No, not falling. Tyler was lowering her, gentle warmth wrapping around her once more as he settled her on the mattress. The bed dipped, evened out as he climbed in next to her and stretched out beside her. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him as he settled the blankets and comforter over them. A cocoon of warmth, protection, security…
Jenny closed her eyes and drifted off, felt herself falling deeper into the comforting darkness as Tyler kept her warm.
Safe.
Protected.
She would always be safe with Tyler. Even if they argued, even if he didn’t understand why she couldn’t tell her brother—
Jenny’s lids fluttered open, her mind struggling against her body’s need for sleep.
Arguing.
They had argued because she didn’t want her brother to know, didn’t want Jason to find out. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was going to go home but she couldn’t, because the weather—
“Stop worrying. Go to sleep.” Tyler’s voice was low, muffled. Thick with sleep and something else. Jenny shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, then rolled over onto her side, facing him.
Nothing more than a dark shadow against an even darker background. Was he looking at her? Watching her? Or was he already asleep?
She reached out with one hand, her fingers stretching through the darkness until they came to a stop against bare flesh. Smooth, strong. She felt his chest rise on a sharp breath, waited until he exhaled before placing her palm flat against his warm skin.
Breathless seconds went by as she waited, wondering what he would do. Move her hand? Hold it in place? Or tell her to leave him alone? It would be no more than she deserved, not after what she said earlier—
His hand closed around hers and she sucked in her own breath, fear colliding with hope as she waited to see what he would do. His fingers finally curled around hers, strong and warm—
And stayed there.
“Tyler—”
“Go to sleep, Jenny. We can talk later.”
There was something in his voice. Resigned. Sad. No, they wouldn’t talk later, she knew that as sure as she knew her own name. As sure as she knew she should have never said what she did earlier.
They needed to talk now, while the darkness hid them. No, not them. Her. It would be easier to talk if Tyler couldn’t see her, if she knew he wasn’t watching her.
Judging her.
Slut.
Whore.
Could she take the chance and tell him the truth? Was the darkness deep enough to hide what she was feeling? To hide her pain and humiliation? To hide what he’d most certainly think after she told him?
And how had it even gotten to this point? Tonight wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. It was supposed to be a fun night, just the two of them, hanging out and doing their thing. She liked Tyler—more than liked, if she was honest with herself. How could she have expected him to say what he did? To tell her that he was tired of hiding their relationship?
Even if she wanted the same thing?
It didn’t matter what she wanted, not really. What mattered was that she should have explained everything to Tyler. Not just tonight, but weeks ago. Even before then, back to that very first day when he’d picked her up.
When she first kissed him, even when she knew she shouldn’t have. Look but don’t touch.
Yeah, because that always worked so well.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered the words, was ashamed she couldn’t make them stronger. Tyler stiffened, his fingers squeezing hers before slowly releasing them.
“It doesn’t matter. Go to sleep.”
But it did matter. And now that she’d said the first words, she needed to tell him the rest. But she wished he was still holding her hand, wished she could draw strength from just that small touch.
She curled her fingers into a loose fist and drew her hand against her own chest. Yes, it would make her feel better if Tyler was still touching her, but maybe it was best if he didn’t. Maybe the darkness was a blessing, allowing her to pretend that he wasn’t watching her. Knowing that he couldn’t see her.
“The reason I said I didn’t want Jason to know is because…” She paused, breathed in slow and deep like she saw Tyler do when he was preparing for a game. Only this wasn’t a game, this was something much more important.
To her, anyway.
“Jason would just accuse me of…of wanting to be with you because you’re one of his teammates. Because you’re a hockey player.” Silence greeted her halting words and she almost stopped, wondering if it was worth it to continue. But she needed to, so she took another deep breath and let the words come, hoping she could keep the emotion from her voice.
“And he would accuse you of just using me as a…a notch or something. He’s your teammate, Tyler. I can’t be the cause of tension between you, not when you have to work together.”
“Do you think I care what Jason thinks?”
“You should.”
A long pause, almost too long. “Why?”
“I told you—because he’s your teammate—”
“No. Why would he think you were with me just because I’m a hockey player?”
Jenny was glad for the darkness, glad it hid the heat filling her face. What had she expected? It was only natural for him to wonder. And she was the one who put it out there, after all.
“I—I dated one of his teammates. Years ago, when I was still in high school. I—I thought it was true love.” She swallowed the bitterness filling her throat and blinked back the tears of humiliation burning her eyes. “It wasn’t, obviously. And…and he wasn’t the only hockey player I’ve dated.”
“How many?”
“Just a few. And not—not like you’re thinking. Not like the bunnies. Not for that. But Jason thinks—”
“Your brother is an ass.” Tyler’s words were cold, filled with conviction. The bed shifted as Tyler rolled to his side. She still couldn’t see him, not as anything more than a faint outline in the surrounding darkness, but she knew he was facing her. Resting on his side, his head propped on one hand as he watched her.
She almost smiled, felt it fade before it had a chance to grow. She wasn’t finished, she still needed to tell him one more thing. But oh God, she didn’t know if she had the courage, knew she’d be heartbroken if he turned away from her.
But she didn’t have a choice. She’d come this far, she couldn’t stop now.
“There’s—there’s something else. That…the guy I told you about. The one who took the pictures—he’s a hockey player, too.”
Silence, complete and absolute, greeted her words. It stretched on, tightening, lengthening, broken only by the rustle of sheets as Tyler stiffened beside her. He swore under his breath, the words biting and vicious.
Jenny blinked back tears and rolled over, trying to pretend his reaction didn’t matter. Trying to pretend it didn’t hurt.
A hand closed over her shoulder, gently eased her onto her back. She could feel Tyler looming over her, could feel the heat of his body—and his anger.
“Who is it?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Who is it, Jenny?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. Could Tyler see her? Probably not, but she somehow knew he sensed her refusal to tell him.
“Does your brother know?”
“Know what?”
“Who it is? What he did?”
“No. Nobody knows.” Except the people Viktor had sent the pictures to—and the people they sent it to and the people—
She shook her head again, refusing to think about it, refusing to acknowledge how many people might have seen the picture. Dozens? Hundreds? More? It didn’t matter, because the damage had been done.
“Is that why you left home? Why you moved down here?”
“Partly, yes. To get away from—just to get away from it.”
“So he plays up north somewhere? It’s someone you met when y
ou were living back home?”
“Tyler, it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. Tell me who it is, Jenny.”
“Why?”
“So I can kill him.”
Tyler’s voice was cold, chilling her more than the frigid air seeping under the heavy covers. She pushed herself up, reached out with her hand, searching for him through the darkness. “Tyler, no. It’s not—it was my fault. All of it. I shouldn’t have let him—”
“Bullshit. It’s not your fault, Jenny. He had no right to share what was done in private. It’s not your fault.”
“You’re—you’re not mad?”
“Mad? I’m furious. If I knew who it was—”
“Not about that. About what happened. About what I did.”
Tyler moved so fast, she didn’t have time to catch her breath. One second, she was sitting up, her weight propped on her elbows. The next, she was stretched out on her back, Tyler’s body hovering over hers.
“Do you honestly think I care what you did in the past, Jenny? I don’t. What I care about is what some asshole did to you. What I care about is how you were taken advantage of.” His hands caught hers, their fingers entwining as he dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. His voice softened, gentled. “What I care about is you. About us.”
His softly spoken words lodged deep in her chest, taking hold, blossoming outward until they wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth and safety. Her vision blurred but it didn’t matter—she couldn’t see him in the darkness. She didn’t need to, not when she could feel the heat of his gaze. Emotion clogged her throat, holding the words she wanted to say inside. It didn’t matter because Tyler’s mouth was on hers, soft and reassuring.
His tongue swept inside her mouth, tangled with hers in a slow, magical rhythm, as if he had all the time in the world. Seeking, learning. Heat seared her veins, pooled low in her belly as her hips reached for his.
He growled, the sound vibrating throughout her body. Hands, reaching, stroking. Mouth and tongue, tasting, drinking. Their clothes landed in a haphazard pile somewhere on the floor. Frigid air washed over them then disappeared, no match for the heat of bare flesh against bare flesh.
Tyler pulled away once more, leaving her breathless, needy. Then he was back, his hand working between them as he sheathed himself with a condom.
Another kiss. Deep. Possessing. Jenny swallowed a cry as he entered her, another kind of heat washing over her with his touch.
He drove into her, slow, so slowly. Deeper, holding himself still. Pulling out, driving into her again. Friction building, need spiraling. Faster, faster still, out of control as their bodies communicated the words neither one could speak.
Jenny wrapped her legs high around his waist, her rhythm matching his own. Seeking and demanding just as he sought and demanded. Over and over, deeper, her hands clinging to him as she hovered on the edge.
Afraid to let go even as she yearned for release.
Deeper still. Faster. Over and over. Again.
Until she finally fell, a whirlwind freefall into completion, Tyler’s body tangled with hers as he followed her.
Holding tight. Never letting go.
Chapter Eighteen
Jenny glanced around the arena, her heart sinking as she noticed all the empty seats. She tried telling herself it was still early, that there was plenty of time for fans to drift in. Maybe they were stuck in traffic out on 30. Or maybe 83 was backed up again with the Friday evening rush hour.
Or maybe the crowd was still milling around the concourse, shopping for souvenirs or beer and hot dogs.
Or maybe there wouldn’t be a crowd, maybe everyone who was coming was already here.
She sighed and sat back in the seat, her gaze sweeping the empty expanse of ice. Yes, it was still early—the teams hadn’t even come out to warm up yet. But she doubted the early hour had much to do with the empty seats. The Bombers had been struggling, losing their last seven games. And with each loss, fewer and fewer people showed up. Tyler tried to pretend it didn’t bother him but she knew better, could see it in the set of his shoulders and in the tightness around his eyes. Each loss got into his head, taking a stronger foothold, wearing him down, eating at his confidence. She tried to tell him the losses weren’t on him alone, that the team’s defense had broken down on more than one occasion. That the offense hadn’t been able to capitalize on scoring chances. And that sometimes, a team lost for no apparent reason.
He didn’t believe her.
Jason was almost as bad. Surly, short, snapping at her for no apparent reason. The only time he acted like his normal self was when Megan was around—and Jenny made herself scarce whenever that happened. She and Megan hadn’t yet connected, on any level—not since Jenny had talked to Zach about the bruises on Haley’s arm. Not since she’d made that comment to Jason a few weeks ago that he needed to ask his girlfriend what she was hiding. Maybe she hadn’t said those exact words, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t comfortable when Megan was around, wasn’t sure she’d ever be. So she avoided her as best she could, by either staying late at work or going over to Tyler’s.
Tensions were stretched almost to the breaking point—with everyone. Jenny knew it was only a matter of time before tempers exploded and something happened.
Which was just one more reason why tonight was a bad idea. Not the game—whatever happened on the ice tonight was going to happen, no matter what. It was what was supposed to happen after the game that worried her. Tyler told her that everyone was heading to Mystic’s later, that Aaron had insisted on this night out, telling everyone they needed to just go out and relax and forget about the game.
And she would be there as well. As Tyler’s date. He was tired of hiding their relationship, tired of pretending. And so was she. But something—some inner sense of warning or premonition or whatever—was telling her that it was a bad idea. That tonight wasn’t the night to expose their secret.
Now all she had to do was come up with a reason to give Tyler. To find some way to convince him.
The arena’s loudspeaker system came to life, pouring out music—a lively rock song designed to pump up the crowd and build excitement. Jenny glanced around once more, still disheartened at the shortage of people.
At least she’d have plenty of room to spread out on the glass.
No sooner had the thought come to mind then she saw someone moving into the row—her row. Jenny turned to greet the newcomer, a half-hearted welcoming smile on her face. The smile quickly died and she turned away, sliding down in her seat and hoping she wouldn’t be noticed. It didn’t work, of course. It would be hard not to notice her, not when she was the only one sitting here.
Megan dropped into the seat next to her with a soft sigh and stretched her legs out as far as they would go. Jenny glanced at the other woman’s shoes, had to stop herself from rolling her eyes when she noticed the brightly colored plaid Chucks.
Why the hell was she finding fault with everything about Megan? If it had been anyone else, she’d compliment them on the shoes. Say they were cute and ask where they bought them. Not that she’d buy a pair herself, they weren’t her style. But she’d still be nice and ask, still strike up a casual conversation around clothes. She couldn’t do that with Megan, couldn’t even compliment her on her unique style because the woman simply didn’t have any. Loose bootcut jeans, baggy sweaters or flannel work shirts worn open over tank tops, and colorful Chucks. That was Megan’s style. She wondered, not for the first time, how the young woman had ever managed to catch her brother’s eye.
And why did she have such a problem with Megan? It was more than the tiny protective streak she harbored over her brother. She’d met one or two of his girlfriends before and never had a problem with any of them. So why now?
Because Megan had tried to help Haley hide the bruises. Because Megan didn’t seem concerned about whatever was going on with her friend—her supposed best friend. And to Jenny, that was unforgivable.
Her gaze swept
up the ice once more, resting on Tyler as he warmed up. He spread his legs out wide, bending over in a stretch that nearly brought his chest to the ice. Even from down here, she could see the grace in each move. Smooth, fluid. No, she never got the hang of his yoga moves, no matter how many times he tried to show her. That didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy watching—or reaping the benefits.
But watching him tonight didn’t help ease the ball of tension knotting her shoulders. Because of what might happen later? Or because of the woman sitting next to her, openly watching her?
Jenny cleared her throat, trying not squirm under Megan’s stare. “I didn’t think you’d be sitting here.”
Did Megan hear the words she didn’t say? That if Jenny had known, she would have chosen somewhere else to sit? She still could, considering the emptiness of the arena.
“I’m not. My seat’s actually over there, behind the players’ bench.” Megan shifted and pointed to the area several sections over to their left. “Courtney—that’s Harland’s wife—is over there with their son. You could come join us if you want.”
“No thanks. I like sitting here.” Alone, she thought. She didn’t say it, probably didn’t need to. Or maybe she did, because Megan didn’t look like she planned on leaving.
“Why do you sit here? I thought you’d want to sit on the other end.”
Why was Megan trying to strike up a conversation? It didn’t matter that the question was innocent enough. Jenny thought about ignoring her, or telling her that she wanted to be left alone—but she couldn’t. So she took a deep breath and searched for the right tone: polite, but discouraging.
“The Bombers shoot twice down here. I like watching them score.” Not that they’d been doing a lot of that lately. If she had hoped to discourage Megan from any more conversation, she completely failed. The other woman shifted in the seat, her head tilted to the side as she watched her.
“You must know a lot about hockey.”
“Enough.”
Megan nodded then faced the ice, her eyes scanning the players at the other end. Looking for Jason? Probably.
Playing For Keeps: A York Bombers Hockey Romance (The York Bombers Book 3) Page 14