by T. Torrest
The feeling was almost beyond description. I was sheathed in the tight warmth of her amazing body, incredibly turned on, but even more than that, I was…
it felt like…
it was like I was…
coming home.
The thought came unbidden, but once it entered my brain, there was no turning it off.
It’s a scary thing when you realize that the person you’re with is the person you’re meant to be with. There is no relief at having found them. There is only new torture. Because while you were so busy trying to make that person yours, you were distracted from the inevitable truth: Now that you have them, all that’s left is the fear of losing them.
But not right now. At least for now, I had her.
I swallowed hard at the revelation, and there was a physical lump in my throat, obstructing the air from entering my lungs. I’d been with countless girls before. None of them ever felt like this. Nothing ever felt like this. Nothing ever felt this right, this perfect, this everything.
This was where I was supposed to be.
“Avery,” I choked out, my voice unrecognizable. The single word an insufficient prayer whispered from my foolish lips.
Her eyes met mine, and I swear, I saw tears glistening within them. She knew what I was feeling, and more importantly, she felt it too. She swiped a hand across my jaw, and I turned my face to kiss her palm, never breaking contact with her gaze. She gave a bite to her lip and closed her eyelids, and that’s when I saw the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in all my life: I watched, stunned, as a lone tear escaped from under her lashes and ran down her cheek.
Holy shit. She was tearing up.
The sight of that innocent little rivulet completely broke me. A single tear that confirmed she was in this, too. One, tiny, inconsequential drop of liquid that rocked my entire world.
I love you.
The thought lingered on the edges of my brain, was so close to slipping from my lips. And it didn’t scare me. It didn’t freak me out.
It felt incredible.
I felt my heart splinter and soar, my past converging with my present, my future right there within my grasp. I welcomed the death of my past. I welcomed the sweet torture of the future that was sure to follow. She was it for me. Always had been. Always would be.
I was in love with this woman.
For the first time in my life, for the last, I was in love.
“Zac,” she answered back, after an eternity. Her voice aching and seductive, so hot, yet so warm.
“Oh God,” I said. My name on her lips at such a moment was the sweetest thing I ever heard. “Say that again.”
“Zac,” she whispered out.
My heart swelled, hearing her broken battle cry, her unconditional surrender.
Avery is mine.
* * *
The sun was just coming up, but we were only now settling in to get some sleep. Avery was curled up in my bed, contented, sated, and spooned in my arms.
Just when I was ready to pass out, she slipped out from my grasp and started to get dressed. I thought it was cute that she felt the need to put something on for the short trip to the bathroom.
I gave a stretch and said through a yawn, “Please stop putting your clothes on. You’re only going to come back to bed anyway.”
She chuckled, gave me a quick peck on the lips and said. “Can’t. I’ve got to go.”
I didn’t like the finality of that statement. I sat up and asked, “Go? Where you going?”
“Home. Where do you think I’m going?”
Home? She’s leaving? “I guess I thought you’d want to stay.”
She laughed as she zipped up her skirt. “Zac. I’m a big girl. I know how this works. Tonight was fun, but I don’t expect anything to come out of it.”
She pulled on her sweater and grabbed the rest of her things, while I sat there, unable to speak. I watched, open-mouthed, as she slipped into her shoes and stuffed her tights into her bag.
“Oh, wait!” she added, as an afterthought. She opened her purse and pulled a few bills out of her wallet, depositing them on the dresser. “Here’s that fifty I owed you from last week. Thanks.”
She blew me a kiss and walked out to the living room. I heard the front door close as I sat in my bed, stunned.
What the hell just happened? Have I just been used? Is this what it felt like?
I just experienced the most earth-shattering night of my life, and Avery could just walk away as if it was no big deal?
I looked over at the bills on my dresser, feeling like a fucking gigolo. Fifty stinking bucks? If I were a girl, I’d be pulling a Coco and crying in the shower right now.
Instead, I dragged the sheets up to my chest and sank down into my bed, wondering where the hell everything went so wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I’d just started playing with the Devils when I first met Avery.
This was back in the fall of ‘95, and I was unaware at that time that my run would be so short-lived. I was a cocky punk of a kid, having spent all those years in the high school and college leagues, just itching to get to the show.
I mean, I’d put in my time. I devoted the majority of my life to the ice, bypassing college at more prestigious universities in order to attend one where I could play, one where I had better odds of getting scouted by an east coast team. I thought my best shot was with the Flyers down in Philly, but soon enough, it was the Devils themselves that came calling.
Or, rather, the Devil himself.
Benny Brooks, General Manager. He was a local guy, too, and while he’d deny it, tended to keep a stronger eye on his fellow Jersey boys. Not to say I wasn’t good enough on my own. I was. It’s just that Benny’s involvement made the difference between playing at the Meadowlands or being shipped down to Philly.
So, at first, of course I really liked Benny.
Until I didn’t.
In between those two extremes, I met his daughter Avery.
I was busy banging anything with a heartbeat back then. And let me tell you, the girls were more than available during that time. They hung around our bar, lingered after practices, were waiting for us in the fucking parking lot after games.
So, you can’t blame me for thinking Avery was a typical jersey-chaser that night we first met. Because why else would a girl show up to the bars we went to? The only reason for those girls to stick around was to get in on the after-party action. The game after the game.
I was captivated from that first moment; she was the kind of girl a guy would notice, whether or not she ever opened her mouth. Which she only started to do regularly after months of work on my part, breaking her out of her shell.
And as it turned out, I really, really liked her.
She would show up to Johnny’s with a girlfriend or two, then spend the whole night doing her introverted thing. I used to catch her looking at me sometimes, but then again, she did it a lot. It was kind of nice, actually, to catch her staring at me like that. It was flattering.
One night—our last night—Avery showed up wearing some insane gold dress, and looking directly at it was like staring into the sun. But even still, I watched her every move from the second she walked through the door. I was practically drooling. We’d been hanging out pretty regularly by that time. Sometimes, we’d find ourselves alone, embroiled in some personal conversation or another. But mostly, our encounters were in a group setting, screwing around with the guys, goofing off. I was always impressed that she could hold her own.
But that night, we didn’t spend too much time with the rest of the guys. I basically had her all to myself while we drank and shot some pool. I’d always kept her at arm’s length, not only because her father was the GM, but because I thought I’d scare her off if I made any sudden movements. She’d pretty much made it clear that she was off-limits anyway. But on New Years’, for whatever reason, she was really laying it on. I always figured her friends had dared her or something, because Avery was acting re
ally out of character.
Next thing I knew, we were hooking up in her car.
It was an explosive night in any case, for more reasons than just that.
Because I fell for her.
Hard.
I realized being with her was something I’d wanted for years, and was pissed that I’d denied it for so long. I thought the fact that she’d finally come to me meant there could be something more between us. Maybe I’d even date her exclusively, break ties with any of the other girls I was seeing and just be with one person for a while.
I thought it was the beginning for us.
The next day, I showed up for practice, and was welcomed with a red flag in my locker. It was a calling card from the manager’s office, and a red flag never meant good news. It turned out to be the worst news I could get.
I’d been approached by the Stars a couple weeks before. The deal was, they were a great team and had an above-average chance of making it to the finals that year. They decided they wanted me as a backup for their front lines. Now, I wanted to win The Cup as bad as any other guy, but I didn’t want to do it while sitting on the bench. The money they offered wasn’t easy to ignore, so I figured I’d agree to their deal, sure that the Devils would up my salary in order to keep me. It may sound like a gamble, but that’s just the way these things went down. Hell, it was their game, not mine. I was just following their rules.
But when I sat down in Benny’s office, he broke the news: The negotiating term was up, and they weren’t prepared to match the Stars’ offer.
So, they let me go. Traded to Dallas, effective immediately.
The pronouncement was like a punch to the gut. I guess I never really considered the idea that I was expendable. I thought I was worth more, but it turned out I was wrong.
Wrong about my job, and wrong about the girl. At the time, I was convinced Avery had something to do with the decision.
Five years later, there she was, delivering another stick to my face.
I couldn’t bring myself to call her yet. My emotions were too big and too mottled to talk to her in any normal way without coming off like a desperate loser. I almost told her I loved her last night, for chrissakes. I was sure it was just the heat of the moment.
A very heat-filled moment.
I mean, I really liked Avery. I always had. She was smart and fun and she didn’t take any of my shit. She had this great dimple in her right cheek that would only show up when she was really laughing hard over something. I lived to make that thing appear. And I really liked the way her eyes would spark when she smiled, or soften when she was listening to me spill my guts, or crinkle at the corners whenever she was lost in thought. And yeah, sure, she’d swooped into my bar—into my life—and turned it right the fuck around. But come on. Did that mean I loved her, for godsakes?
Yes.
Shit.
I threw off my covers and got my ass out of bed, cursing the blinding white sun shining through my windows.
I fed Magnum.
I took a shower.
I did my paperwork.
I punched the wall.
Then I went downstairs.
We weren’t scheduled to open until six on New Year’s Day. I would have just closed for the holiday, but the bar was already going to be shut down for the wedding the following night as it was. My poor regulars would go into withdrawal.
Hank must have partied a little too hard last night, because he didn’t show up this morning to do the sweeping. I grabbed the push broom from the storage closet and just did it my damn self. I needed something to take my anger out on anyway, and the repeated slamming of the bristles against the wood floor was just the thing to do the trick. There was more debris than usual: Scraps of confetti, the occasional paper hat, a few pairs of cheesy 2004 glasses. I shoved my broom at all of it, herding the mass into a pile in the middle of the room.
I was so caught up in my head about the Avery Situation, playing it over in my mind, trying to make some sense of what happened, that I didn’t notice the banging in my brain was actually a knocking at the door.
When I finally looked up, there was Julie, cupping her eyes to the glass and giving me a wave.
Julie!
“Holy shit!”
She must’ve read my lips, because she was laughing as I unlocked the door. It had been forever since I’d seen her, and goddammit if she wasn’t one hell of a sight for sore eyes.
“Holy shit, Jules! How are you?”
She came inside and gave me a quick hug, which I could only return with one arm because I still hadn’t put down the damn broom. “Mmm. I’m good. It’s good to see you!”
“You too.”
My face mirrored hers, smiling ear to ear as she said, “I hope you don’t mind the surprise visit. I’ve just seen so much press about the bar lately and figured I’d check it out for myself.”
I directed her over to one of the hightops, answering, “I’m glad you did. It’s been too long.”
“Much too long.” She scanned her eyes around the room, noting the new changes. “Wow. The old dive cleans up real nice, huh?”
“Yeah. I had some help. Landed myself an event planner who likes to decorate.” At the mention of Avery, my stomach clenched.
“Well, whoever did all this must be some sort of genius.”
“She is.”
“Oh, it’s a she, is it?” Julie shot a knowing smirk at me. It’s not as though she wasn’t aware of my depraved history with various members of the female persuasion. She was all too aware. “I should have guessed the reason you look like shit was because of some girl.” She brushed a strand of golden hair out of her eyes and smiled as she asked, “So, who’s the unlucky lady?”
I caught a glimpse of the small scar at her forehead. It was barely visible, but I couldn’t look away.
Julie caught my stare. “Is it that noticeable?” she asked.
I reached a hand up to her face and ran my finger across it, feeling my heart break. “To the rest of the world? Not at all. To me? It’s hard to see anything else.”
“Great. I’m a walking scar.”
“You’re a walking vision.” I didn’t try to hide the warring thoughts playing across my face.
“Zac, you really need to stop beating yourself up over it.”
As if I could. “I’ll never stop beating myself up over it. I should have been able to stop it. What kind of man could do something like this to you? Why would you even let him within a twenty mile radius of you?”
“It’s not your fault, Zac. I don’t know why you insist on taking that on. You’re not the one that hurt me.”
“Wasn’t I? Didn’t I hurt you for months? Maybe I didn’t take a whack at your skull, trying to intentionally scar you for life. But I hurt you all those months after I tore up my knee, when I was such a dick, Julie. And yet, you still stuck by my side. Why did you do that?”
“You needed me to.”
“But… I didn’t deserve it.”
She sighed as she reached across the table to grab my hand. “You didn’t deserve to bust up your knee. You didn’t deserve to watch your father die. We don’t get what we deserve. If that were so, I’d be a princess living in a castle.”
“Yes, you would.” I looked down at the table and directed my commentary toward our intertwined hands. “I want to thank you, Julie. For being a friend even when I didn’t deserve it. I want to thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome,” she offered, without hesitation.
“And I want to apologize, too. I want to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
I finally raised my head to meet her eyes. “For never saying it before.”
Her face wore a mask of sympathy as she pursed her lips and gave a squeeze to my hand, banishing the last of my guilt. I felt it lifting off of me, my body finally shrugging off the burden I’d carried for too long.
Living with regrets is no way to live at all.
“So,” she started
in, breaking the sappy moment. “Tell me about this bar-fixing fairy that’s got you all hot and bothered.”
“Is it that obvious?”
She raised an eyebrow and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never been like this.” I ran a hand through my hair and admitted, “I don’t think she’s as into me as I’m into her.”
Julie laughed and shook her head.
“What?” I asked, completely mystified.
Her eyes met mine as she smiled out, “Not into you? I don’t think you realize what a ridiculous statement that is. It’s easy to be crazy about you, Zac.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ll figure it out. Besides, you’ve got your old Girl Expert back on the payroll. My advice never steered you wrong.”
“The stakes were never this high, Jules.”
She placed her palms on the table and ducked her head to meet my eyes. “Holy shit. You’ve really got it bad for this one, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
“You’d be surprised.” She clamped her lips together, hesitant to continue. “I didn’t just come back here because of all the press about the bar. That was just an excuse to get you back into my life before this belly gets any bigger.”
My brain couldn’t compute her words, even though I knew what she was trying to say. “What?”
“I’m pregnant, Zac.”
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
At first, my stomach dropped at the news. It was too much to register. But even then, I knew I was overjoyed about it. How could I not be?
My eyes were bugging out of my head and I couldn’t find any words. Julie filled in the dead air. “And I’m getting married. To a great guy. Even if he is a Rangers fan.”
I finally found my voice. “Holy shit, Jules! That’s… fantastic!” My mind was spinning, but we were both wearing the same crazy grin. “Your parents must be flipping out.”
“They are. I wanted to tell you myself before they had the chance to spill the news to your mom. They’re really happy. Are you?”