“Hey. Hey. What’s this all about?” he says tenderly.
“I don’t think he would have,” I blubber. The tears are coming like a waterfall—fast and unstoppable. “I don’t think Avery would have gotten involved with me if he knew about things beforehand.”
“You don’t know that, Steph,” Alex replies, patting my back gently. “Westwood is a goddamn idiot, but I don’t think he’s that big of an idiot.”
“It’s why I didn’t tell him. I knew he would run and I didn’t want him to. I like him. I really like him, so I let it happen.” I sniff and feel so pathetic and useless. “I wanted him to feel how right this was before I told him so that it wouldn’t matter. But then I didn’t get to tell him and now it’s ruined.”
Alex squeezes me hard and I curl my head into his neck. “It’s not ruined. Avery knows you’re right for him. The kid isn’t as stupid as he looks. It’ll be fine, Steph. You just need to sleep this off. He’ll be here in the morning and you’ll see.”
Despite his kind, supportive words, I keep crying and he keeps holding me.
Chapter 32
Avery
I get out of the car and walk around the house instead of walking in my back door. It’s late. Really stupid late. Almost five in the morning. I should have been home an hour ago, but the flight left half an hour late and then there was traffic—yeah, fucking traffic. Only in California would the freeway be backed up at four-thirty in the morning. I’m exhausted and all I want to do is sleep—with Stephanie. And I mean sleep. But with her in my arms. With things settled.
I look up at our attached houses. Both are dark. She must have given up and gone to sleep. I was hoping she would wait up, but I don’t blame her for falling asleep. In fact, I realize because I never called her back she’s probably not even sure I’m coming over. The thought makes me feel sick. I don’t want her to think that I would blow her off.
I climb the stairs to my door, but once on the porch I jump the low railing and fiddle with my keys until I find the spare one to her house that she gave me when I moved in. I unlock the door and I let myself in.
The downstairs is quiet and dark. As I make my way up the stairs, I cringe at every creak. I’m trying to be quiet, but the old wood and my two-hundred-pound frame make it impossible. At the top of the stairs, to the right, her bedroom door is open just a crack. I head straight for it. The only light is the moon filtering in from the window behind her bed. She’s neglected to close the curtains.
My eyes, having already adjusted to the dim light, roam to her bed as I take a step into the room. I see her tiny frame is twisted away from the door, her quilt pulled up over her. At first all I see is her hair fanned out on the pillow and then I realize…her body is curled into someone else’s body. I step closer.
Alex.
She’s got her head on my teammate’s chest and her right leg is draped over his thighs; I can tell by the position of the bumps and lumps under the quilt. It’s how she likes to sleep on me. His thick arm is curled around her shoulders holding her in place and his fat head is tipped down like he fell asleep with his lips buried in her hair. Just the way I do.
Everything inside my body turns cold—my blood, my limbs, my heart. It’s like I’ve been injected with liquid nitrogen. She’s sleeping with Larue. Shesleptwith Larue.
I turn and walk out of the room, down the stairs and out the front door. By the time my feet hit the porch I’m shaking with rage and I’m flushed with humiliation. I was falling in love with her. She was…she was supposed to be the one. I blindly threw my hard-earned reputation on the line for her because I felt things for her I never thought I would feel. And…she just fucked my buddy?
How could she do that? Why would Alex? I mean, sure, he chirps about it, but I didn’t think even he would break the code. I honestly thought he was not just a teammate but also a friend. And she…she would do this?
My father’s cautious words, the ones that seemed to sting more than the others, float back into my head.“How well do you really know her, Avery, if you didn’t know this? I mean, what else isn’t she telling you? If she lied about this, then what else is she lying about?”
Is Don right? Is she really not who I thought she was? What the fuck is wrong with me that I didn’t know this? Why would I ever let myself have feelings like this for someone who would…Christ.
I take a deep breath and storm off the porch and back to my car. I’m done with her. I’m done with these stupid feelings. I’m sticking with what I know. What I’m good with. What doesn’t hurt. Hockey. Being alone. Maintaining my fucking image.
I storm around the house again and jump back into my car. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m not sticking around here.
Chapter 33
Stephanie
The first thing I notice as I wake up, even before the hangover drum session taking place in my skull, is the heavy, comforting warmth of the male limbs I’m tangled up in. Instead of opening my eyes, I pinch them shut tighter because I know the pounding will only get worse with light, and I don’t want to leave the comfort of the bed or of the body holding me close.
I stretch a little, and his arms circle my waist a little tighter, his palms flat against my stomach. My shirt is lifted and his skin on mine is rough and delightful. I take a heavy, deep breath and feel his face curl into my neck and his breath tickle my ear right before his lips graze that spot behind my lobe.
“Avery…”
His fingers spread, tickling my abdomen. “Try again, princess,” he whispers softly.
I freeze for a second and then my body goes into flight mode. I grab his wrists and yank his hands away from me and kick at the covers, crawling toward the edge of the bed and jumping out at lightning speed. I stumble as my feet hit the floor and almost topple over. My eyes dart down with my hands that are moving to cover what I think is my naked body, but, luckily, I am fully clothed. Thank God.
“Relax, Steph. It’s okay.”
