Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Her voice sounded detached, dead.
“I can think of a more fun way to energize,” I said, hoping the joke would make her laugh, that we could slip back into the place we’d been on the tarmac when she was teasing me and I was trying not to kiss her in public.
Instead, her face warped, and she turned away from me so I wouldn’t see as more tears broke through.
“Hey,” I said, slipping my fingertips in the crook of her elbow. She wouldn’t look at me until I tilted her chin and gave her no choice. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head, over and over, swiping furiously at the tears that kept coming. She was the strongest, most stubborn woman I knew — and she was crying.
It fucking wrecked me.
I lifted my hands to take the place of hers, thumbing away each tear, and that made her sob before shoving me away. “Stop,” she pleaded, the word croaking out like it pained her.
“Tell me how to help.”
“Stop looking at me like that, stop touching me, stop…” She buried her face in her hands.
I didn’t dare reach for her again.
After a long moment, she let her hands fall to her thighs, her eyes pitiful when they found mine. “We can’t do stuff like this, Vince,” she whispered, licking the tears from her lips. “Because when we do, I… I feel like…”
My heart stopped in my chest before firing back to life with a thunderous kick. “You feel like what, Maven?” I asked, nostrils flaring as I took a step toward her. “Like I love you?”
Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and terrified.
“Like I am compelled by you, by everything that you are, by how you have annihilated whatever version of my life existed before you?”
“Don’t,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stop now.
I closed the last of the distance between us, grabbing her hand and forcing it to my chest. “Do you feel me holding on tighter every time you’re in my arms? Do you feel time slipping away too fast when we’re together?” My jaw tightened with restraint against the emotion strangling my throat. “Do you feel my heart fucking breaking at the thought of losing you? Is that what you feel, Maven?”
Her chin wobbled, two silent tears streaking down her cheeks.
“Look at me,” I begged, and when she did, I swore the world stopped spinning, waiting for us to give it the cue that we were ready again. “Tell me what you feel.”
Her eyelids fluttered, cheeks glistening under the soft light, but her gaze didn’t waver.
“Like I want to believe you,” she admitted softly.
Hope flittered through my ribcage.
“And like I’d end up broken if I actually did.”
Her words slammed into me, knocking my breath from my chest like a hard check against the boards.
This wasn’t her talking. I knew it like I knew every play in the Osprey’s playbook. This was the remnants of the one who came before me, the one who scarred her, who made her feel like she couldn’t trust another man.
Like she couldn’t trust herself.
I opened my mouth, but closed it again, shaking my head. I didn’t say anything.
What else could I say?
“I have to go.” Her voice trembled with the words, more tears searing her cheeks as she tore her gaze from mine. She brushed past me and ripped the door open, sliding through it and tugging it shut behind her before I could so much as blink.
She left.
And I had no choice but to let her.
Break Shit
Maven
Four days before Christmas, the Ospreys had their last home game before the holiday. It was going to be my last game with full access, my last assignment before everything wrapped up. Reya and Camilla were ready for me to tackle what came next, and the Osprey’s GM didn’t want any distractions for the team as they headed into the second half of the season and, hopefully, toward playoffs.
This was it. We’d had our fun, and now, it was time for life to go back to normal.
I should have been with Vince, but instead, I was curled up in the fetal position on my couch with my head in my best friend’s lap.
It had been all I could do to show up for the morning skate, to post a few clips of content and then duck out before I broke down in front of the entire team. When Coach McCabe had asked if I was okay, I’d nearly lost it.
The worst part was that Vince looked just as miserable as I did.
And that was my fault.
I hadn’t just left his condo after that night we spent with his family. I’d left the building, too. I’d packed my belongings and moved back home.
And I’d barely seen Vince since then.
The only content I posted was of him at the rink, where I felt like I could take some photos and videos and then quickly get away.