The picture he was getting suggested no one had ever fought for her, and that made him sick to his stomach. He fought every urge to reach out and pull her to him. He didn’t care what they did together, he just wanted to be with her, seeing her smile, interact with her kids, being with her made him feel better.
All he needed to do was figure out how to return the favor and earn her forgiveness for breaking her heart all those years ago.
Chapter 7
Elliott
Elliott: I’m really sorry, Clare. I can’t help you right now.
She hadn’t asked him for much, just for him to pick up Mason from school, take him home to grab his gear, then over to the rink for hockey practice. But as much as he wished he could, Elliott couldn’t drop things at a moment’s notice and step up to help her. Pressing “send” was hard. His gut twisted. But it was what it was. He just couldn’t help her.
Sitting in IHOP waiting for a late-as-usual Denise to show up for some life-or-death, urgent meeting that sheabsolutelyneeded to happen. He was pissed. He’d rescheduled visiting Mom at the nursing home for the second time in a week, and while he felt bad for saying no to Clare, he had his own shit going on.
Clare had confided in him that she’d lost most of her friends in the divorce, her parents were retiring to Florida before the end of the year so they wouldn’t be able to help out with the kids or her busy, single, hockey mom life for much longer, and her ex was an unreliable asshole who seemed intent on deliberately making her life harder. According to her, his family wasn’t much better, either.
Having spoken at length with her parents, he knew that meant her life was scheduled down to the hour, some days even the minute, and it didn’t allow for getting stuck at work, getting a flat tire, or even taking a long bath. There was no room for spontaneity, or the unexpected. She took care of her business and kept all the plates spinning. He had no idea how she did it all.
Clare: It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.
Ouch. Shots fired, yet again. Clare Reynold’s passive aggression was a thing of legend. The subtext was that he was just another person to let her down when she needed someone. That he’d let her down again. He didn’t remember her being quite so unreasonable, however.
Sure, she was stuck at work, dealing with some kind of medical billing emergency and needed help. But maybe if she’d given enough of a crap to ask, he’d have told her that he was trying to balance a money-grabbing ex, a sick mother, and a team that were hopefully past the cutting teeth phase of their season.
His life wasn’t exactly a cakewalk either.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he stared at Clare’s reply. “Lio.” Denise took her seat across the booth from him as he cringed. He hated the nickname, and she knew it. That probably should have been his first clue that the relationship was doomed from the get-go—she was never one to make any kind of allowance or respect his boundaries.
“Thanks for coming. Tim is going to Outdoor World and circling back to pick me up, so I’ll make this quick.”
Fucking her boss didn’t exactly help matters either. Grinding his teeth to stop a caustic reply from escaping his lips, he grunted.
“I need to refinance the house. And I can’t do that with your name on it. I need for you to sign these papers so I can move forward okay?”
He accepted the manila envelope across the table and tapped it against his palm. “And you couldn’t have just dropped this off at the house, or the rink? You had to drag me across town to hand me an envelope?”
She shrugged and her cheeks turned pink. Why did everything have to be overly complicated with the woman? Was it all a power play for her?
Her phone lit up on the table. “That’s Tim. He’s outside.”
“So when you said it was life-or-death and you needed to talk to me over coffee, what youactuallymeant was you needed to hand me an envelope?”
“I—”
He held up a hand. “Just go, Dee. I don’t want to hear it.”
She huffed, her facing turning a darker shade of red, and folded her arms. “Don’t be like that, Lio.”
“Stop calling me that,” he ground out through still-gritted teeth, his temples pulsing.
Leaning forward, she gripped his forearm. “Sorry. Hard to break the habit of a lifetime, right?” A nasal giggle fell heavily between them. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?” If he stared any harder at the coffee cup next to his arm, he’d pierce a hole in it. Her hand was still on his arm and she squeezed.
“Can’t a girl just want to see her ex?” She pulled her arm back, flicking her hand like it was a totally normal request. Her phone lit up again. “I really need to go.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I don’t like to keep him waiting.”
But she didn’t mind hauling Elliott across town for no fucking reason. Hecouldbe visiting with Mom, hecouldbe helping Clare out with Mason, hell, he could be sitting balls-out on the sofa watching porn for fuck’s sake. But instead, he was sitting drinking luke-warm coffee and being driven insane by the smell of pancakes he thought he’d be having for dinner with his ex.
He shuddered. She stood.
