Back in Play

by Lynda Aicher

  His shoulders rose and fell in a rapid hitch before he finally eased back. She let go of his arm and he lay down, eyes glued back to the ceiling. “Sorry.”

  And now what? She dropped her head to roll her forehead on his shoulder. Was this really what she wanted to sign up for? And sometimes the obvious choice wasn’t the right one. “This is another glitch. That’s all,” she said almost to convince herself. “We’re both tired and still tiptoeing around each other.”

  His fingers stroked over the back of her head, rubbing gently. A wave of relaxing tingles flowed down her neck and shoulders to exit in a long exhale.

  “But I came tonight,” he said quietly. The harsh bite was gone, replaced by a warm awe. “And it was better than I remembered because it was with you.”

  Well, dang. Fighting that was impossible. His confession wrapped around her heart to squeeze until it hurt. It shoved aside the indignation with a big ole kick that had her swallowing to keep her rising tears contained.

  “I could’ve kept it a secret and you never would’ve known,” he went on. “But I promised not to lie to you again, even by omission.” His sigh gusted over her hair. “Hiding things is what got me in this place to begin with, and I really don’t want to go back to where I was.”

  The truth of his entire statement burned through her. She’d had no clue he’d been faking. Yes, she’d questioned his need to give, but not once had the real reason behind that ever crossed her mind. And still, he’d told her. Gave her honesty instead of a lie. There was no way she could condemn him, or his past actions, despite her wounded ego.

  She squeezed her eyes tight and searched for words. “Thank you,” she finally whispered. “For telling me.” She lifted her head to stare down at him.

  He smoothed his palm up her arm to cup her neck. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “I know.” Mentally, she did, and she kicked the lingering hurt back. “Not coming?” She raised her brows. “That must’ve sucked.”

  His puffed out a sarcastic breath. “You have no idea.”

  She could only imagine. There’d been guys she’d faked it with just to keep from hurting their feelings, but she’d stopped seeing them fairly soon after, unwilling to perpetuate a lie.

  “So...” She glanced at him through her lashes. “I kind of broke your dry spell then?”

  He rolled to his side and dragged her around until she was sharing his pillow, facing him. His touch was light when he grazed his fingers along her hairline then down her jaw. Even in the poor lighting, she could make out his intense study. One that was a bit unnerving for the burst of love it shot through her.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You pretty much shattered my dry spell.” His kiss was gentle like his touch had been when he brushed his lips to hers. “In so many ways.”

  Rightness wrapped around her, unfurled and expanded until she could barely whisper, “You, too.”

  His brows lowered. “How so?”

  Here was a moment of truth. How much did she dare to reveal? Should she charge in or continue to wade in the cautious shallows? She almost laughed at her own doubts and hesitation. That had never been her.

  “I’d almost given up on finding someone like you.” At least her voice stayed steady even if it was a little wafting.

  “Like me?”

  In for it all. “Someone I can see having a family with. Growing old with.” And there it was. All her secret dreams and longings laid out for him to accept or run from. She’d never said them to anyone before. Not past boyfriends, her best girlfriends or even Rock. Some dreams were too precious to let free to the wrong people.

  He was still recovering, vulnerable and flexing in his needs. She knew that. Along with the general recommendation for people just out of drug rehab to not get into a romantic relationship for six months to a year. She still couldn’t stop her hope from soaring. Logic had nothing to do with emotions, no matter how many times she told herself he wasn’t a safe bet.

  He didn’t respond right away, but he didn’t withdraw either. His thumb continued to rub a slow arc over that sensitive spot below her ear as the frown drifted away from his brow. There was nothing but honesty in his voice and eyes when he leaned in and whispered over her lips, “Me, too.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You need to make a decision, Scott. The teams can’t wait any longer.”

  Scott cringed at Dave’s firm demand. His agent had been beyond patient with him, but that trademark quality of his was clearly wearing thin. Shit. He shoved a hand through his hair and glared at the ceiling, his phone gripped too tightly in his other hand. He’d only been out of rehab for six days. Was he ready to make lifelong decisions?

  Hell no. He didn’t need his therapist to tell him that. But he didn’t have a choice. No answer would be an answer. And a weaselly way to go about it.

  “Training camp is still a month away,” Scott hedged, scrambling for any time he could get. He was still at Rachel’s, still acclimating to his new state of mind. Plus his therapist was here. The one he trusted to help him resist the pain pills. “There’s plenty of time before rosters are defined.”

  “But not so much for snagging lead players.” Dave’s heavy sigh gusted over the phone line to dig at Scott. “You’re not new to any of this, so stop pretending you don’t know the score. Most of the free agents worth wanting have already been signed.”

  A majority of them were signed on July first. He knew because he’d checked. He’d made good use of Rachel’s computer while she’d been at work this past week. Six weeks was a lot of lost time he’d had to get back.

  “Have you gotten any farther with the Glaciers?” He’d pushed Dave on that option since he’d talked to him on Monday. His chest tightened around the hope that the man’s answer would be different this time.

  “No.”

  No preamble or hedging with that clipped word. Damn. His shoulders dropped and he bit back his curse. He shouldn’t be surprised. Segar had been firm. “Did you talk to Segar at all? Let him know I was clean now?”

  “We’ve been through this.” The sharp tone gave Scott his answer before it came. “I don’t deal with Segar. The GM is firm, and the Glaciers are close to cap.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. He swallowed hard, then did it again. If he had a goddamn Vicodin near him it’d be swimming in his gut right now. The craving clenched around his mind, saliva forming thick and ready in his mouth.

  “I don’t want to go with a bottom-rated team to piss away my last years in the sport,” he bit out. “I want the fucking cup, and that’s not going to happen with any of the offers you have.”

  Two heavy breaths rasped in his ear before the line went silent. He’d never gone off on his agent like that. Fucking... Treating people like shit was not how he was raised. Even now.

  Especially now.

  “Is that a no then on the two open offers I still have?”

  The calm distance in Dave’s voice only upped the scraping craving that now crawled over his skin. His leg bounced faster and he launched off Rachel’s couch to pace around the cramped space. The trek to the front window then back to the dining table took a max of five seconds. He whipped back around and stalked back.

  “Yeah. It’s a no.” Curses flew through his mind as his doubts made one last bid to choke him.

  “Okay.” There was a relieved note in Dave’s response, but was it for getting an answer or the answer itself? “I’ll let them know.”

  And that quickly, his options were down to zero. Or were they? He stopped in front of the window to stare unseeing at the quaint tree-lined urban street. “Do you have anything else?” Yeah, that was definitely hope in his voice. He stuffed his free hand in his pocket in an attempt to contain the jitters that kept it bouncing.

  “You know those were the last two. Injuries could change that as the season gets closer, but you need to get back on the ice and ramp up your training to show teams you’re still serious about playing.”

  Or get back on the ic
e and show Segar he could still play. Without pain meds. He flexed his knee, searching for any hint of his old friend, pain. There was an ache, a manageable twinge, but it was nothing compared to six weeks ago. The new brace had really made a difference. He’d been wearing it 24/7 and, combined with the different anti-inflammatory drugs along with the acupuncture therapy, he was feeling better than he had in years.

  Of course it was just as likely a result of being off the ice for so damn long. The why or how didn’t matter though. Not when it gave him another shot at his dream.

  “Thanks, Dave.” He had one option left, and it was up to him to go and get it. “I’ll be in touch next week.”

  “Are you heading back home?” Dave and Rachel were still the only ones who knew the truth about where he was.

  “Yeah.” The admission jabbed at his heart, but he had to go back. “I’ll be on the ice on Monday.” The pick-up games would be in full swing, and he had some serious conditioning to do before the season started. And something to prove.

  “All right.” Dave’s tone had returned to the even-keeled professionalism that Scott was used to. “I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

  Scott ended the call, resolve set. He rolled his shoulders and took a moment to simply enjoy the lightened load. One of the weights he’d been lugging around for months was finally gone. He’d made a decision about his career.

  He was going after the cup, and that was it. It was all he really wanted. The only thing that was worth the risk of further injury or becoming a repeat addict. He wanted to go out on top, not as a washed-out has-been who should’ve known when to retire gracefully from the sport.

  A deep, cleansing inhale brought the faint vanilla scent from the air freshener. Rachel.

  That quick, the weight tumbled back onto him. Shit. He wasn’t ready to leave her or the quiet escape he’d found here. Like before, they’d melded together almost seamlessly after those embarrassing glitches of the first day.

  Once he’d bared everything to her.

  A part of him was still waiting for her to come to her senses and kick him out. He had more shit than anyone should have to deal with, yet she continued to be there for him. Stunning him with her generous nature and understanding patience. Confessing his sexual issue had been the most humiliating thing he’d ever done. He’d survived though in part due to her stubborn refusal to let him hide.

  Now he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Sex had never been so good, and it was more than just the orgasms he’d had this week. It was whom it was with. Coming was one thing. Connecting with her while he came was completely different. Way more intense.

  He’d spent his days while she was at work tackling his backlog of emails, texts and calls then working out and doing whatever he could around her house. And now it was time to reengage with the life he’d left behind.

  He sent off a text to the private jet company that managed their plane before he could change his mind. He had to go back tomorrow so he could deal with his life before Monday. First of which was meeting with Segar. Getting on the ice was pointless if he couldn’t get the man on his side.

  The itchy, scratchy craving sensation buzzed over his skin and nudged at his resistance. Shit. He bolted upstairs and quickly changed into his riding clothes. Exercise was his savior right now. Staying busy distracted his mind from what it couldn’t have, even though his body was no longer dependent on it.

  Understanding that had been his first big step toward admitting he had an addiction. Dependency wouldn’t have him longing for the relief the drug gave him when he didn’t have pain. Wouldn’t have him reaching for the absent mint tin in his pocket whenever his stress levels rose.

  He jogged out of the house, locking the door behind him. A few stretches, a quick check of his equipment and he was off. The bike didn’t come close to the quality of the one back home, but it was good enough. He’d walked three miles Monday afternoon to get to the bike store. The salesperson had been grinning like a fool by the time Scott had left. He’d needed everything from clothing to helmet, gloves, shoes and the bike itself.

  The expense was nothing. The joy of having the wind in his face, thighs burning from the workout, was worth just about anything. It was the closest thing he’d found to skating, and he didn’t have access to that. This was the longest he’d gone without stepping in a rink since he’d put on his first pair of skates before his second birthday. And that included after his surgeries.

  The humidity remained ungodly high and matched the ninety-degree temp that day. It didn’t matter to him though. He had a full water bottle and hours to kill with a new goal driving him.

  If he could have Rachel and hockey, then his life would be golden. The idea of a family—kids included—had grown stronger every day he was with her. He could get the cup for her too. Put a shining star on his career and lock in future endorsement dollars.

  One woman had left him because he’d picked her over hockey. This time he’d pick both, and maybe he’d finally get it all.

  * * *

  Rachel stepped out of her car, a smile splitting her face. The fragrant scent of grilling meat hit her nose before she slammed the door closed. Smoke rolled from the gas grill on her back deck, a grinning Scott standing behind it.

  Was it possible to fall in love with him more? She’d sworn all week it wasn’t, then he’d do something like mop the hardwoods or—shocker—scrub the shower or have dinner ready when she got home, and she’d realize how wrong she’d been.

  “Hey,” he called as she came up the short walk to the deck stairs. “How was your day?” He drew her into a long, slow kiss before she could answer.

  Eyes closed, the strain of the day drifted away beneath the warmth of his lips and his tender hold. A lazy haze filled her head when he eased back. She could only stare up at him and acknowledge how much she wanted this to last. He brushed his thumb down her cheek then turned back to the grill.

  Was she silly for dreaming too much? He’d agreed with her on a possible future, but one quiet agreement spoken after a soul-baring confession didn’t equate to a lifelong promise. She’d been telling herself that all week to no avail.

  “Is everything okay?” He glanced over his shoulder, concern on his brow.

  She gave herself a mental shake and shot him a smile. “Yeah. Sorry. That kiss knocked me senseless for a second.” Way more than was good for her. She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and stepped up beside him. She had to enjoy what she had and not worry too far into the future. “What are you grilling?”

  “Chicken and salmon.”

  Protein. The main staple of his diet. “Did you forget we were going out tonight?” Their first outing among friends—his or hers. Nerves had sneaked in all day to twist her stomach whenever she thought about it. He wasn’t the first date she’d brought to a barbecue, but he was the first one in over a year. And definitely the most important one.

  “No.” He flashed that stunning grin again before flipping a chicken breast. “I was going to have one now and put the rest in the fridge.”

  She studied the two salmon steaks and five chicken breasts. Lunch and a snack maybe? He was leaner than when he’d entered rehab, and there was only one reason why he’d want to gain it back.

  One they hadn’t discussed this week.

  The enticing barbecue scent turned sour at the connection that formed in her stubborn mind. She didn’t want it to be true and therefore had turned a blind eye to the small signs all week. Her stomach flipped before her determination rushed up to settle it.

  Hockey season didn’t start for another month, and he wasn’t even a week out of rehab. This was their time, and she was selfishly hoarding it.

  “Of course,” she agreed in an exaggerated tone. “Are you still okay with going out tonight?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He closed the lid and stepped back from the heat of the grill.

  She shrugged. “The whole anonymity thing.”

  His scowl was more annoyed tha
n mad. “I told you when you asked it didn’t matter. Not now. I’m here visiting my girlfriend.” He swooped in to land a kiss on her surprised mouth. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  That was the first time he’d used that word with her. It warmed her instantly, lit her up and chased away the last of the invading doubts. “Girlfriend, huh?” she quipped to cover the flutter that’d overtaken her heart. “Is that a common status, or should I feel special?”

  He swiveled his head in a slow shake, eyes darkening with intent to skip right over her joking tone. “You already know you’re special.”

  The sudden swing into serious territory had her stumbling. Now wasn’t the time to answer all of the questions swimming in her head and shining in his eyes.

  “Your food’s burning.” She point to the smoking grill and laughed when he swore then jumped to open the lid. She gave a swat to his butt cheek, chuckling. “I’m going to change.”

  She ducked into the cool interior of her house, stepped over his sandals and went through the mechanical motions of unpacking. She left her water bottle, coffee mug and lunch bag on the counter before dropping her bag on a dining table chair. It was only the second full week of school, but she had papers to grade this weekend and assignments to prepare.

  The week had been long in a good and bad way. She wasn’t used to having someone in her space, yet he hadn’t been an intrusion. Yes, there were things out of place, and his habit of leaving his shoes where she tripped over them was annoying. But it’d taken no time at all for them to fall into a routine. Dinner, which they made together, then a walk around the neighborhood over to the park before TV or reading together on the couch.

  Her old laptop was open on the other side of the table, a stack of scribbled notes beside it. Scott had been using her spare one this week, and she’d managed to not dig through his papers or browser history. She wasn’t worried about him going back to the drugs, not yet at least. No, right now she was more worried about him going back to hockey.