Page 21 of Forbidden Forward

I don’t argue. “Let me help you with your stuff.”

“No, I’ve got this,” she mumbles, her back to me.

Fuck, I’ve embarrassed her. Not at all what I intended to do. That assumes I had an intention to begin with, which I obviously didn’t. No, I was all prowler, letting feral instinct drive me.

I’m an idiot. Certifiable.

While she gathers up her backpack, I stuff my hands in my front pockets and take the opportunity to rearrange myself.

She turns and looks up at me with a plea in those big, beautiful eyes. “Please don’t tell my brother about today or about the, um ...”

I shake my head. “Never.” I want to add that I don’t kiss and tell, but that strikes me as classless, and Jackie deserves so much more than a comment like that from a jackass like me.

She lets me help her off the Gail, and while I relish the sensation of her small hand in mine, I don’t let the touch linger beyond the polite zone, no matter how much I want to push beyond that boundary. When I offer to walk her to her junker of a Jeep, she refuses. Yeah, she wants to get away from me.

I watch helplessly as she hurries to her vehicle, hops in, and drives off, all the while telling myself the girl is all wrong for me. Or I’m all wrong for her. We’re wrong for each other. Not only am I not looking for anything beyond casual—and my brain will never confuse Jackie with casual—but she’s my fucking teammate’s sister. The teammate who hates my guts and has the power to see me booted from a team I want to stick with. If he knew I touched her, he wouldn’t hesitate to swing his stick and crack my head open like a ripe watermelon. And no one, including me and the rest of the guys on the team, would fault him for it.

That night I visit one of the haunts in Atlantic Beach, looking to blow off a little steam. The town’s a convenient fifteen-minute drive away, and it’s filled with lots of happening beach bars that attract pretty tourists looking for a good time. It’s also far enough from the marina that I don’t have to worry about a hookup knowing where to find me and mess with my sanctuary.

Funny how having Jackie on my boat today didn’t feel like an invasion of said sanctuary. No, her presence had the opposite effect on me. She added something I can’t put my finger on, but it filled me with a warm calm I haven’t experienced around a woman in forever—if ever.

Part of me hopes Jackie didn’t leave town and I’ll run into her there, but that’s a pipe dream, and I know it. Even if I did bump into her, she’d head for the hills. The other part of me … well, that’s my baser side, which is on a mission to find someone to distract my single-minded thoughts from that mind-blowing kiss and the woman who delivered it.

There are lots of choices tonight, and soon I’m buying a couple of women drinks and pretending to participate in their small talk. They’re visiting from the Midwest and leave in a few days, like I will when the All-Star break is over and I’m back on the ice. This is the perfect setup, especially since the perky bleached-blond one of the pair has taken a liking to me. She leans in frequently and places her hand on my arm or my shoulder. I catch whiffs of a spicy floral fragrance, and while it’s nice, it’s not as pleasant as Jackie’s subtler scent. After a few drinks, she’s acting even friendlier, and she whispers in my ear while her hand rests on my thigh. Yep, she’s signaling green lights all the way, and I don’t miss them.

Soon we’re grinding on the dance floor, and I’m confident this is headed in the direction I mean for it to go. I convince myself I’m having a good time and that I’m looking forward to later tonight when I’ll be invited to an even better time.

Too bad my body isn’t on board.

The blond plasters herself against me on the dance floor, and we share a kiss. It’s hot—or it should be, but my body balks and tells me this kiss isn’t anywhere close to the one that got it revved earlier today. In fact, this version is so far off it may as well be on the other side of the continent, bobbing in the cold waters of the Pacific.

We break apart, and it’s apparent she enjoyed the exchange way more than I did. We stroll back to the table, and she takes my hand in hers, but it’s all wrong … because it doesn’t belong to the right woman.

What the fuck is the matter with me? Why can’t I get out of my head?

Before long, I’m weaving a tale about needing to get home because my disabled sister needs my help. My would-be distraction’s disappointment shows in her expression, so I accept her number when she hands it to me and tell her I’ll call before she leaves on Sunday. I won’t. Guilt is a bitch I can’t escape, and I leave a stack of bills with the server so the girls can keep partying on my dime.

A breath of relief punches from my lungs as I slide behind the steering wheel of my truck. Pretty sure I dodged a bullet—one I loaded myself into my own metaphorical gun.

I end my night by texting Jackie to make sure she got home all right. The first smile I’ve cracked since she left the marina tugs my mouth when she immediately sends a snarky reply about overprotective assholes—my words, not hers—and adds a cheesy-smile emoji at the end. It’s totally ridiculous, but my grin only widens.

Chapter 12

Two in One

Jackie

Sunday around noon, Donny finally makes an appearance. For the last two days, I’ve been preparing myself for his questions, ready with some half-truths about where I was and what I did. Strolled around and looked at boats. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. But he doesn’t ask. Instead, he shoots me a sheepish look, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s been bracing himself for my questions. Like where he’s been shacked up the past five days and with whom. God, I hope there isn’t more than one whom, but I truly don’t want to know. There are some things siblings should keep to themselves, and this is one of them.

Honestly, I was relieved to find the condo empty when I returned Friday night. Peace and quiet were what I needed so I could wrap my head around what happened on Colby’s boat. Not only the kiss that makes my body’s every nook and cranny tingle each time I relive it, but the way being around him made me feel safe yet free to be me, neither of which I experienced during the seven months I was with Royal. That gaping difference between a man I don’t know and a man I thought I knew makes no sense.

Not that it matters because Colby and I are not happening. I have no business jumping into another relationship to begin with—not until I can be a better judge of character and I’ve rebuilt my trust fortifications. I need to protect myself against men and my own bad judgment. Being attracted to my brother’s teammate whom he’s sworn a blood oath to eliminate shows just how far my character judgment skills have skewed—assuming I ever had any to begin with.

Slight exaggeration about the blood oath, but Donny would be disappointed in me if he knew whose lips were stuck to mine two days ago, and I’m not sure I can take more disappointment from my little brother. I’ve seen enough of it written on every inch of his stubbled face before.

“Dude, you need a shave,” I remark.

He runs his hand over his face, and I swear there’s a grin hiding under his fingers. I don’t even want to guess what that’s about. Maybe I’m a little jealous that someone in this home is getting action, and that someone isn’t me.