Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
And I hated myself more in that moment than I ever had in my entire fucking life.
Because I was just counting down the minutes before I could leave.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
I knew the answer, I just didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want to be controlled and ruled by tragedy, by trauma, by a physical response to intimacy that I had no goddamn power over.
This was why I’d drawn boundaries. This was what I’d been afraid of.
And yet, I’d broken my own rules. I’d been just as guilty in this as Chloe was.
Maybe more so.
And here we were, silence stretching between us, lines blurred, hearts too involved.
“I’m going to head in,” I said, my voice a low croak as I maneuvered her off my arm.
I sat up, but before I could stand, Chloe’s hand wrapped around my forearm.
I stilled, taking a calming breath before I glanced over my shoulder at her.
“Will,” she breathed. “Don’t you… can’t you stay?”
Fuck.
I closed my eyes, nostrils flaring, trying to reach for that part of me that had opened to her. I tried to stay open, willed myself to be calm and kind and understanding. I willed myself to do what she asked, tried to convince myself how I would love it, too.
But it was like a monster breaking free from the flimsy cage that held it at bay, like I was being taken over against my will. I felt it happening, and yet I was powerless to stop it.
The doors slammed shut.
The walls grew tall, lined with barbed wire.
The monster roared.
It didn’t even feel like me as the scowl slid into place, as my jaw hardened, the muscle beneath it popping against my skin.
I met her gaze. “Are you sure you’re still okay with this?”
It was as if I’d slapped her.
Her head snapped back, lips parting before she zipped them shut again. She swallowed, her eyes dropping from mine in shame at the same time she released my arm.
I thrashed against the monster, wanting to reach for her, to apologize instantly.
But I was a prisoner inside my own soul.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m fine, I just… I don’t know, I’m being silly.” She gave a pathetic excuse for a smile, waving me off as her eyes glossed. “Go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hurried off the bed without letting me see her face again, ducking inside the bathroom.
And the monster dragged me out of her sheets in a numb daze, hauling across the back yard until he could lock me in my castle once more.
This time, it felt like he threw away the key.
You Good?
Will
April came like Christmas, like a holiday that always seems so far away only to surprise you with its arrival as if it happened quickly and unexpectedly.
Eight games.
We had eight games left until the playoffs.
The pressure was so high, the tension thicker than I’d ever felt.
Coach was strung out, his usual cool façade interrupted by bursts of outrage when we fucked up in practice.
Aleks was focused on the ice, but was up to his usual shenanigans off the ice — which meant our PR team was busy cleaning up after him nearly every week when we were trying to focus on the games ahead.
Vince and Jaxson were wound just as tight as I was, the three of us trying to wrangle the team into one that could win the whole thing.
There was no question on whether or not we’d make it to the playoffs now. We were in.
We’d have a chance to fight for the Cup.
Now, it was about staying healthy, finishing strong, and securing our spot as top seed. That meant home ice advantage for four games instead of three in the seven-game series that made up the playoffs. Playing on our own ice, having our home crowd cheering for us — it meant everything. It could be the difference between winning it all and going home in the first round.
For so long, I’d worked with this team for this exact moment. Years and years of building, working hard, making adjustments. Finally, we just… clicked. We had the right players. We had the momentum. We had the energy, the drive, the luck.
And my focus was fucking shot.
When I was at the rink, I was there. I was in it. I was with my team, all my awareness on the goal I protected, on the players I was trying to lead to our first championship in decades.
But instead of that focus coming with me when I went home, it evaporated instantly the moment I crossed the threshold.
Because when I was home, everything revolved around Chloe.
Chloe, who had twisted me up so fiercely I could barely breathe in her presence. Chloe, who had infiltrated my home, my family, my heart. Chloe, who had become close friends with my chef, who had become best friend to my daughter… maybe even more than that.