alone be around people. He’d just said these words to me the other day and gotten a response, but tonight was different. The other day, the question was amusing. Tonight, the words cut through me like claws, shredding whatever was left of my broken heart. I continued to count and breathe until I got myself together. The last thing I needed was to draw attention and drag him into this. I swallowed hard. Fuck. On any other night, I would have been able to keep my impassive, blasé attitude. I might have even been able to laugh at his comment. Tonight, my eyes watered without permission. I bit my lip hard as my nails started blurring on my lap. I counted to ten and started again. I felt his hand, just a brush of his fingertips on my shoulder, and shook my head, biting my lip harder. At the first taste of blood, my brain snapped out of it. When I finally trusted myself to speak, I cleared my throat and pushed my chair back.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Hey, you okay?” That was Banks.
“Yep. Just saw someone I need to say hi to.” I pushed my chair in and walked out of the tent.
Thank God, there were four exits to this thing. I walked through the nearest one in the direction of the guest house. A group of people talking near the door forced me to change course. I side-stepped the purple flower bed Marie just had put in for this event — official Fairview school colors — and pushed open the gate that led to the small area between the houses. It was a sanctuary where I used to hang out and talk and sometimes drink or smoke pot with my friends. It was where I’d had my first kiss and lost my virginity. I was so reckless back then — so carefree, so trusting, so fucking stupid.
Thinking about how I used to be made me want to scream. I should have just left the event, but I knew that decision would have repercussions. I sat on the bench and focused on taking calming deep breaths. When that didn’t work, and I still felt like crying, I stood up and started pacing. I chanted my usual mantra:Just get through this. Just get through tonight.I was pacing back to the other side, still chanting quietly, when I saw his form in the dark and froze mid-step. He took a step forward, right underneath the tealights Marissa and I helped Mom put up. God, that felt like a lifetime ago.
“What did I say?” Lachlan had his hands in his pockets and a genuine look of concern on his face.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Please go back to the dinner. I’m fine.”
He walked over slowly, the way zoo keepers walk into cages. I could have run, could have hurled insults at him, could have done several things to push him away, but I stayed put. He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets when he reached me. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his overbearing presence and his scent underneath a dab of cologne that oddly brought me comfort each time he was nearby. I wanted to throw my arms around him. I wanted him to throw his arms around me. Something about him spoke to me on a level I couldn’t quite understand. There was a hint of anger and pain underneath the athletic body and disarming smile. Maybe that was why he wanted to get past the walls I’d built around myself. I let that sit for a moment, let the fact that this sought-after hot hockey star, possibly the most handsome guy I’d ever laid eyes on, kept showing up for some wild reason. Tethering him to me would be selfish. Reckless. As much as I wanted him, I couldn’t do that. As it was, I should’ve forced him to walk away, and I would’ve—any other night. But tonight, I was tired. So fucking tired.
My bottom lip began to wobble, my eyes filling with tears, as I stared at the second button of his white dress shirt. I took another breath, sniffling, and swallowed hard to keep from openly crying, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t even know Lach, not really. I couldn’t tell you anything about his family or his favorite food. Yet, somehow, I felt more comfortable around him than most people. Despite that, I hated feeling weak, especially in public. I hadn’t broken down in front of anyone besides Marissa, and it had been a while since she’d seen me like this. I’d give myself grace tonight. Maybe seeing me this way would finally make him run for the hills, and I would no longer have to try to push him away.
I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter. There was no way for me to pretend nothing was wrong or hide my emotions. So, I didn’t. I wiped under my eyes and looked up until I finally met his eyes. I let him see me. This version of myself who bleeds the same as everyone else, who hurts like everyone else, whofeels. He swallowed hard as his eyes took me in. I was sure he’d think I was nuts, but in his eyes, I found understanding. And that was what made the next sob leave my chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, engulfing me as he set his chin on my head.
“You’re okay.” It was a chant, a mantra, a promise. “I got you. You’re okay.”
That made it worse. My chest shook with that promise. I wished it were true. I wished things were different and I could allow myself to believe it, to welcome it. I hated this so much. He held me and let me cry until I had no more tears left. When I finally came down from it, I took a breath, pulled away, and wiped my face a few times. I was sure my makeup was a disaster, though, and I’d need to wash my face and reapply it.
“This is so embarrassing,” I whispered to the second button.
“Don’t do that.” He tilted my chin. “I would never judge you.”
I swallowed, took a shaky breath, and wiped my face again. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I can’t.” My lip wobbled again, but I contained myself. “Not tonight.”Not ever.
He wrapped his arms around me again and exhaled as he held me, caressing the back of my right shoulder with his thumb in soothing, circular motions. I wasn’t sure how much time went by, maybe minutes, maybe an eternity, but I felt content for the first time in two years. I felt safe. Ifelt,period. And I knew it was wrong. Part of me wished I could tell him what happened, but I knew I couldn’t. What would I say? That no matter how much stalking he did, he’d never beat my actual fucking stalker, the person who had ruined my life multiple times? That I couldn’t go to the police like a regular person because the entire city was in his pocket? In the end, I said nothing. Not tonight. I’d have to put an end to it, though, because if this continued, I would be his ruin. And even I wasn’t strong enough to bear that much guilt.
CHAPTER5
LACHLAN
I walkedLyla to the guest house and waited for her to fix her makeup. I wanted to carry her away from this house. From this town. From this state. From this country. From this fucking planet. Whatever it would take to make her smile. I’d never been one to care much about women crying. I’d seen my mother cry often. I’d made girls cry when they tried to guilt me into wanting more. Tears annoyed the fuck out of me. They always came with some sort of expectation — comfort, sex, whatever. Seeing Lyla cry fucked me up. Maybe because she rarely showed emotion at all. Maybe because I cared a little more than I wanted to admit.
