by Amanda Cowen
The tears I’d been holding roll down my cheeks and I start to shake at the memory. Cash’s arms pull me into his chest and my heart hurts reliving the pain. He holds me in his arms as I tremble in his arms, ready to croak out the dark parts of my past. “She overdosed. She fucking killed herself. The next thing I remember is screaming and crying in hysterics when she collapsed on the floor. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she started foaming at the mouth. I don’t remember much else except the sound of my dad’s footsteps pounding down the stairs and my mom’s unresponsiveness. After the police came and the ambulance took her body away. I felt like it was my entire fault that she overdosed. I should have been paying closer attention to her. I never thought she would—” I choke on the emotions surfacing from the past. Tears tumble down my cheeks and onto my lap. “A mom is supposed to be the one person who is supposed to be there for you, but mine just wasn’t. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t love me and Lyndsey enough to stop.”
His hands run through my hair. “It’s not your fault, Quinn. Do you understand that? You were just a kid.” He pulls me into his lap and rocks me back and forth, as my tears fall. “You can’t blame yourself.”
I swallow the nervous knot lodged in my throat. I never expected Cash to be so sincere and understanding of my past. “After she passed away, I made a point of getting out of Bexley for good. I walked away and left Lyndsey behind. I studied and Penn and worked as hard as I could to prove myself to my father. I wanted to show him that my past would not define me. I refused to let my mother and her issues weigh me down. I walked away and never looked back. And now I’m back in Bexley, the one place that haunts me.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Cash whispers into my hair, “So don’t walk away from me, Mittens. It would break my heart.”
I hug him harder, struck with a confusing mix of elation and an unnerving release. Something has shifted in the air between us. He leans forward and kisses my ear and my neck. I feel safe. And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel so alone.
“Sounds like a pretty awesome sweet sixteen birthday, huh?”
He moves me gently out of his lap and runs his hand through his hair, “I live in the dark too. In guilt and blame every single day of my life.”
More tears pool in my eyes, my voice a whisper. “Theo told me about your brother.”
A beat of silence passes between us. “Theo had no business, telling you my business. No matter how bad that piece of shit wants to get in your panties.”
“He’s not trying to get in my panties,” I protest, and Cash looks down at me a knowing glare.
“He’s a slimy piece of shit,” he says. “It took everything in me not to clock him in front of you yesterday. He watches you like a wolf watches his prey.” He removes his hands from my waist and slides me off his lap, his jaw tight.
“Well, is it true,” I whisper. “What Theo told me?”
His eyes are focused out the window. “My brother Cory was…” he pauses, as tears pool in his eyes. "He was everything I wasn't. He and my mom were all I had. And because of me, he's gone..." A single tear trickles down Cash's cheek and he quickly wipes it away, his brow furrowed. “I can’t go there with you, Quinn. I can’t…”
“Why can’t you? Don’t you to trust me?”
We’re both quiet for a few moments as he mulls over in his thoughts. Eventually he sighs. “My brother ain’t the first and last of my baggage.”
“I’m not scared of your past, Cash. And I’m not scared of your baggage.”
Without a word, he grabs me and pulls me against his chest, wraps his arms tightly around me and buries his nose in my hair. I can feel him vibrating from the inside out, tormented with the idea of letting me in.
He pulls away and runs his hands through his hair, his eyes darkening. “I can’t.”
I sigh deeply as I fiddle with the hem of my shirt, trying to find the right words. “I want to understand.” My eyes remain on his, silently asking for more.
“I need to protect you, Mittens.” He stops and sighs. “From all of it.” His fingers roam up my neck and into my curls, and he grips them gently at the root. He holds my head in place so I can’t escape his hot, penetrating stare.
Protect me from what? Tell me! God! What is he hiding?
“If you expect the real me… why can’t you give me the real you?” I ask, feeling a jolt of arousal course through my veins, from the possessive nature of his hold.
His pained eyes remain on mine. “If you got to know the real me, I can guarantee you wouldn’t like it very much.”
“I can’t see anything I don’t like about you.” I slide my hands up his chest.
“But you will.” He pulls away, turning his gaze to the window. “If I let you in, Quinn…” He shakes his head, struggling with some internal conflict. “I’m terrified, because I’ve never felt this way. You said you didn’t want your heart broken, but I know my past, and I know it will hurt you if I don’t keep you protected from it.”
“I don’t understand.” When things get tough, he’s the one usually pushing me away, but this time it’s me retreating to a safe distance.
I realize the only way to survive this weekend is to accept that whatever is going on between us, it’s only temporary. I can’t be with someone with secrets so deep and painful, that he can’t share them with me. How could I possibly trust him? Though God knows, I want to. When I look at him, my heart hurts. I want him. All of him.
“My life hasn’t been easy either, Quinn,” he says, his pained blue eyes on me again. “I've made a lot of bad decisions, and I’m used to losing things. First, I lost my brother. Then I lost my mother to cancer — the only person I had left. And I even came close to losing hockey.” He pauses, fighting his emotions and the memories of his past. “The year Cory died in the accident was my first full year under an NHL contract. I drank myself stupid and snorted myself numb. I fought my teammates, missed practice, showed up under the influence to games… I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m a fuck up. I get your guilt. That’s all you need to know. And right now, I need to keep you safe, protected from my shit. Please, don’t ask me again.”
“Is the accident why you don’t drive anymore?” I whisper.
His hands ball into fists, his knuckles white and his face twisted in anguish. “I’ll never put my hands on a steering wheel ever again.”
“Looks like there is some pretty dark shit in both of us.”
He gives me a pained smile, emotion swimming in his eyes. “You don’t see me like the rest of the world does, Quinn.” His hand slides up my ribcage and his hips press into mine. “When I’m on that ice, I’m someone else. I’m someone putting on a show. Some of it’s for fans of the game and some of it’s for people who love my fighting and my bad rap. But the very first time I saw you behind the penalty box in those white mittens…” his voice trails off. He smiles, a little sadly, then kisses me. “In that moment my heart never felt so alive.”
I’m speechless.
I’ve heard him say a thousand smooth things while he’s trying to woo me, but I’ve never heard anything like this, or something so real roll off his tongue.
“Me? I made you feel that way?” I whisper, turning my head and trying to breathe.
He leans forward and holds my hands in his, whispering into my hair, “Yes, Mittens. And it hasn’t stopped. It’s the best feeling in the world. You make me want to be a better man.”
When he kisses me, I’m barely aware of how fast my heart beats, the sensation of him overwhelming. The reality of what we’re about to do hits me like an enormous wave. I’ve never felt this way about a guy so soon. I’m excited and terrified all at the same time. His hand stills where he is rubbing my back, and I realize we are at the airport. The rumbling sound of airplanes launching into the sky causes us to slowly end our kiss.
Cash rest his forehead against mine, our breathing slow and steady. When the limo door opens, we step out together
and onto the pavement. As his fingers thread through mine, I let them. He leans in, giving me one last kiss before leading us through the doors and temporarily say goodbye to Bexley.
Chapter 12
The plane ride is silent. Cash’s hand is entwined with mine the entire flight, but his gaze doesn’t leave the window. It was hard for both of us to open up about our past. And deep down I know there is a lot more to Cash than he has let on. I glance at him occasionally, watching the shadows and lights of the early morning sun play over the angles on his face. I know I am doing the right thing, taking a chance on Bexley’s biggest bad boy, but my heart still aches at the thought that everything I’ve worked so hard for could implode from this one choice, to be with him.
We land in St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada, with my head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head when the wheels of the plane hit the pavement. I look up at him and his bright blue eyes framed by his thick dark lashes. Staring back at me, it is hard to get a read on the emotions swimming in his eyes. A mixture of fear, vulnerability and a twist with…could it be a hint of excitement?
I let out a tiny sigh as his hand finds the small of my back. He escorts me off the plane with a playful grin, which is a nice change from the sad, distant look he wore the whole flight.
“We’re here.” Cash grabs my hand. “Welcome to Newfoundland, Mittens. The home of yours truly.” He gives me a wink and leads us toward customs. We wait for what feels like forever in the long line up, pass through customs and then head over to baggage claim. Cash wheels our luggage through the airport with a smile on his face.
When we reach the exit, we come to a stop and the doors open. Within seconds, I’m hit with the crisp ocean air blowing off the east coast. “It’s windy,” I say, tugging my sweater tighter around my chest.
He chuckles at my discomfort. “You’ll get used to it.”
The mountainous landscape takes my breath away as my eyes follow the mountains rolling up into the clear blue sky. To the south of us, the rooftops of buildings banked along the ocean’s bay immediately catch my attention. The homes beneath them are painted in bright and bold primary colors, bringing an immediate smile to my face.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe out. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You won’t be disappointed. I promise.” He drapes his arm around my shoulders. “But we’re not headed into the city of St. John’s. We’re headed to Thompson, a town about thirty minutes north.” As we step onto the road, he places his hand on my lower back as we walk up to another limo. He guides me into the back of the limo before climbing in after me and rambling off an address to the driver.
“Is Thompson your hometown?” I ask looking up at him.
“Sure is,” he replies grinning. “And believe me, it ain’t nothing like California”
We pull into the gravel drive that leads up to a house overlooking a large inland lake. Cash explained on the ride that we were staying in the house he grew up in. He told me that his dad was an American pilot who left his mom when Cash was only three years old. His mother moved into his grandparent’s home after his dad abandoned them. She needed the extra help taking care of Cash and his brother, Cory, while working full-time. It wasn’t until both of his grandparents passed away in his early teens that his mom inherited the home. And once she passed away, Cash inherited it.
“It’s not much.” He opens the limo door and hops out before the driver can even pull out our luggage. “But it’s mine.”
“Cash, it’s fantastic,” I breathe out in awe as he grabs my hand and pulls me onto the covered front porch. The view is spectacular and overlooks a large inland lake followed by miles and miles of trees. The house is perfect. It reminds me of one those old barn houses you’d only see in the movies, big shutters and a wrap-around porch. “I can’t wait to see the inside.”
“I’m warning you. It’s nothing special.” He unlocks the front door and steps inside. “I didn’t bring you here to impress you, Mittens, because frankly nothing about this old barn house is impressive. I haven’t changed much since my Mom passed.”
I follow him through the front door. “Then why did you invite me here?”
He turns around and tilts my chin upward to bring my eyes in line with his. “Because it’s all I have left that means anything to me. After I inherited this place, no one except me has stepped foot in it.”
I blush taking in exactly what he is saying. I am his first guest and he wants me to know it.
A few moments of silence pass between us. His hand drops from my chin and I turn my gaze into the living room. The far wall is lined with rows and rows of shelves that are filled with music records.
I run my hand along the old worn leather couch and then spin around and look back at Cash. He hasn’t moved and his soft blue eyes haven’t left me for a second. “I can see you weren’t kidding when you told me you collect vinyl.”
He smiles. “Those aren’t mine. What you’re looking at was my Mom’s record collection. When I moved to California, I left her collection here where it belongs and I started my own.”
I pull out a Rolling Stones album and smile back at him. “She had good taste.”
“Good taste runs in the family,” he says, running his gaze up my legs, stopping at my chest then meeting my eyes.
I blush and turn my back to him, admiring the vintage suitcase record player sitting on a side table. Chills dance up my spine as I hear the rumbles of Cash’s voice. “That was my Mom’s first record player. The other one I have of hers, I keep with me in Bexley. It is a little piece of her I take with me, wherever I go. She brought us up on music. We listened to all the greats.”
I like the warmth in this place and the softness I see in Cash when he’s standing in it. Suddenly I no longer see him as shallow and self-centered. He emits a different glow that causes my heart to flutter around in my chest. I like this side of him.
“This place is not what I expected or where I expected you would whisk me off to for the weekend. Not from you. But this…” I say in an almost whisper. “I absolutely love it.”
I bite my bottom lip as he moves toward me and I drink him in. His hair is a ruffled mess and his jaw sports the shadow of a day’s missed shave. My thoughts immediately focus on how much I’d love to run my tongue over his lips and fist my hands in his hair.
He leans in, stopping inches away from my lips and whispers. “Let me put one of my favorites on for you.” He pulls the record slowly from my hands and every single inch of my body trembles, aware of how close in proximity his body is to mine.
Within seconds, the Rolling Stone’s, Wild Horses is playing and I am wrapped in Cash’s arms as he sways us from side to side. His hands rest on my lower back, and I slide my hands up his arms, resting them on his shoulders. Without the extra height from my usual killer heels, I am much lower than usual to his six foot four-inch frame. He leans down until the warmth of his breath tickles my ear and neck. “I love this song,” he says against my hair.
I smile shyly at him, trying to keep my emotions under wraps. My feelings for him are moving quicker than my heart can handle. His scent envelops me and I let out a trembling breath, knowing that one kiss from his lips and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from letting him have me right here on that sofa.
“You feel amazing in my arms,” he whispers.
With those words I look up at him. As the lyrics fill the heated air between us, I can see the feelings he has for me in his eyes. He pulls me tighter against his chest and lets out a satisfied sigh, nuzzling his chin against the top of my head.
We sway in silence until the song ends and skips to the next. Finally, I let my arms fall to the side. I shouldn’t have let myself become lost in his arms only hours into our weekend. So much for not letting my emotions get the better of me. I bend down and grab my luggage, turning away and motion over to the kitchen with a coy smile. “Aren’t you going to give me a tour?”
He gives me a triumphant smirk,
and nods to my right. “As you can see, that’s the kitchen.”
I turn my head to the side and admire the old rustic charm of the cabinets, paired with the butcher’s block kitchen island. Pots and pans hang over it and the walls are painted an eggshell white.
I love how Cash grew up; simple and easy. Not was I was expecting, but I love it.
“Are you thirsty?” Cash is rummaging through the cupboards. He pulls out two short tumbler glasses and fills them with water from the tap. He hands me a glass of water with a smile.
“Thanks,” I reply as I take a sip.
“You okay?”
I shrug, chewing on my bottom lip for a few moments to think of my next words. “I’m just a little taken back all of this…this side of you.”
He winks. “You bring out the best in me.” His words make my chest swell. It feels the same for me and I don’t ever want that to change. I’ve never been with a man that makes me feel so desired or inspired me to want a chance at something real. He grabs my empty glass from my hands then places both of our glasses in the sink. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Separate beds?”
“I’m trying this new thing. It’s called being a gentleman,” he says with a wink.
“I think that would be an impossible feat for someone of your kind,” I tease.
“I’m serious.”
I laugh once. “We’ll see about that.”
Impressed by his restraint and taken aback by his sudden change in manners, I let him grab my luggage and slide past me to walk up the staircase. He pushes open the first door on the left and when I step inside my eyes are met with yet another spectacular view. The huge seated bay window overlooks the lake and trees with an old lighthouse in the distance. The room is simple, with an old wrought iron bedframe, antique side table and lamp. A taller dresser decorated in vintage hockey stickers sits on the far right wall with a mirror hanging over top of it.