The house was dark and quiet. I stood in the shower until the water ran cold, trying to wash away the memory of that game and of Julian's face when I'd walked away. I couldn’t get theimage out of my head of how he'd looked in the afternoon sun with his dogs around him and that infectious smile.
I wanted that smile directed at me, his hands on me whether they were gentle or rough and if he'd taste as good as he smelled.
You can't keep doing this,my wolf said quietly.
I knew that. Something had to change. I couldn't keep fighting the mating bond and expect to function. But I also couldn't drag Julian into my world without being honest about what that meant.
Eventually, I'd have to tell him the truth and hope he stayed.
FOUR
JULIAN
"You've been fidgety for days." Marshall dropped onto my couch. "We're going out."
"I'm okay."
"You watched dog training videos for four hours yesterday on your day off." He raised an eyebrow. "That's not okay, that's avoidance."
I slammed the lid down on my laptop. "I was doing research for work."
"You've been a dog walker for three years. What could you possibly need to research?"
The truth was, I'd been trying to figure out what I'd done wrong. Renard had looked at me in that park like I mattered, then walked away without a word. It didn't make sense. Usually I could read people, but Renard was a locked door, and I couldn't find the key.
"The Storm has a home game tonight," Marshall continued. "Let's go."
Shoot, no I couldn’t. "Why would we go to a hockey game?"
"Because it's Friday night, you need to get out of this apartment, and tickets are cheap if we don't mind sitting in thenosebleeds." He pulled out his phone. "I'm buying them right now. Say yes or I'm telling Rita you've been timing your park routes to run into goalies."
"That's blackmail."
"It's friendship. Now say yes."
I should have stayed home with my laptop and my dignity intact. Instead, I heard myself say, "Okay. But we're leaving right after."
Marshall grinned. "Deal."
Two hours later, we were wedged into seats so high up I was surprised we didn't need oxygen masks. The arena was packed and the crowd was buzzing with anticipation. I'd been to games before, mostly as a kid, but never really paid attention beyond the basic rules. But since watching videos of Renard, I’d picked up a few things.
Tonight, I couldn't stop watching the goalies, specifically, one goalie.
Renard was easy to spot even from this distance and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him during warm-ups. The pads made him look massive, but I could still see the athlete underneath. His stretches were deliberate and he monitored every practice shot.
"That's him, right?" Marshall elbowed me. "Your park guy?"
"He's not mine."
"Sure. That's why you haven't looked away once since warm-ups started."
The game began, and I tried to take in the speed of the play, the crowd noise and the players moving across the ice. But my attention kept drifting back to the net and to Renard.
But something was wrong. I didn't know enough about hockey to articulate what exactly, but Renard seemed off. He was moving differently than in the highlights I'd watched and hispositioning was wrong. In the first period, he let in a goal on a shot that even I could tell he should have stopped.
The crowd groaned.
"Rough night for the goalie," Marshall observed.
