Page 55 of The Groupie

“Except we’ll still be connected by the deals we do together.”

“That’s business.”

“It was business between me and coach. Until it wasn’t.”

“I’m not him.”

“You’re worse.”

“How do you figure?”

I can’t tell him it’s because our chemistry is off the charts, nothing like I’ve experienced before, or because I crave his touch, because I want to tell him all my secrets. Worst of all, I can’t tell him it’s because a part of me wants to cave in and have him take care of everything, which goes against everything I’ve ever stood for, all the independence.

I don’t need another soul. All the survival instincts in me, that have been bred in me forever since I lost my parents, scream at me to remember this whenever I’m around him. Because that’s when I weaken.

“You’re too risky.” But I’m the daredevil, aren’t I? If so, that makes him the devil.

“Come on,” he says, unhappy with my answer. “You’re a go-for-the-brass-ring kind of woman, aren’t you? Take a chance.”

“Not that kind of chance. The consequences could be too...” I wave a hand, unable to expose myself any further to him, or to myself.

“What’s this about?” With gentle hands, he pulls me closer to him on the bed. He’s so fucking hard to resist when he’s nice, when he shows the other side of him that has nothing to do with fun and sex, when my heart melts with wanting more of all of him.

Do I bare my one last secret, about my parents?Maybe he already figures the worst since I’m a foster kid.

“I don’t like being tied to people, okay? I don’t come from a happy home like you did.”

“How do you know about my happy home?”

“You’re right. You suffered a great tragedy when your friend died, but you had your parents and your sisters. Everything about you shouts happy childhood and family sprinkled with pixie dust and poof, right out of college, your hockey career dreams come true. Me? I struggled to make the Olympic team for six years, missed it four years ago, and just when I make the team a few months ago, I stupidly injure myself and could lose it all.”

“You’ll recover,” he says.

“That’s it? That’s all you got?”

“I got you a deal.” He pauses, his face softens, and he leans closer. “And I have me. I’ll be here for you if you want me. There’s something in you that makes me believe you can do anything.”

Those are the most devastating words any man has ever said to me.

“You’re ridiculous. You can’t promise you’ll always be there for me, can you?”

“No, I—”

Reality reasserts itself, erasing the absurd fairytale of happy-ever-after he’s trying to sell. I wave my hands between us. “This… thing between us, it’s not permanent. It’s temporary until I get back on my snowboard and then I’m off, out of here.”

His soft expression disappears, and his mouth flatlines as he turns away from me. “I get it. You think I want something permanent?” he scoffs. “Not on your life. I enjoy my bachelor lifestyle. I’m on top of the world where I am, happy as a clam and plan to stay that way.” He smirks, but I can tell it’s forced. His eyes don’t show the happy crinkles at the corners.

“Forever?” I don’t know what makes me ask the question, but it’s a stupid one because why do I care?

“I don’t know.” He lowers his voice until it vibrates, and I strain to hear. “If I didn’t want to stay a bachelor, would that be so terrible?”

I’m startled, and my heart stumbles. It feels like something’s tearing at my chest, and I don’t know if it’s something terrible trying to get in or something destructive trying to get out.

I back away. “It would be scary. Something I want no part of.” I hug my arms around my chest and force air in and out.

He pulls back, and for the first time, I see real trouble in his eyes, something deep and panicked. Pain glistens in his eyes and leaps across that connection we have to lodge in my chest, making the previous terrible, destructive scary thing residing there seem like a ripple compared to the seismic cracks I feel now.

Some buried caring instinct in me rears up, the same one that made me protective of Suzie all those years ago, and I feel an overwhelming need to protect him from that pain I see and feel, to make things right for him.

Taking his hand, I pull him down onto the bed, and wrapping him in my arms, I kiss him. I kiss his mouth, his eyes, his cheeks, everywhere on his face, and his temples. I don’t know what I’m doing or exactly why except I want him to have all my strength and passion because I need to undo whatever pain I’ve caused.

His powerful arms hug me back, and he whispers near my ear, “That’s always the cure for you, isn’t it? Fuck the problem away?”

I feel his smile as he tosses my words back at me. His low voice rumbles through me, settling me. “It’s worked so far. Let’s keep doing it until it stops working. Deal?”

“I can take that deal.”

I sigh as he rolls on top of me, mostly because the feel of his calloused palms cruising down my body to the promised land have me on the edge of anticipation so fast that I’ve almost forgotten that troubled look in his eyes, the one that tells me he’s on the edge of needing more from me.

Maybe more than I have to give.