I swallowed, trying to push past the lump in my throat.Keep it civil, Kinsley.“I’m sorry about yesterday. Seeing you again?—”
“Shocked the hell out of you?” He shook his head, trying to hide his grin. “You’re not the only one.”
I took a sip, trying to keep my composure, but being this close to Jace was challenging; my mind and heart were at war. His blue eyes ensnared me, and every time they caught my gaze, it brought me right back to that night in his bed, when he studied me like I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met.
However, this wasn’t about us. That path had ended for us long ago, and now, my only priority was Anna. That was the whole reason I agreed to see Jace: to get the weight of this secret off my chest. I opened my mouth to tell him, but he cut me off before I could.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, even if I hoped I would.”
Wait, what?The blood in my veins didn’t just chill—it turned to solid ice.“You have a strange way of showing it.” Fury didn’t lace my words like it had at the party. Instead, they were steady, a cold, quiet rage that scared even me. My spine locked into place as I stared Jace down. “After all, you’ve had my number for years.”
Jace’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Let’s not make this into something it isn’t, Jace,” I said. “You wanted to talk, so talk. But let’s make one thing clear—I didn’t come here to reopen any old wounds.”
TWENTY
Old wounds?
What the hell was Kinsley talking about? As I stared out at her across the booth, gone was the girl from my past. Kinsley crossed her arms over her chest. From the flare of her eyes to the purse of her lips, her icy anger felt palpable from the other side of the table; the taste bitter on my tongue.When had she given me her number?I scoured my house when she left, hoping she’d left it somewhere for me to find. But after hours of searching, I gave up, assuming she had no interest in seeing me again.
Kinsley picked up her phone from the table. “I should go. My lunch break is almost over?—”
“No.” Her dark eyes flared to life, and I held out my hands. “Go back to what you said, Kinsley.” She bristled. “Please. When did you give me your number?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose before her eyes darted to the door. Not going to happen. Not when I was so close to the answers I craved. With a resigned sigh, she dropped her gaze to her intertwined fingers. “It doesn’t matter?—”
“It matters to me.”
Kinsley shifted in her seat, refusing to meet my stare. “Three months after we spent the night together.” Her cheeks flushed.“I messaged you through social media because I didn’t have your number.”
“You did?” Random messages always flooded my inbox, from fans to people complaining about my latest game. I ignored them, but if Kinsley had been in there, I would have noticed. Realization crept down my spine. “Fuck, Kins. I didn’t have access to my phone back then.”
“Right,” she scoffed, crossing her arms around her chest. Her dark eyes avoided mine, and, fuck, I needed them, needed to see that vulnerability she rarely showed. She glanced down at her phone. “I should go. This was a mistake.”
“Wait.” I said, reaching out to take her hand. My throat dried up as she paused, unsure what to tell her. Talking about my recovery was a sore subject with anyone, but something about admitting my faults to Kinsley hurt worse. She already looked at me like I was the devil in disguise, and my admission might prove her right. But between letting her walk out the door or flaying myself open, I’d pick the latter every time.
“When I got kicked off the Hawks, I was in a bad place, doing some messed up things. Benny—our team manager—he arranged for me to go to rehab during the off-season. Said it was the only way I’d ever get to play in the majors again.”
Kinsley sucked in a sharp breath, searching my expression. “You-you went to rehab?”
“Sixty days,” I said. “No phones, no internet access. Just a lot of soul-searching and therapy sessions. I had no access to any of my accounts.”
Silence stretched across the table, but the anger receded in Kinsley’s expression, replaced with something a lot more like regret.
“You didn’t know,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes lining with tears. “You didn’t block me?”
“What?” I snapped, clutching her hand a little tighter. She didn’t snatch it away—a win. “Never. I would never have done that to you. Fuck, Kinsley. I’ve thought about you every day for the past two years. Couldn’t get you out of my head. If I had your number? You can bet I would have called you.” Her earlier comment flashed through my mind. “Is that what you thought? That I didn’t want you?”
She nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. I reached out and brushed the first few away with my thumbs. “Kins, you are the only person I’ve wanted in a long time. And if you’re willing to give me another shot, I’d do just about anything to prove it to you.”
She swallowed as she shifted closer to me, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. Just the slightest touch, but enough to make me want more. Thank God I hadn’t fucked everything up between us. Don’t get me wrong—I’d find out who blocked her. My phone should have been sitting in my apartment, not touched by anyone while I was gone. Someone had broken my trust, and I sure as hell would find out who. But at least I hadn’t hurt Kinsley myself. I never would have forgiven myself if that had been the case.
“Jace, there’s something I need to tell you?—”
Kinsley’s words stopped when her phone rang out on the table. She cursed under her breath, “Sorry, it’s most likely work.” But when she read the screen, the color drained from her face. “I, uh—I need to take this.”
I nodded, sitting back as she answered the call, giving only one or two-word answers. It was wrong—but my ears strained to listen in, trying to figure out if it was someone special, a guy she was seeing. She moved her phone to her other hand.No ring—good.A boyfriend was one issue, one I could handle, but a husband would have been a much bigger problem.
