The words tasted bad coming out of my mouth. “You were right.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “About what?”
“I should have never moved in here. I’ve upset you and I thought we could repair our friendship, but I was mistaken.”
Those brown eyes held my gaze. “You don’t think we can repair our friendship?”
“I don’t even know if you want to.”
“I do,” she blurted out. She looked so damn cute with her little apron and her flushed face. I knew there was no way I could do six months of platonic friendship. Not while living here. I’d get us in too much trouble. What I needed to do was move out, and then just check up on her.
Once in a blue moon.
That would be the responsible thing to do.
I stood up and started to walk out of the kitchen. “I’ll find a place as soon as possible.”
She raced after me and this time it was her who grabbed my arm.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you insist on moving in here and then just when I get used to having you here, you leave?”
“You don’t even want me here.”
“I’m just confused.”
“About what?”
“Why did you kiss me that night? That night of the funeral?”
I couldn’t remember half of the women I had kissed but I could still remember how soft Kaitlin’s lips where. Lips that were now parted and tempting me far beyond what I was used to.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her mouth, “I wanted to kiss you.”
Vulnerability crossed her expression as she struggled to ask. “So why did you say it was wrong?”
I knew that if I ever wanted to repair our friendship, I needed to have full disclosure. “Jesse made me promise to never touch you.”
Her face flushed with emotion. “That’s why you stopped kissing me?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“He had no business making you promise that.”
“You were 17.”
Her eyes widened. “Why would he even tell you that?”
“He caught me watching you.”
She put both hands on her forehead, like she was struggling to even comprehend this. “What does that mean?”
“You weren’t a kid anymore. And he caught me checking you out. So, he told me that I can never go there. And I agreed with him. And that promise still stands.”
What I wanted to do was grab her and kiss her again. To see if my memory of her mouth was accurate. To see if she still tasted like honey and everything forbidden.
With the last shred of my self-control, I moved around her to go up the stairs. “I’ll start looking for a place in a couple days.”
She stood there with a confused look on her face. “Okay.”
* * *
A week passed and now it was Zach’s turn to avoid me. I had no idea if he had found a new place to live or when he would be leaving. Frankly, I was dreading it when he left. As complicated as this situation was, I loved nothing more than having him near. It felt like sweet torture.
By the time I got home from school, Zach had already left for his game. I made a quick dinner and sat down in front of the TV to watch. This was nothing new. I had faithfully watched all his games since he had started playing in the NHL.
The game started out fast. Someone scored the first goal with an assist from Zach. I held my breath every time Zach got pushed against the boards, but he seemed invincible out there.
I didn’t see it happen. I was coming back from the kitchen when I heard the announcer say, “Mason had Burke lined up and he belted him and Burke is down and maybe out.”
The camera zoomed in on Zach, who lay motionless on the ice. Players fought around him while the goalie rushed to throw himself over Zach. Players' legs and skates bumped against Zach’s lifeless head.
“Peters grabs Mason. They gotta watch out for Burke here. They have to back away from Zach Burke who may be out. He never saw Mason coming and was just stopped dead in his tracks. The medics are running on the ice and the goalie is signaling for help. And Zach Burke is in some trouble.”
My hands covered my mouth as the worst fears rushed over me.
Oh fuck. Wake up. Wake up.
What if he wasn’t okay? What if I never had the chance to say sorry for all the stupid ways I had wrecked this friendship?
I started to cry. Watching Zach lie on the ice, completely motionless, I realized that nothing mattered if I couldn’t say I was sorry. I screamed when they cut to commercials.
My phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Kaitlin Smyth?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Tony, I’m one of the trainers for the Vancouver Wolves.”
“Oh my God, is Zach okay?”
“He got hit pretty hard. They don’t think he has any spinal injuries, but we aren’t taking any chances and he is heading to VGH to do tests.”
“Okay,” I looked wildly around for my purse. “I can meet him there.”
“They are going to be cutting his gear off him, so you might want to grab some clothes for him.”
“Right, I can do that.” I sounded so out of breath.
“I’m going with him in the ambulance, so I will be with him until you get there.”
“Thank you,” I breathed. “Is he awake?”
“Not yet.”
“Oh my God.”
“He’s in the best of hands, okay?”
“Okay,” I sounded so tearful.
“Drive safe, okay?”
“Okay.”
* * *
I don’t even remember driving to the hospital. I just remember rushing into the emergency room and begging the front clerk to tell me where Zach was.
A tall, thin guy with blond hair and glasses approached me. “Kaitlin?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Tony. I called you.”
“How is he?”
“He’s awake. Pissed off and in a lot of pain.”
“Where is he?”
“They took him down for a CAT scan and x-rays, but the doctors think he just has a concussion.”
“That’s bad, right?”
He shrugged. “It’s not great, but his spine is okay. And with the right treatment and diagnosis, he should be fine.”
I collapsed on the chair. “Oh, thank goodness.”
He sat down beside me. “Are you his girlfriend?”
I wish. “No. How did you know to call me?”
“You’re Zach’s medical emergency contact.”
Tears clawed my throat, threatening to overwhelm me. “I am?”
“You are.”
I couldn’t even comprehend that Zach had made me, not his parents, his medical contact. That fact made me want to cry again.
The wait was interminable. Finally, Tony reappeared. “You want to see him?”
I nodded and followed him down the hallway to a curtained off section. He motioned for me to go in before he walked away.
I stepped just inside the curtain. The light was dim. Zach lay in the middle of the bed with his eyes shut. His hair was dried but stuck to his scalp. He had a faint bruise growing on one of his high cheekbones. An IV line was taped to his wrist.
“You going to stand there or come and say hi?” His voice grated rough.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” I stepped next to his bed.
His lips curled into a smile, but he didn’t open his eyes. “I’m alive.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like someone put an ax through my skull.”
Tears blurred my vision. I sat down in the chair next to his bed and I took his big hand in mine. In response, his fingers squeezed mine.
I sat holding his hand for three hours while he slept.
When the doctor motioned for me to talk to him, I reluctantly untangled my fingers from Zach’s and moved to stand outside the curtain.
“You are Zach’s medic
al contact?”
“Yes.”
“Zach sustained a concussion which resulted in him being knocked out for almost four minutes. He has complained of nausea so we administered anti-nausea medication and a pain medication to help him manage his headache.”
“Why is he so sleepy?”
“That is the medication. I’m just going to assess him but if I see no complications, I’m going to release him.”
“Okay. Is there anything I should know?”
“Basically, the best way for him to heal his head right now is sleep and be quiet for at least a day. I’ll write a script for some pain meds for him, but you just need to let him rest. He should refrain from doing any physical activity for 24 hours and then he can slowly introduce physical activity under the supervision of his trainers.”
“Okay.”
“If you notice that he suffers from slurred speech or confusion, or his headache seems to worsen, bring him back to Emergency.”
* * *
An hour later, we pulled up into the driveway. All the lights in the house were on.
“Looks like you left in a rush,” he peered through the windshield.
“You have no idea.”
Inside, he glanced around. The TV still blared on the sports channel. I rushed to turn off the TV.
“Were you watching the game?”
“Yeah.”
He frowned. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Since when do you like hockey?”
I avoided answering. “Do you need help getting to bed?”
“I need a shower first.” Zach gingerly moved to the stairs.
I walked close behind him. “Do you need any help?”
He gave a short laugh. “I think I can manage.”
But regardless of his assurances, I hovered outside the bathroom door, listening to the water run, not breathing until I heard the water stop.
“Kaitlin,” he spoke my name.
“I’m right here.”
“Can you help me?”
I opened the door. Zach, with a white towel wrapped around his waist, leaned against the wall. My eyes didn’t know where to look as I took in his insanely sculpted muscles.
“What’s wrong?” I stepped into the steamy room.
“I feel a bit dizzy. Can you help me?”
I moved under his arm, putting my arm around his waist. I swallowed, trying not to notice how warm his skin was against the palm of my hand or how beautiful his body felt.
Together we slowly shuffled him to the guest bed. I helped him lie back down and then pulled the blanket over him. I flipped off the light.
“Will you lie down with me?” His voice was sleepy, more of a mumble.
I crawled into the bed and lay on my side, looking at him.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Just have a headache.”
“Want some pain meds?”
“I’m okay.”
I reached out and touched his fingers. They curled around my hand.
“Don’t leave.” He instructed before his breath evened out.
I never got a chance to tell him how I really felt. Now that he was okay again, I wasn’t sure if I would have the courage. I lay there listening to him breathe for hours, loving the sound of his soft snore. Would I ever stop loving Zach? He seemed to be over me. Why couldn’t I do the same?
* * *
I woke up cuddling Kaitlin’s soft, warm body. My head hurt and my dick throbbed. Half asleep, I tightened my arm around her waist, grinding my erection against her pert butt.
A groan escaped me. Nothing, in my history of women, had ever felt this incredible.
“Zach?” Kaitlin whispered.
My hot breath found the space behind her ear. “You feel so fucking good.”
She snuggled back against me, her butt torturing my cock. “You do too.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” my lips kissed her neck. I heard her breath catch in her throat.
She arched her neck, exposing more skin for me to kiss. “I know.”
My hand slid beneath her t-shirt. My fingers explored velvety soft skin before they greedily moved up to cup one of her breasts.
Perfection. I delicately rolled her nipple between my fingertips, loving how she groaned.
“Kiss me,” I almost begged.
She arched her neck and my mouth captured hers. Four long fucking years and that mouth was better than I remembered. We kissed until I thought my dick would explode and then we kissed some more.
I needed to touch her. I trailed my fingers down her abdomen and slid my hand in her yoga pants, inside of her panties. She moaned into my mouth when my fingers teased her slick folds. I loved that she was as turned on as I was.
“Let me make you feel good,” I said against her mouth.
Without letting her answer, I slowly circled her nub. Her hips bucked up, pushing against my fingers.
Then she grabbed my wrist with her hand. “No.”
I lifted my head, studying her face. “Okay.”
Her face was flushed, her breath uneven, but her eyes were wide and panicked.
Oh shit.
I removed my hand from beneath her clothing. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes held mine and then, to my horror, they filled with tears.
“Kaitlin, sweetheart, are you okay?”
She pushed herself out of the bed. I watched as she half ran out of my room, and then the deafening sound of her bedroom door shutting.
I shut my eyes. Well, that went fucking well.
* * *
It took her half the day to come downstairs. When she did make it down, she couldn’t meet my eyes.
Why was I such a douche bag? Why had I fucked this whole thing up yet again?
“How’s your head,” she asked in a soft voice.
“Kaitlin,” I took a seat next to her at the island. “I’m sorry.”
She turned and looked at me. “For what?”
“For pushing you too fast this morning.”
“It wasn’t that.”
I was in foreign territory here. Kaitlin was the exact opposite of every woman I knew.
“I did something to upset you.”
She shook her head. “No.”
I studied her, wanting more than anything to kiss her. “You don’t want to be more than friends?”
Her startled expression met mine. “I… it’s not that.”
“It’s Jesse,” I threw out another guess.
Her eyes darkened. “No. He has no business making decisions about my love life.”
Love life. Normally that word would have me running for the hills, but coming from Kaitlin, it made me want to wrap her in my arms.
“Tell me what you want,” I wanted her to spill her thoughts, tell me what she was thinking and feeling, give me something to guide me.
She swallowed. “I want you to keep living here.”
My heart jerked in response. “Done.”
What was her hesitation? Was it because of who I was? My history of meaningless flings and non-relationships?
Which begged the question, what was Kaitlin to me? She was way more than a fling. She’s the kind of woman, that if you were lucky enough to date, you’d want to marry.
The thought had me sitting back in my chair.
Okay, that thought scared me, just a little.
I knew in my heart that before I took things further, I needed to be able to back that up. This is not the kind of woman you led on. This is not the kind of woman you hurt. Suddenly Jesse’s intentions were clear. He just didn’t want Kaitlin to get hurt. And I had a history of loving and leaving them.
“How about we start out with that friendship we used to have,” I reached out and brushed a wisp of hair off her forehead. “No pressure. Nothing more. Let’s just work on that.”
Her eyes met mine. “Okay.”
“I’m still going to flirt with you like crazy.”
She blushed. “Okay.”<
br />
“But when I’m in, I’m going to be all the way in. So, understand that if this goes any further, it isn’t going to be some fling. It’s going to be for good.”
A worried look crossed her face.
Didn’t she want this anymore? Was I four years too late?
* * *
I stood in the stands of the huge hockey arena, watching the game. Zach had casually suggested that if I wanted to come watch some of his games, he could get me tickets. Which ended up being every single home game.
I watched as he circled on the ice, ready to play. His face was a mask of concentration, dripping sweat.
Two long months had passed since his concussion, and Zach had made a remarkable recovery.
Two months since that fateful morning where we made out in his bed. My face burned at the memory. I thought about that morning all the time. Hating myself for jumping out of bed, wishing for more, but knowing it was the only fair choice for Zach. I had no business dating anyone. No business leading anyone on.
Since Dad had passed away, the last two months had been the best two months of my life. Zach had been true to his word, and he hadn’t tried to touch me again. Instead, we had revived the friendship we had grown up with.
Every night that Zach was home, we made dinner together. It started one night when I was cooking.
He sat and watched me. “Can I help?”
“No, that’s okay.”
He stood. “I want to.”
I paused, surprised. “Okay.”
That night he managed to chop up some vegetables for me, all of them mismatched in size, but we talked while I cooked and he chopped, and it was the most fun I could remember having in a long time while cooking.
The next night, he showed up again, when I was cooking. Without even asking, he washed his hands and then said, “Put me to work.”
He told me stories about being on the road and how challenging it had been to be the rookie on a new team.
“Did you like living in LA?”
“Not particularly.”
“How come?”
“I missed the rain.”