You Rock My World

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You Rock My World Page 6

by Juliana Stone


  “This wasn’t me,” he said quietly. “I want you to know that.”

  She stared down at his hand on her arm, and the world fell away. Her vision blurred; her heart skipped a beat.

  “We can ask to change foursomes.” His voice penetrated the fog, and she blinked as he came into focus.

  “What?” Her tone was sharp as she yanked her arm from his grasp.

  “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  Now he cared about how she felt? “Me being uncomfortable would indicate that I still have feelings for you.” She looked him right in the eye. “I don’t.”

  He slowly nodded. But wait…was that a hint of a smile hovering around his mouth? Seriously? Heat flushed her cheeks, and she gritted her teeth.

  “If you’d rather golf with friends, let me know,” he said.

  No way was she going to let him get off being the bigger person. No way in hell.

  “I’m golfing with Sidney. I’m good.”

  A shot of adrenaline punched through Ruby. She reached for her sunglasses and plopped them on her nose, waiting a few seconds for her heart to slow down. Then she turned and headed for her cart, looking over her shoulder before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “You and I don’t have to be friends to golf together, Travis. You just need to keep up.” She secured her clubs and climbed inside.

  The horn blew a second time, and she placed both hands on the wheel, gripping it tightly as she waited for the cart in front of her to move forward. Her heart was still beating a mile a minute, and she was pretty sure a sheen of sweat coated every inch of her skin.

  “You okay?” Sidney asked, watching her intently.

  “I’m not sure.”

  The cart in front of them took off, and Ruby headed toward their first hole. The tournament would last about five hours tops. She could do this without getting into a nasty altercation with him. Right?

  “Just don’t kill him,” Sidney whispered as they approached the first hole. God, her best friend knew her better than anyone.

  “I can’t promise that.”

  “And definitely don’t punch him unless he asks for it.”

  “Got it. Only if he asks for it.”

  Sidney climbed out of the cart and leaned against the back end as the men prepared to tee off first. “If you do take a swing, just make sure your aim is good. I’d hate for you to miss and take out his buddy Zach.”

  She arched a questioning eyebrow at her friend.

  Sidney shrugged. “He’s kind of cute.”

  “Seriously?” Ruby tried to keep a straight face.

  “Seriously.”

  “Okay,” Ruby responded, reaching for her glove. “I won’t take out Zach.” She glanced up and caught Travis looking right at her. And she was glad her sunglasses were still firmly in place. No need for him to know he affected more than she wanted…more than he should.

  Considering she didn’t care if the earth opened up and swallowed him whole.

  She settled back in the cart and sighed. It was going to be a hell of a long day.

  Chapter 7

  “She really doesn’t like you.”

  Travis flung his four iron in frustration, having just hit from the rough. The scowl on his face would make most people take a step back, but not his buddy Zach. The guy was looking at him and shaking his head, a half smile gracing his face. “Seriously, doesn’t like you.”

  They were bearing down on the last hole, and Travis was more than happy to put this particular round of golf behind him. Ruby had played the entire day cool and aloof, and he was just about done. He’d take her anger over this. At least when she was angry with him, she acknowledged his existence. But today? They hadn’t exchanged more than a dozen words over the entire eighteen holes, and every single one of them had been indifferent or reserved.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who didn’t like you.”

  “Jesus, Zach. Can you shut the hell up?” Travis scooped up his club and returned to their cart. Up ahead, the girls were approaching the green. Zach followed him and slipped onto his seat. For a few moments, the men watched as Ruby lined up her ball and chipped onto the green with a perfect shot. She turned to Sidney, the smile on her face natural, wide, and open.

  Something inside him loosened, and he had to look away. That smile used to belong to him.

  His gut tightened, thoughts churning as fast and furious as his heart beat inside his chest. How the hell was he ever going to make things right with Ruby when she had no desire to even talk to him?

  “What are you doing here anyway?” Zach asked quietly. “Are you trying to win her back?”

  “No, I……” The denial came fast and sharp. “I…” He swore. “I hate that she hates me. I hate that I did this. I ruined everything.”

  “Did you cheat on her?”

  Travis shook his head, slowly pressing down on the accelerator. As the cart moved forward, Ruby and Sidney watched them from the green.

  “Nah. I did something worse.”

  Zach looked at him and frowned. “What’s worse than cheating?”

  Travis looked at his friend. “It’s complicated.”

  “You know what the problem with a word like complicated is?”

  “Not really, but I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”

  “It’s too broad. It’s like when I’m defending the blue zone, I use my stick, my body, anything I got to create a smokescreen so their guy doesn’t get a chance to shoot at your ass.”

  “Doesn’t always work.”

  “Screw you, Blackwell. I’m trying to have a moment here. I’m just saying complicated is a cop-out. It means there’s shit you need to face.”

  “Trust me. I’m trying.”

  “Try harder.”

  “Thanks, Coach.” He shot an irritated look at Zach.

  “No problem.”

  A crowd was gathered around the eighteenth hole, and he put on his game face as he reached for his putter. These people had paid a lot of money to watch him and a bunch of other so-called celebrities golf, and they didn’t deserve a sourpuss asshole.

  He heard his name shouted several times, along with Zach’s, and the two men nodded and waved before lining up for their final shots. It wasn’t long before the game wrapped, and he made his way over to the crowd, posing for selfies and signing autographs. Ruby had disappeared—probably because of him. But, there were a lot of folks gathered around, many he knew, including his peewee coach, Mr. Hoder. This particular man had meant a lot to Travis, and he hadn’t seen him in years. Hoder was definitely older, with thinning hair and a paunch, but the kind brown eyes and big smile were the same.

  “Mr. H,” Travis said with a wide grin. He bypassed the man’s offer of a handshake and pulled him in for a hug. “Why the hell are you standing here? I could have got you a VIP pass.”

  “I bet you could,” Mr. Hoder said with a chuckle. “But, son, the day I ask for special treatment is the day they roll me down the fairway in a wheelchair.”

  “We both know that day won’t ever come.” Travis stood back, genuinely happy to see the man. “You look real good, Mr. H.”

  “Travis, you’re a grown-ass man in the NHL. You can call me Carl.”

  “Sure.” That wasn’t happening. The man would always be Mr. H to Travis. “You still coaching?”

  “No. The wife came up sick a few years back, and I had to refocus my priorities. She passed in the spring.”

  Travis offered his condolences. Hoder’s wife had been a small, fiery little thing with a love of hockey and a big laugh.

  “So, now I get out to the grandkids’ games in the winter and keep busy with landscaping in the summer.”

  That surprised Travis. “You still working?”

  “My son, Ollie, took over Green Thumb, but I still like to get my hands dirty. Nothing worse than too much time and nothing to do. What about you?”

  Travis was embarrassed to say he couldn’t remember the last time he’d
sunk his hands in dirt and planted something real and alive. He’d worked at Green Thumb all through high school. It was something he loved, and as he stood there, he realized there were a lot of things he’d let fall away from him.

  “Bah,” his coach said gruffly. “You’re a busy man.”

  Not that busy.

  “I’m here for the summer,” he found himself saying. “If you need help with anything, let me know.”

  Mr. Hoder smiled. “I just might take you up on that, Travis. Now go on. There’s a lot of folks who want a piece of you right now.”

  “I’m serious.” He wiggled his thumb and pinky fingers in a phone salute. “Call me.” He gave his old coach one last pat on the back and turned, hearing his named called loudly. A young kid came barreling through the crowd, dressed in Red Wings gear, which was saying something on account of how warm it was. He recognized the shirt. The sight made Travis grin widely, and he welcomed the young boy with open arms.

  “Hey, I was wondering when I’d see you. I’ve been home for almost two weeks.” Travis put the boy down, but as he got a good look at Patrick Bergen, his heart sank. His complexion was pale, the eyes a little too bright, and the puffiness of his features attested to the medications he was taking. Travis knew from experience it was a lot.

  “I had to stay in my room because my mom doesn’t want me to get sick again,” Patrick said with a shrug. “But I’m out now. I got to ride on the golf cart with Wyatt, and he even let me drive it.” Patrick looked over his shoulder and yelled, “Mom. Dad! It’s Travis, from the Red Wings.”

  Travis spied Patrick’s parents, Brad and Gwen, and walked over to them. He shook Brad’s hand warmly and gave Gwen a big hug.

  “Good to see you guys,” he murmured, dropping a kiss to Gwen’s cheek before stepping back. He knew Gwen from his childhood. She’d babysat him and Wyatt at one point when he’d been a kid. And Brad had been a familiar face from the past he’d had no real connection to—he was older, more his brother Hudson’s age—until the previous year.

  Through his brother Wyatt’s efforts, he’d gotten to know the Bergens, but more importantly little Patrick. The kid was special. Travis’s throat tightened. He was damn special.

  “I hear you’re staying for the summer,” Gwen said softly, hand on her young son’s shoulder.

  “You are?” Patrick’s head shot up.

  “I am.”

  “Sweet! Maybe we could go summer skating. That would be like…” Patrick’s face glowed, and his enthusiasm was heartwarming. “That would be awesome.”

  “Sign me up.”

  “Really?” Patrick’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

  “Sure. I need to keep the old muscles working and ready to go in the off-season. What do you say, Zach?” He turned around, but Zach wasn’t there. He spied him a few feet away chatting with Ruby. She was listening attentively to whatever bull crap Zach was saying, and kind of smiling at him in a way Travis didn’t like.

  He frowned and took a step forward.

  “Woah, is that Zach Rogers?” Patrick tugged on Travis’s arm.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think he’ll remember me from last year?”

  The kid’s earnest voice tore his gaze away, and Travis nodded. “I don’t think anyone can forget you, kid.” Travis had brought several of his teammates back to town for a hockey game as a favor to his brother Wyatt. But in the end, Patrick had made it so much more. The boy was seriously ill, and yet his ability to live, really live, touched everyone.

  “Let’s go.”

  Patrick reached for his hand, and a knot formed in Travis’s throat as he took it. He cleared the damn thing, nodded to Brad and Gwen—“I’ll bring him inside”—and they headed over to Zach.

  “Hey,” he said as he approached, eyes on Ruby.

  “Zach, do you remember me?” Patrick blurted, a huge grin on his face.

  Zach gave him a high five. “Sure do, kiddo.”

  “Are you staying the whole summer too?”

  “I’m not sure,” Zach replied with a grin. “Guess that depends.”

  “Travis is taking me summer skating. My mom said I could go.” Patrick paused, his body melted into Travis’s side, his hand still engulfed in Travis’s large one. “Who are you?” he asked, voice curious as he looked up at Ruby.

  “Oh.” Travis straightened a bit. “This is……” His voice died at the look in her eyes. It was there for only a moment, but it was enough. She was still in pain. After all this time.

  She bent down, that sweet scent that was all hers infiltrating the air as she leaned toward Patrick. “I’m Ruby. Nice to meet you.”

  “My name is Patrick Bergen.”

  “Gwen’s son?” Ruby shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Patrick.”

  “Are you Zach’s girlfriend?” It was a question only a kid could ask.

  “No,” Ruby replied softly.

  “Oh.” Patrick looked up at Travis. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  Okay, this had to be the most awkward conversation Travis had had in ages. He looked at Zach for help, but his buddy was grinning and was obviously enjoying the show.

  “Nope. I don’t…have…one of those.”

  Patrick nodded. “I don’t either. But I’m only eight.”

  “Right,” Travis replied. “You’ve got lots of time for that stuff.”

  Patrick made a face. “Well, I don’t even like girls. And my dad told me that they’re a lot of trouble.”

  “That they are, my friend.” Zach chuckled and looked at Ruby. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” She took a step back. “It was nice meeting you, Patrick, but I have to run.” She didn’t meet Travis’s eyes, and didn’t offer a goodbye to him either. She nodded to Zach and headed for the clubhouse.

  “She’s pretty,” Patrick said.

  “Yeah,” Travis murmured, eyes on her as she made her way through the crowd. No doubt on her way to see Chance.

  “You should ask her to be your girlfriend. I bet she would say yes.”

  He looked down at the kid. “I doubt it.”

  “You could try,” Patrick said, yanking on his hand and grinning widely.

  “Listen to the boy,” Zach said, slapping him on the shoulder. “What does Coach say?” He leaned closer and mouthed the words. Try harder.

  If Travis didn’t have Patrick’s small hand in his, he would have hauled off and used his fist to wipe that silly-ass grin off Zach’s face. As it was, he had to settle for a mental fuck you.

  “Who’s ready to eat?” he asked, looking down at Patrick.

  “Me!”

  “I’ll grab our clubs,” Zach said. “And meet you inside.”

  Travis led the way toward the clubhouse, and once he found Gwen and Brad, deposited Patrick at their table before heading to the bar. He could use a stiff drink before dinner. He rested his hands on top of the bar, eyes sweeping the room. Chance and Ruby were huddled close together on the other side, having a “conversation.”

  “Bet they have lots of those,” he muttered to himself. His mood was dark, and he probably should leave. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Chance and Ruby together for the next few hours.

  “What was that?”

  He jerked his head away from his ex, his gaze landing on dark eyes that were more than a little unsettling. It was the new bartender from Nash’s place.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, the words spilling out more rudely than he meant.

  “I’m serving drinks,” she replied without missing a beat. “What’s it look like?”

  “Honey, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “I need a drink.”

  She raised an eyebrow as if to say no shit, and held up a beer mug. Travis shook his head.

  “You need something stronger. That means one of two things.” Her voice was naturally husky, as if she should be serving in some blues club in the bayou instead of an upscale clubhouse in Michigan. She reached for a bottle of G
len Fiddich. Travis nodded and waited.

  He accepted the tumbler and tossed back the entire thing back in one gulp. “What’s it mean?” he asked, waiting for another.

  Honey poured him a second, neat, and then stood back as he held the glass in his hand.

  She shrugged. “It means you either lost something or you’re trying to get something back.” She watched him closely. “Which one is it?”

  Travis couldn’t help himself. His gaze found its way back to Ruby and Chance. “What if I said it was both?”

  “Well then.” Honey set the bottle of Glen Fiddich on the bar and stepped back. “You might as well drink the whole damn thing, because you’re screwed.” She paused. “A word of advice?”

  “Isn’t that what bartenders are for?”

  “Some people aren’t meant to be together. No matter how much you want it. Lovers. Families. Friends. Just people in general. The hard part is figuring that shit out before you get hurt or worse.”

  “What’s worse than that?”

  She held his gaze steadily. “Before you hurt them.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Honey grabbed up a cloth from the bar. She turned away but paused, looking at him over her shoulder. “Good luck.”

  Travis sighed and tossed back the second scotch. It burned going down, and he wiped his mouth before setting the tumbler back onto the bar. He eyed the bottle of Glen Fiddich but turned away. Booze didn’t help any situation. That was something he’d learned a long time ago.

  Feeling more disjointed and out of sync than ever, he leaned against the bar, listening to the buzz of voices around him. A quick look told him Ruby was no longer with Chance. He had a hard time calling him boyfriend. He needed to find her. Needed to say some things. And now was as good a time as any.

  Travis put on his game face and decided to follow Coach Zach’s advice.

  He would try harder.

  Chapter 8

  Ruby was livid. And upset. And a whole bunch of things she couldn’t even name.

  She blew out a long, hot breath and gripped the edge of the railing. She needed to get it together, because no way could she lose it here. The old Ruby wouldn’t have cared. She would have caused a scene and said to hell with the consequence. But the new, improved version? She thought before she acted, especially when her first thought was to strangle someone.

 

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