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"Maybe that’s him," she murmurs.
My heart drops to my stomach.No, no, no I don’t want to see him, not right now. Now when I’m this vulnerable, this open, this broken, this everything I’d never want him to witness.If he looks at me with those piercing blue eyes, I’m going to forget every promise I made to myself, and throw myself at him, and I can’t do that. I can’t, not after the way he decided I was guilty without giving me a chance to defend myself. Not after he told me he holds me responsible for something that's not my fault.It’s not.
There’s another knock on the door. "Goldie, I know you’re in there," he calls out.
"Oh my god, I’m not ready, I’m not."
"Want me to tell him to leave?"
"Yes, no, I don’t know." I glance around the space, then bound toward the bedroom door.
"Where are you going?"
61
Rick
"Gio, if you don’t open the door, I’m going to break it down and—"
The door swings open. The woman who stands before me has her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.
"Mira, sorry about that.” I hold up my hands. “I would've paid to get the door replaced if I'd broken it down."
"Hmm." She looks me up and down. "You here to apologize to her?"
I shuffle my feet. Fact is, I’m not sure why I’m here. All I know is, after I left her in that room, my entire body felt like I was weighed down. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other and move forward. Every inch of space I put between us felt like a mile. Every breath I drew hurt my throat and cut into my chest. Every beat of my heart felt like it was my last. Every muscle seized up and refused to cooperate with me.
My mind told me I had to keep going, my body refused to comply, and my heart? My heart felt like someone had reached into my chest, ripped it out, stomped on it, and left it laying on the floor at her feet. That someone would be me.
I haven't felt this fractured since I got the phone call about Diana and realized I’d failed in my duties as a brother.
I managed to head to the locker room and clean up, then walked out to the team bus, which was waiting to take us to a bar to celebrate tonight’s win. Only halfway there, I jumped up and told the driver to pull over. My teammates thought I was losing it. Only Finn realized something was wrong. He must have read something in my expression because he asked me if I’d broken up with Gio.
Wham, just like that—hearing him say the words aloud, the blood drained from my face. My breath came in pants, and it felt like my heart—which I honestly thought I'd left behind—was trying to cleave its way out of my chest. He handed me a bottle of water, made sure I drank it, then asked me what I was going to do about it.
When I was stumped, he pointed out I had to make things right. And he was right. Once I’d taken a few sips of the water, he took the bottle from me, then urged me to get off the bus and go to her.
I tried to call her, but it went to voice mail. I was sure she wouldn’t go to the house; she wouldn’t want to see me. I called Edward next, and he told me he’d dropped her off at Mira’s place. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head, pulled on my sunglasses, then flagged down a cab and high-tailed it to her place.
I shouldn’t have worried about being recognized, though. The cab driver was a cricket fan and gave me an earful of how Cade is the best captain the English team has ever had. Not that I begrudge Cade his fame. Ice hockey has its share of fans, and the media loves to write about us, but the game has yet to catch up with cricket and footie when it comes to popularity in this country. The drive gave me the chance to gather my thoughts, and by the time I reached Mira’s apartment, I knew what I had to do.
"I want to put things right with her," I admit to her.
She folds her arms about her chest. Her features are set in hard lines. "I don’t think she wants to see you."
I look past her but can’t see Goldie in the living room. It feels like a freight truck rammed into me. I sway and have to grab the frame of her door to stay upright. Fucking hell, I can face down a hockey team of six-foot five-inch men who each weigh more than 200 pounds, but the thought of not being able to see her again reduces my knees to pulp. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.
"You okay?" Mira frowns.
I’m not okay. I don’t think I ever will be. Not until I can explain things to her; not until I put things right with her somehow.I shake my head. "Can I come in?" I manage to say through gritted teeth.
She glances over her shoulder, then back at me. "Umm, I’m not quite sure."
"Please, I need to talk to her, is all. Ihaveto talk to her. You understand, right?"
"Why do you want to talk to her?"
"Because I said and did things that hurt her, and it hurt me so much more."
