“I can’t lose you, Henny—and that’s what it feels like.” She lowered her gaze, shaking her head like she was having an entire argument in there, all by herself. “Being with you like this… It means losing you in all the other ways. The friend ways. Every day we’re together, more and more it’s like I’m holding my breath, waiting for the bubble to burst. Waiting for you to tell me you don’t want to be friends anymore.”
“But I don’t, Bex.” Henny shook his head. They couldn’t go back. Not when all he wanted to do was go forward. Give this thing a real shot. Try his best to make her happy, to put a smile back on her beautiful face. “What we have now… Everything is different. Good different.”
“It isn’t, though. That’s what I’m saying.” Bex swallowed hard, still not meeting his eyes. “For weeks, I watched you play like a rock star. Weeks that we’ve been having the most amazing sex. And then—”
“So? You telling me that you don’t have a little more spring in your step lately?”
“And then,” she continued, “we have one fight, and you just…” She finally looked up at him, her eyes full of genuine fear. In a voice so small he had to lean in to hear it, she said, “What if you’re just using sex—me—as a distraction?”
“Hey!” Another knock on the door, another angry grunt on the other side. “What the fuck?”
“Five minutes, asshole,” Henny snapped. Then, to Bex, “I can’t believe you’d ever think that.”
“What am I supposed to think? Look at yourself right now. Look at tonight’s game. Do the math, Henny.” She tried to duck out from under his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go. Not like this. He moved in closer, pressing out the last of the space between them, caging her against the sink.
Abandoning her useless escape plans, she said, “This isn’t working. I don’t know why you’re game is off this season, what’s going on in that head of yours, whether you even want to play hockey anymore. All I know is that you need to figure out your shit, and I need to figure out mine, and we don’t need more complications getting in the way.”
“So this is what? Your version of tough love? Hard pass.”
Henny might’ve been able to handle tough love when they were just friends. It was the kind of things friends were supposed to do, right? Keep each other on the level. Kick each other’s asses once in a while.
But tough love wasn’t what he wanted from the woman he was falling for. He didn’t want to make her worry. To upset her. To give her a reason to doubt for even a minute that he could be the kind of man she could count on. The kind who had his shit together, who could take care of her and give her the world, support her in her own dreams. The kind who could back her up without crowding her out. The kind who’d never put that fear in her eyes, never make her doubt that being with her was the best damn thing in his life.
Well, asshole, maybe she has every right to doubt you. Maybe you’re not that guy.
“You don’t get a hard pass on this, Hen,” she said. “Sorry.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want this? Us?”
“You’re too important to me. Our friendship is too important to me. I’m not willing to risk it for just sex. Not anymore.”
“Just sex?” Henny cracked a smile he wasn’t really feeling, but if he didn’t do something to turn this tide, he might explode. He leaned in close, brushing his lips over her neck, over that spot behind her ear that always drove her wild. “I don’t think a woman having just sex is capable of making sounds like the ones you made in the shower when—”
“Kyle. I’m serious.”
Kyle? She hadn’t said his name in that tone since middle school. She was beyond serious. Which was exactly why he’d been trying to avoid this conversation ever since they’d woken up together that morning, hungover as shit. Hell, he’d probably been avoiding this conversation since they were in high school and he first realized she was a woman. A very hot, crazy, amazing woman that for some reason kept putting up with his bullshit, no matter how much he threw at her.
But this was it. She was already turning away. She was standing right in front of him, the heat from her body radiating against his chest, the sweet smell of her hair reminding him of home, the taste of her skin fresh on his lips, yet he could already feel her disappearing. Could hear all the words she wasn’t saying, right there under the words she was.
The thought stabbed him behind the ribs. He didn’t have the strength to listen to those words from her, to face the possibility of losing her.
So he did what he did best.
He cupped her face, brought her mouth to his, and kissed her.
Bex resisted for less than a heartbeat before she finally parted those sweet, pillowy lips, releasing a soft little moan as his tongue slid into her mouth. God, she tasted amazing. Felt amazing. Every sound she made, every hot breath ghosting across his lips, every beat of her wild heart made his head swim. His cock ached for her, straining hard against his jeans as he devoured her mouth, desperate to get closer. Deeper.
Grabbing her hips, he lifted her onto the countertop, hands running up her bare legs, pushing her skirt up around her waist. She fumbled with his belt, his button, his zipper, her small, warm hand sliding into his boxers and fisting him, stroking him just right.
But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He wanted more of her, all of her.
Henny ran his hand up the inside of her leg, seeking the warmth between her thighs. Her panties were already damp, and when he pressed his fingers against the silky fabric, Bex arched her hips, digging her nails into his shoulders.
Jesus fuck…
He hooked his fingers inside the top edge of her panties, knuckles brushing her soft hair. She was so warm, so wet, so fucking ready for him. Sliding two fingers inside her, he stroked, slow and soft, his thumb teasing her clit as he plunged his fingers in deeper, making her writhe.
“How bad do you want this?” he whispered, grazing the sensitive flesh of her earlobe with his teeth. “How hard do you want to come?”
Bex whimpered, her body tightening around his fingers as he slid in deeper, faster. She was slippery and hot, so needy for his touch. The thought drove him wild. God, they were so fucking good together.
Bex kissed him hard, biting his lower lip, barely breaking for air. She tightened her grip on his cock, rubbing her thumb over the tip, her touch sending shockwaves of pleasure up and down his spine.
“I want you inside me.” She kissed him again. His lips. His jaw. His throat. “Fucking me. Owning me.”
Henny nearly came at her words, the scent of her arousal flooding his senses. But before he could tear off those panties and plunge inside her, the door rattled on its hinges, the cheap sliding lock straining as the dude outside tried to force his way in.
“Got a line out here, assholes!” the guy shouted.
“Fuck off,” Henny grumbled. Then, to Bex, “This joint really needs another bathroom.”
Bex didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. She looked at him with the wild, desperate eyes of a succubus ready to feed.
“Office,” she demanded, hopping off the sink and yanking the skirt down over her luscious ass. “Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bex perched on the edge of her desk, watching Henny pace the closet-sized office.
“You’re not saying anything,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at her. Wasn’t touching her. The flames he’d stoked to life only minutes ago had been snuffed out by the interruption.
Bex didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Everything inside her still ached for his touch, the hot pulse between her thighs an inescapable reminder of his effect on her. Despite the sudden chill between them, she still longed for him.
“Neither are you,” she said.
“Don’t know what else to tell you.”
Bex’s eyes glazed with tears. The gulf between them had never felt so wide.
Somewhere along the twisty path of friends to lovers, they’d taken a wron
g turn. The more she tried to get back on course, the more confused she felt. Now she was alone in the woods, no map, no gear, no compass. Totally lost.
And for the first time in her life, her best friend wasn’t there to help her find her way again.
“What are we doing, Hen?” she asked.
“Fuck if I know.” He still hadn’t looked at her, not since they’d left the bathroom.
Hope leaked out of her body, one breath at a time.
Henny turned toward the door, his back to her, his hand reaching for the doorknob, and in that moment she knew exactly what he was thinking. Henny was the most loyal friend she knew, but he didn’t do drama. Didn’t do entanglements or messy, confusing, friends-with-whatever-the-hell-they’d-become disasters.
Bex didn’t blame him. In his own way, he needed stability, too.
Just as he’d been her beacon, she’d been his rock. But she was unmoored, his light had gone dim, and neither of them seemed to have a clue how to fix it.
“Henny, wait,” she said, hoping the right words would come. The magic answer that would make all of this okay again.
They didn’t.
Henny stopped anyway. Turned around. Crossed the small space between them in a heartbeat. His hands were on her face, in her hair, his mouth devouring hers, hungry and demanding, raw and passionate. Angry, too. Afraid. It was like he poured every last emotion into that kiss, a punishment and a promise all in one.
“Leave with me,” he demanded. He was breathless now, his eyes wild and desperate and intense and oh God, she wanted it to be real. So, so badly.
“Where?” she breathed.
“Does it matter?” He fingered one of her curls, tucking it behind her ear as he brushed his lips along her jawline. “We can travel around, see the country. Camp at every national park, just like we used to talk about.”
She smiled, remembering their summer after junior year. Henny had saved up money from odd jobs to buy her a telescope and a star map for her birthday, and while the rest of their friends were out partying and hooking up and trying to get into skeezy dive bars with fake IDs, she and Henny had spent the summer learning the constellations, falling asleep under the stars almost every night. She used to dream about taking an epic road trip with him, visiting the parks in every state, wondering if the stars looked the same at the Grand Canyon, in Death Valley, in Yellowstone as they did in Buffalo.
Decades later, she still hadn’t taken that trip. She’d never wanted to do it with anyone but Henny.
“I haven’t camped since an earth science overnighter in college,” she said. “I don’t even own a sleeping bag anymore.”
“Fine, we’ll stay in five-star hotels. I don’t care, Bex. Let’s just… let’s just go. Right now. Tonight.”
“What about the league?” she asked. “The bar? Everything? We can’t just leave. We have—”
“Forget the NHL. Forget the bar. Forget Buffalo and the guys and all the bullshit. That ends now, Bex. Let your mom sell the place like she’d planned. Walk out that door with me and start over. You and me against the world, just like always.”
Hell, he was serious. One word from her, and they’d be out of there. On the road to some faraway fantasy.
But that’s all it was. A fantasy. They weren’t children camped out in the backyard anymore, fenced in from danger, ten steps away from her mother’s safe embrace. And no matter how simple and fun he’d made it sound, Bex knew bailing on Buffalo wouldn’t solve anything. Not for either of them.
“Where’s my wild girl?” he whispered, his lips brushing hers. Slowly, his hands drifted to her thighs, hiking up her skirt up again, his fingers stroking the bare skin of her legs. “The one who made a hundred bucks on a dare to drink hot sauce. The one who jumped off the waterfall at Letchworth when none of the boys would.”
“You gave me hell for that after,” she reminded him.
“Only because I was completely intimidated by you.” He palmed her ass, fingers dipping beneath the fabric of her panties, His touch was warm, melting her inside and out. “You were so wild, then. Reckless,” he whispered. “I know that girl is still in there, beautiful.”
He kissed her full on, testing the last of her resolve. His touch was electric, her whole body shivering, trembling, aching for it. She was losing herself again, drifting away into the now-familiar comforts of his kiss, his breath, his promises that seemed to transport her to another world.
But they lived in this world. Reality. And now it came crashing between them once again, cold and unforgiving.
She pushed away. They were going in circles.
“You can’t keep kissing away every argument,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Earlier today you wanted me to move in with you. Now you want to leave Buffalo, see the country? You’re making me dizzy.”
“Think of the possibilities for your magnet collection.” Henny grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and soon his smile vanished entirely. “Jesus, Bex. I can’t make you happy tonight.”
“You need to make yourself happy. That’s the problem.”
“You think?” He met her gaze again, all the tenderness and excitement gone from his eyes. He was shutting down, pushing her away bit by bit, but as much as she wanted to comfort him, to give him what he wanted, to fix this for him, she couldn’t. Not anymore.
“Got any tips?” he snapped. “Secret formula? Twelve steps? Maybe an audiobook?”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Maybe start by figuring out what you want to do with your career. You can’t keep jerking your team around like—”
“My career.” He laughed, but in it was a bitterness that chilled her to the core. “That’s pretty good advice coming from someone who keeps dropping the ball on her own business plans.”
“By dropping the ball, I assume you mean not taking your money?”
“For one thing, yeah.”
“I told you it was super important to me that I handle the bar on my own terms, no matter how long it took me, no matter what the outcome. Remember?”
“Even if you lose the whole thing? Do you think I can stand by and watch you do that to yourself? All because you’re too damn stubborn to—”
“It’s not your call. And we’re talking about you and the Tempest, not me. Stop changing the subject.”
“Oh, I’m changing it, baby. You think you can criticize my career fuck-ups and not take it on the chin yourself? Wrong.” He pulled out his cell, his thumbs flying across the screen. Seconds later, her phone buzzed with a text. “That’s contact info for Miguel, my guy at Bluepoint. Call him. He’s been expecting you.”
“What?”
“I told him about you weeks ago,” he said. “First time you showed me that little bird sketch.”
“You had no—”
“The minute I saw that sketch, I could picture it on the new sign. I could picture all of it, every last idea you ever told me about, all the stuff I saw on your spreadsheets. But I also knew you wouldn’t call him on your own. You’re stubborn and too damn proud for your own good. You needed the push. Still do.”
“Yet two minutes ago you were ready to whisk me away from this place.”
“Now who’s changing the subject?”
Bex pinched the bridge of her nose, her head throbbing. “I told you I’d think about Bluepoint. Not that you should call your man and tell him my life story”
“But you didn’t think about it, did you?”
“No,” she admitted.
“It’s not like I told him all your secrets, Bex. Just that you were a friend with a small business and some kickass ideas that just needed a little startup cash.”
“And?”
“And what? He said he’d look forward to your call. But obviously he never got it.” Henny sighed. “Look, I know you want to do everything on your own, but sometimes you gotta set aside your pride and—”
“Oh, it’s that simple?” Rage bubbled up inside, making her tremble in ways that had nothing to do with
his earlier kisses. “I set aside my so-called pride, call your buddy Miguel, drop your name, and the bank magically sends me a check? What, as a favor to their star customer?”
“You worked your ass off.” Henny grabbed the stack of papers on her desk, the ever-expanding folder of ideas and research she’d been wasting her time on for months. “Once they see all these plans, I know they’ll—”
“They’ll run my credit and show me the door.”
He tossed the folder back onto the desk, papers spilling across it, colored pie charts catching her eye and making her insides hurt. She really had done a lot of work. Put her whole heart into it, actually.
“You’ve already figured it out, huh?” he asked. “Already ruled out your options before you’ve even given yourself a fair shot?” Henny shoved a hand through his hair, narrowly missing his bandage. “What the hell, Bex? What happened to you out there?”
She knew at once he was talking about California. Her ex. Her personal shame.
And this time, he wasn’t backing down.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Are we really going there?” Bex asked. “Now?”
Henny sat down on her desk, folding his arms across his chest. There was no more dodging her gaze. He glared at her intently, unflinchingly, demanding a response. “I got all night.”
Leaning back against the wall, Bex sucked in a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts. She’d never told anyone the whole ugly truth—not her mom, not any of her friends back in California, not Eva and Fee, and definitely not Henny.
The official story was that things had crashed and burned in a big way—a life-altering, career-ending, run-back-home-to-mama kind of way. But she’d been intentionally hazy on the details, and whether it was because her friends had finally started respecting her privacy, or just didn’t want to see her crying anymore, they eventually stopped asking.
The truth wasn’t anything crazy. It’s not like Bex was on the run from the law or had to change her identity. She hadn’t harmed anyone. As far as most people’s stories went, hers felt tame by comparison.
Down to Puck (Buffalo Tempest Hockey Book 2) Page 17