How am I supposed to tell him no? I wouldn’t want to go back to be babysat by guard dogs either. Not only that, but there’s that note of vulnerability in Vox’s tone that I’ve only heard a couple times before.
“I’d love nothing more than for you to stay here.” Then another thought occurs to me. “Your phone’s off, right?”
“Mmhmm,” he hums against my chest. He’s silent for a beat, then, “Do you really think my dad’s here?” he asks, the hope in his voice obliterating my heart. Parent-child relationships are complicated, and I have no doubt that Vox loves his dad as much as he resents him and is angry at him. I thinkalmost every kid wants their parents to be proud of them, even if those parents didn’t stick around or contribute much. It’s just embedded in our wiring.
“I’m not sure. Would you want to see him if he is?” I ask carefully, stroking my fingers along the smooth skin on Vox’s side.
“No. He’s had his chance, and maybe it’s immature, but I’m still pissed that he left in the first place. I mean, I’m twenty-five and fairly famous. It’s not like it would take a lot for him to find me. Hell,fansmanage just fine.”
I can’t sympathize with him because I don’t have the same abandonment issues, but my heart is certainly hurting for him, and I’m growing angrier by the second at his father. I’ve never understood how parents could walk away from a child as if they were simply a purchase they wished to return, but knowing it wasVoxhe walked away from makes me irate.
Vox sighs, and I can’t help but think maybe he’s saying no because he feels like he’ssupposedto say no, as if wanting a chance at closure, or a yelling match, or to throw a punch makes him weak. I may not have experienced it myself, but I do know it’s incredibly difficult for children to cut their parents completely out of their lives.
I don’t say any of this to Vox, though. He has enough to deal with without me adding conflicting feelings about his dad into the mix.
I’ll just offer support by staying silent and letting him vent. If he’s angry at his dad, then so am I, and I’ll make sure the man gets nowhere close.
Chapter 35
Vox
Our cuddling is cut short when my stomach rumbles, causing Connor to jump into action. He hops off the bed before I can stop him.
“I totally forgot about dinner. You must be starving. I’ll go relight the grill. Take your time in here, okay?”
He grabs my chin and presses a featherlight kiss to my lips, then leaves the room.
I inhale Connor’s pillow, allowing his scent to wash over me, calming my reeling mind. Several emotions are warring within me, and I need to get a grip. I need to be consumed by something else before my mind explodes. I don’t want to think about Grey, my contract, my good-for-nothing father, my team, the Winter Classic, and I definitely don’t want to think about losing Connor.
The only solution I have for that, though, is to get lostinhim instead.
I make my way outside onto his small patio. He’s rubbing his hands together and holding them over the closed grill lid.
I don’t know what to say, so I let my body do the talking as Imove in front of him, grab his jaw, and sweep my tongue across his lips.
Let me in.
I need you.
Distract me. Please.
Reading me well, Connor grips my waist but pulls his head back. “You want to do dinner later?”
Nodding, I cup him through his thin pants. He must be freezing.
He turns the knob on the grill, takes my hand, and pulls me back inside the cabin. We only make it as far as the kitchen before he turns back around to face me.
“What do you need from me?” he asks. “Anything. It’s yours.”
“I just needyou,” I confess, surprised by the amount of truth in that statement.
“Then take me.”
Tonight, I want to call the shots. Control is a funny thing—giving it, taking it, having it, needing it, losing it, craving it. It’s a versatile concept that has been at the center of my season this year.
But right now, I want it.
Feeling a little unhinged after the time apart from Connor, the unannounced visit from Grey, and the news he carried, I issue a plea.
