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I skim her cheek with my fingers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“So are you.” Her lips brush the tip of my erection. “Let me make you feel better.”

I give myself over to the sensations and stop trying to find a way out of the pit I’m in. It’s better this way. I’m saving her from a lifetime of misery. She’ll realize eventually what I already know: I can’t be what she needs. But I can do sex. I’m good at it. I love giving her orgasms, making her feel good. But I’m hopeless at feelings, and I’m sure as hell not good at love.

She takes me in her mouth, but I can’t handle her gorgeous, guileless eyes. So I pull her up and bend her over the counter. I can’t look at her perfect face. Can’t have her eyes on mine. Can’t let her see the truth. The entire time, I try to convince myself that she’ll be better off without me. That I don’t want to wake up beside her every day. That I won’t miss the sound of her voice, or the feel of her body against mine when I hold her. That I’m fine without her smiles and her laughter and the smell of her citrus and vanilla shampoo.

But based on the nearly debilitating pain in my chest, I won’t be fine without her, and that scares the living shit out of me. She has all the power, and I already know how much it hurts when someone I love leaves. This will be so much worse. Especially if I don’t end things now, before she’s in as deep as me.

Afterward, we make dinner. I’m on autopilot, not really hearing anything she’s saying. I don’t taste the food as I chew and swallow. My head is all over the place. My chest is tight, and I keep thinking about the look on Nate’s face when he told me Lisa broke up with him. He’s devastated. Broken. I’ll be the same when it happens to me and Bea—worse probably, based on the way I already feel.

I help Bea clean up, and when the last dish is put away, there’s nothing left to do. I fold the dish towel and set it on the counter. “I don’t think I can do this with you anymore.”

Bea closes the cupboard door and turns to face me. “Do what?”

“This.” I motion between the two of us. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“I don’t understand,” she says softly.

I can’t be what she needs long term. Not when I don’t even know where I’ll be next year. What if I get traded? What if she wants to stay in Toronto? Flip is here, and she has friends. Her parents are a few hours away by car. Most of the people she cares about are here, apart from Essie. My job might be financially stable, but I’m gone half the time. What if what happened to Nate happens to us? I’m an asshole, the probability is high.

“My contract with Toronto is up at the end of the season. It’s anyone’s guess where I’ll end up.” Hollis is having a kickass season. Anything could happen. What if I get signed by Arizona or California? We’d hardly see each other. It’s hard enough to deal with away games now; being hours away by plane would be unbearable. My mind spins faster and faster.

She props her hips against the counter, expression reflecting her confusion. “But they might renew your contract. You’re having a great season. Hollis being back doesn’t change that.”

Being in love with her won’t stop her from leaving me eventually. Because Nate is right: this hollow ache in my chest, this rising panic, it’s all the feelings I’ve been trying to avoid. Roman saw it, fucking Hollis saw, Ashish saw it, and here I am, the last fucking one to figure it out. Walking away now will wreck me, but if I stick around it’ll be worse when the inevitable happens and she decides she’s done. She’ll meet someone better for her. Someone stable, easygoing, someone who can be there to take care of her like she deserves. She deserves flowers and date nights and someone who will tell her every fucking day how special she is.

My stomach continues to roil. The nausea is almost unbearable. “Hollis is having a great season. He’s got one more year on his contract, and I don’t. I have no idea what next year will look like. I’m probably going to move, and you just got settled in a new job.”

She crosses her arms. “We have months before that’s an issue.”

“But it’s going to be an issue eventually, Bea. It’s just a matter of when. We’re not a good fit.” I run a hand through my hair. There are so many things I wish I could say, but all those words are frozen in my mouth. So I tell her the one truth I can. “I can’t open up the way you’ll need me to in a relationship. I’m going to let you down, Bea. I can’t be what you need. We were having a good time, but we should just call it now. Before either one of us gets hurt.”

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