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Someone comes up behind me and claps my back. "You were amazing, Stone."
I ignore them and keep walking, Tiny in the lead.
Where could she be? If she’s waiting for a pick-up, then— I break into a run toward the area where cars pick up and drop off people. Past more people who stop and gape. Past the bicycle parking space, more security check-points, toward the drop-off points, and there she is. I slow down, but don’t stop until I’m a few feet from her. That’s when she turns, spots me, and in the light that pours down on us from the streetlamp, I see her pale.
"You…" She swallows. "What are you doing here?"
70
Gio
"What do you think I’m doing here?" He comes to a stop in front of me. Tiny ambles forward and plants himself on his haunches between us. I reach forward and rub his big head, and he looks at me with adoring eyes. My heart melts a little.
“Look at me, Goldie,” Rick orders.
I shake my head and continue to pet Tiny.
“Goldie. Look. At. Me.” Rick lowers his voice to a hush and goosebumps flutter over my skin. Before I can stop myself, I lower my hand and tilt my head back, and further back, to see his face.
In the lengthening shadows, he seems bigger, taller, broader—and not only because he still has shoulder pads on under the jersey. I refuse to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the cords of his neck that stand out in relief, the width of his chest which seems to have expanded until it’s twice the size it was, down to where his thigh muscles are so tense, they strain the hockey pants he’s wearing. His legs are braced apart, and I’m aware the bulge in between his thighs is caused by his jockstrap—yet, I can vouch that when he’s aroused, it looks bigger.
"Remembering how my cock feels inside of you?" he growls.
I blush to the roots of my hair and jerk my chin up. His cerulean blues bore into me, and I take a step back. He moves toward me, and I throw up my hands. "Stop, please."
He does. But every inch of his body is wound up like he's spring-loaded. Waves of tension vibrate off of him.
"Where are you going?" His voice is hushed, but the tone feels like a whip-lash across my skin that's sensitized to his every mood.
"You know where." I look away, unable to see the truth in his eyes. That he knows exactly why I’m standing here.
The breeze blows a strand of hair in my face, and I tuck it behind my ear.
Tiny looks between us, his body on alert. He, too, senses the tension in the air.
For a few seconds, we stand there, not talking. The sounds of the crowd cheering reach us. Footsteps approach, then stop. I don’t dare look past him. I’m sure we’re making a spectacle of ourselves, sure there are paps around who’re going to photograph us together, and yet… I can’t bring myself to turn my back on him.
This might be the last time I see his beautiful face, take in the solidity of his presence, and sense that shiver of security that sinks into my bones whenever I'm in his presence. I'll never again feel my heart expand with those sensations that crowd my chest only when I see him. I’ll never feel this way with anyone else. Never, has my breath stuck in my throat or my stomach fluttered at the thought of anyone. I'll never need to squeeze my thighs together at the thought of someone else. Only him. I’ll never fall in love again. The only man who’ll make me feel like this is him. And he betrayed me. He doesn’t care for me. He can’t, not after what he did to me.
"I need to leave," I choke out.
"No," he growls.
"You don’t have a say in what I do. You lost that privilege when you made me fall in love with you under false pretenses. When you knew you were setting me up, just so you could break my heart."
"I’m sorry, Goldie. I know, however much I apologize, it won’t be enough to right what I’ve done, but you can’t leave me. You can’t." His voice cracks and the anguish I hear… The expression in his eyes is so intense that it hits me square in the chest. My heart stutters, I feel something inside of me begin to give in, inch by inch, and—
I shake my head.I can’t do this. I can’t forgive him. Not after how he hurt me. How can I trust him again, knowing he’d purposely set out to destroy me?
"Do you know why I left the NHL?"
I shake my head.
"It was in the finals of the Cup that I found out that Diana had committed suicide. She was nineteen, only a year younger to me, but I’d been her protector. Her big brother. I should have been in L.A. with her, looking out for her, but I was too busy building my career. I got the news during half-time."
"Oh, my god, Rick." I cover my mouth with my palms.
He hasn’t told this to anyone. It’s not in his PR file, not in any news story. He’s choosing to share it with me because he wants to show me he trusts me. And I want to take that step toward him, I want to meet him halfway, want to close the distance to him and throw myself in his arms and comfort him, but something inside me doesn’t let me. So, I stand there and watch the man I love hunch his shoulders. He closes his eyes and swallows, and when he opens his eyelids, a tear rolls down his cheek.
