Where We Belong (Carolina Rebels Book 8)

by Lindsay Paige

  “Is there anything between you and Collin?” she asks curiously.

  My mouth moves with a stutter of an answer, causing Deanna to laugh.

  “Sorry. You don’t have to finish answering me. Some of the spouses I’m around are kind of nosy, so I didn’t think before I asked.”

  Thank goodness because I’m not sure how to answer that question right now. What I do learn about Deanna on our way to Florida is what she does for a living, more about the other spouses of some of Collin’s teammates, and how she and Brayden met. The longer I spend time with her, the more comfortable I become. I tell her more about my friendship with Collin and even that I used to date Cal.

  After picking up my car, we go to a local Japanese restaurant I never go to for something to eat. My phone rings.

  “Hey, Collin,” I answer.

  “You didn’t tell me you landed. Is everything going okay?” There’s an edge in his voice, which has me worried.

  “Yeah. We’re grabbing something to eat before we go back to my apartment to pack. How are you doing today?” I ask.

  “Not too good,” he admits. His voice lowers. “Just took something to help calm me down, so hopefully that’ll help. How’s your eye?”

  “Black.”

  Collin laughs. “I figured as much.”

  “I’m okay. Deanna is over here trying to be my new best friend,” I say since she’s subtly watching and listening. Collin chuckles. “I’m not too sure about her, though.” Deanna laughs.

  “She’s good, Jules. I wouldn’t have let her go with you if I thought she was a bad person.”

  “I know. You relax and we’ll talk later, okay? Have a good game tonight, too.”

  “Thanks.”

  We hang up and I apologize to Deanna for being on the phone while we’re at the table.

  “Oh, don’t worry. Sometimes, you just have to answer; I understand. Collin said something about how we might visit your parents. Are you planning to do that?”

  Ugh. “They don’t know I’m here, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.” It may be February, but it’s way warmer here in south Florida than it was in North Carolina. This hoodie has to go; I’ve been sweating for the past five minutes as it is and I can’t take it anymore. I motion to my face and arms. “I don’t really want to have to explain this to them.”

  “Oh, Julie,” she whispers, her eyes on my arms. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. No wonder Collin didn’t want you to be alone.”

  Can I just say that I love she didn’t ask what happened or who did this? I relax in my seat, knowing that this trip will go just fine where she is concerned. I might even have a friend by the time I return to North Carolina. If only I can hurry and get back so I can stop looking over my shoulder every five seconds.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when my skates hit the ice for my first shift of the night. Hockey has always been an outlet. It’s a way to escape from my reality with anxiety and to work off the nerves. That probably doesn’t make sense, but it does to me. Playing the game calms me down. It sends those nerves straight to hell so I can relax. It hasn’t been like that lately, but tonight, it’s like old times.

  The panic from the past few days drains from my body with each stride down the ice. Passes to my brother are what reporters like to call magical and uncanny. But I love that when I make the pass, the puck actually goes to him and not the New York opponent. It’s the simple things in life. Even the air in the arena seems to cleanse my lungs with every breath.

  Everything seems to work for me in this game. My passes are complete. My energy level stays high. I even score a goal and get myself an assist. But something seems to change as the night winds down. It’s like I’m at war with myself. I’m full of anxiety, yet I’m not. I’m on edge, yet I’m calm.

  Cal throws an arm over my shoulder. “Want to check out the scenery? Grab something to eat?” he asks. We’re not leaving until tomorrow, so we can go out and explore a little if we want.

  I have no urge to open my mouth and respond to him verbally. Instead, I shake my head.

  “You had a good game tonight.” He continues walking toward the elevators with me.

  I don’t respond. I wish he wouldn’t give me pats on the back like that. It makes me feel weak and pathetic that he feels as if he has to build me up and reassure me. It hasn’t always been like that, but ever since my anxiety has trickled into my hockey life, he does things like this.

  When I make it to my hotel room, I think about texting Julie to check in on her, but decide against it. If she spent the day packing, she’s probably tired. I don’t want to talk even through text either.

  This weird restlessness stays with me as we travel. I dodge Julie’s calls, but she texts me instead and those I answer, if only so she doesn’t worry. She and Deanna drove home from Florida yesterday and she’s working on unpacking today. If she isn’t texting me about that, I’m getting pictures of the damn cat. Julie is having too much fun with Marmalade. Maybe if she moves out, she’ll take the cat with her.

  “What’s going on with you?” Brayden asks as we stretch during warm-ups on the ice.

  It’s hard to stay as silent as I wish when people keep talking to me and ask questions that require more than a simple nod or shake of the head. I take a deep breath to gather the energy and will to answer him.

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Feeling okay?”

  I nod, but he frowns. He leaves me alone and that’s good enough for me. When we’re on the bench after the first puck drop, I’m asked again if I feel okay. This time by Cal. He pointedly looks down at my legs, which are bouncing up and down. Leave it to my brother to notice a physical display of my anxiety. I nod that I’m fine and he frowns just like Brayden did.

  Being on the ice doesn’t calm me in the least today. My name should be Turnover Kessy. Or maybe Fucked Up Kessy. I certainly can’t do anything right. My passes are sloppy. My legs move slower than they should. I’m lagging behind everyone like in a nightmare where you want to run as fast as you can, but for some reason, you’re moving slower than a sloth. And do I have a bullseye on my back? Why the fuck do I keep getting hit? I can expect a few here and there, but this is getting out of hand.

  Cal speaks to me between shifts, but his words bounce right off me. Whatever he’s saying isn’t important. Focusing on this game is important. Playing better than the shit I’m currently playing is important. Nothing else matters.

  And then, it almost happens. It’s late in the third and we’re tied at one. People stand in all different places around Savage and his blue paint. I’m to his left when the puck comes this way. It hits my skate and with horror, I watch it move in slow motion between the post and his skate, inching closer and closer to the red line.

  No, this cannot happen to me again.

  Savage realizes what’s happening just as I reach out with my stick to attempt to bring it back toward me. He brings his arm back and covers the puck with his glove to get the whistle. The relief I expect to feel doesn’t exist. I’m pissed the fuck off. Why does this shit keep happening to me? Why do I keep fucking up on the ice? I slam my stick against the boards and shove my brother away when he gets too close to me. All he will do is say shit I don’t want to hear.

  When I get back on the bench, Coach Mike grabs my shoulder and leans down. Before he can ask, I bark, “I’m fucking fine!” and yank my shoulder out of his hold. He probably doesn’t believe me because I don’t make it back on the ice, even when the game goes into overtime. That actually gives me relief. I can’t mess up things for my team if I’m not on the ice.

  Cal gives me some space afterward, thankfully, but I don’t know what to feel when for our last road game, I discover I’m a healthy scratch. Should I be relieved? Or worried that my anxiety is about to get me kicked off the team? How did I get here? To where I’m watching Cal play without me? My entire team is down on the ice while I’m watching and it’s because my coach doesn’t have faith that I can play witho
ut screwing my team over.

  This is the beginning of the end. First, I’m a healthy scratch. Then, they’ll want me to take a maintenance day. After that, they’ll have it all figured out on how they can legally kick me off the team.

  I should enjoy what time I have left, I guess.

  “You’ve been quiet. Too quiet,” Cal says as we walk toward our apartment doors.

  I shrug. I still don’t feel the need to speak.

  “I’m worried, Collin.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you keep saying, but I’m having a hard time believing you.”

  We’ve reached our apartments now. I don’t know what he wants from me, but he obviously isn’t going to get it. I turn away from him and insert a key into the lock. Cal gets the message and does the same. I spot Julie within seconds of entering my apartment, but Marmalade greets me first, rubbing against my legs as I close and lock the door.

  Julie leaves the kitchen to rush over and hug me. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “What? You miss me?”

  She laughs. “Of course I did. I’m fixing chicken Alfredo for lunch. Maybe you should put your things away and make sure I haven’t completely taken over your bedroom.” Her smile wobbles with worry.

  Instead of responding, I kiss her temple and walk away from her. Her things are everywhere. It’s almost overwhelming to see my apartment populated with things that are not mine, to realize that I no longer live alone. While I like that Julie is here, right this very second, I wish she wasn’t. All I want to do is fall face forward on my bed, cover my head with a pillow, and lie there until I decide to get up. Something tells me Julie will not accept that behavior.

  I toss my bag near my closet, take a deep breath, and return to the kitchen where Julie places two plates on the bar. We sit down and begin to eat.

  “I’ve been applying for jobs,” Julie tells me.

  “That’s good.”

  “How—”

  I hold up my hand. “If you’re about to ask me how I’m doing, don’t. I’m tired of that question.” For the first time since we sat down, I look over at her. She seems worried now, but she nods. “Do you feel good about the move and everything? What did your parents say?”

  Julie talks and I’m sure I hear what she says, but I don’t process her words. I mostly asked so I wouldn’t have to talk anyway. But then, Julie finishes her recap and asks me a question.

  “You have the next week off, right? What are you going to do with your time?”

  “Stay home. Some of the guys are going on vacation, but I’m not unnecessarily traveling during the season, even for vacation.” Plus, I promised her a date. If this world loves me at all, I’ll have enough energy and be in a decent enough mood to take her somewhere and make it enjoyable.

  As we finish off our meal, she reaches over and rests her hand on my leg. “Do you know what I think we should do?”

  Oh, fuck. I don’t want to do anything.

  “Be completely lazy today,” she says.

  I grin and lean over to kiss her softly. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  Julie puts the dishes away while I sit on the couch. Marmalade sits on the back of the recliner and watches me with careful eyes. The fucking cat acts like he’s the king of my apartment. As if the top of the recliner is his throne where he overlooks the kingdom of the living room, and Julie and I are his lowly subjects.

  “Why are you glaring at Marmalade?” Julie asks with a laugh as she sits down next to me.

  “Look at him. He’s acting as if he owns this place. Maybe I should bring Otis over here. He might hate cats and decide to eat him.”

  Julie laughs as she backhands my stomach. “That’s mean!”

  “What’s mean is a cat deciding to intrude in my home.”

  Julie chuckles as she shakes her head at me, but it makes me smile. My first true smile of the day. Julie takes control of the remote and for the rest of the day, we watch movies in blissful silence. She slowly moves closer and closer to me. Soon, we touch from shoulders down to our hips and down to our knees. I crack a smile when she not-so-casually yawns and lifts my arm to rest over her shoulders and dangle down her chest. She cuddles into my side.

  “You’ve been quiet today,” Julie comments that evening.

  “Just that kind of day.”

  The best thing about Julie? She accepts this answer. She doesn’t press for more. She doesn’t complain or ask why. She doesn’t try to change this fact. She simply accepts what’s true and leaves it be. Now, she does say something, but I like what she says.

  “If you need space or quiet or if I end up talking too much, tell me. I’d rather you tell me what you need than you be miserable or something.”

  “You’re fine, Jules.” She rests against me and I add, “For now,” causing her to laugh.

  I get up to feed Marmalade who whines like a baby when it’s time for him to be fed. I often wonder who he whined to before he lived with me. If he lived on the street, did he still meow incessantly until he found food? When I return to the living room, Julie sits with her legs criss-crossed in front of her and a contemplating expression on her face.

  “Do you think it’ll feel odd to go on our date?” she asks as I sit next to her.

  “Odd? No,” I reply immediately. “Awkward at times, possibly. But we’ve gone out and done stuff together before. Only difference this time is we’re calling it a date, I’ll hold your hand, and there will be at least one kiss.”

  She reaches over to hold my hand in hers, resting them on her thigh, and smiles. “At least one?”

  “Definitely.”

  “What if I want one now?”

  I don’t even get the chance to lean toward her before my phone rings. One look shows it’s a call from Cal. For a second, I debate not answering. But if I don’t, he’ll only knock on my door and bother me that way.

  “Hey,” I answer.

  “I can’t remember. Are you taking me to the airport in the morning or am I using one of those car services?” he asks. Cal is one of those going on vacation.

  “What time do you have to be at the airport?”

  “Four thirty.”

  “I’m not getting up that early.”

  Cal laughs. “Fair enough. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? Or maybe go down and see Mom and Dad?”

  “Right here is exactly where I want to be. You enjoy your trip. Maybe I’ll pick you up when you get back,” I tell him.

  We talk for another minute or two and then hang up. I set my phone on the end table before facing Julie. Her eyes are back on the movie. That just won’t do.

  “Jules,” I quietly say. She turns her head to look at me. Grasping her chin with two fingers, I lean over and kiss her like I’ve always dreamed of doing, but never have until now.

  A great kiss is something I’ve experienced before, but this touching of lips and tongues with Collin? Kiss is much too small of a word to describe it, and the pleasure coursing through my veins is like nothing I’ve ever felt. Collin and I? We were meant to be. That’s the only explanation I have. Things were certainly never this…this… A moan pours from my throat as he forces me to lie back on the couch. Yeah, it was never like this with Cal. Or anyone else I’ve ever been with.

  My fingers dig into the back of his neck as I hold onto him. Collin props himself up with one hand while killing me slowly. He grazes his fingertips over my collarbone, right above my sternum, and left to right, back and forth, just below my breasts so his knuckles brush across the undersides of my breasts. And I can feel every touch because I’m wearing only a thin sports bra.

  Just when I suck in a breath from the feel of his hand, he kisses me harder. I’ll gladly suffocate if it means kissing Collin until I pass out from lack of oxygen; it’d totally be worth it. A whiny sigh embarrasses me when Collin abandons my mouth for my neck.

  “Jules?” he murmurs against my skin.

  “Don’t tell me you want to
stop.”

  He lifts his head with the smile I’m most familiar with. “I don’t want to rush this.”

  I nearly scoff, but refrain. In a way, it doesn’t feel like rushing when I’ve been waiting so long for this moment. Collin has never led me astray, though. If it almost feels like we’re rushing, then we should slow down.

  His smile falters. “I need you to say something.”

  “You’re also the smartest Kessy I know and I trust you.” I lean up to kiss his cheek. A quick glance at the TV shows the credits rolling for our latest movie. “Let’s watch one more movie and then go to bed.”

  Collin nods, sits up, and pulls me upright with him. Under his own accord, he puts his arm around me, making me smile. Marmalade jumps off of the chair and hops onto Collin’s lap. He stares at Collin for all of three seconds before Collin huffs and pets him. I still don’t think he actually dislikes the cat. And Marmalade obviously loves him.

  We watch that last movie. We cuddle when we go to sleep. Sunday, we wake up and have a repeat of the day before. I’m a bit concerned. Well, I’m wondering if I should be. Even when I visit Collin talks more than he has been. Maybe he’s tired from his trip and has to recharge before he’s back to normal? I could be worrying for nothing, too. He’s still functional. He cooks. He takes care of Marmalade. He told me we’re going on our date.

  The only problem is he’s so quiet. He almost seems to be in another world, sometimes. Like he’s not paying attention to this one at all. The last thing I want to do is bug him about it. We’re on different terms now. Not to mention, I’m currently living with him. No way do I want to overstep or become a nuisance, especially this early on. My plan is to keep a watchful eye on him and if I feel the need to say something, I will. I’ll have to hope that Collin won’t nix me for it.

  Now, it’s Monday and we just left the apartment for our date. Collin hasn’t said where we’re going and I’ve decided not to ask. All I know is casual dress was the way to go. We’re both wearing jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Collin has a hoodie on over his. I’m thankful I brought my jacket. It’s going to be an adjustment living here. It’s not easy going from warm Florida weather to forty degrees in North Carolina.