And then it happens, that high stick from number twelve coming down in a slash.
My breath stalls in my lungs, and I’m off the couch, stumbling toward the TV like there’s something I can do. Like I can stop the flow of blood on the ice or the look of murder in Rux’s eyes.
Players from both sides are coming at each other, while the refs struggle to regain control. Then Quinn O’Brian is there, helping Rux to his feet and blocking him with his body when Rux turns back to the fray.
The camera cuts away when he gets to the bench, and my heart stops. Who cares about the stupid game? The only thing that matters to me right now is the man who just left it.
My phone pings with a message from Julia telling me he’s fine and she’s betting Rux is back on the ice in the next five minutes.
Me: Maybe he shouldn’t go back out?
Julia: LOL not my call, Sis.
Julia: It’s a rough game. They’re used to this. And from the look in Rux’s eyes skating off, something tells me he’s more than ready to get back on.
I watch the rest of the game, texting back and forth with my sister. She was right, Rux is back in for the last five. And the hit number twelve takes from Vaughn when he gets out of the penalty box sends him sailing. Hard. It’s legal. And definitely intended to cut Rux off before he had the chance to retaliate on his own.
When the game is through, I text asking if he’s okay before I can talk myself out of it.
He’s probably got someone looking at his mouth. There are interviews and who knows what else after the game. But I’m hoping he’ll call if he gets a minute.
But when I hear from him, it’s just a text telling me he’s fine and that I should get some sleep.
Translation: He’s not calling.
Which is fine. Except then I can’t stop myself from wondering… what he’s doing to burn off all that aggression from tonight’s game.
Chapter 25
Rux
I got home late last night, and it felt weird walking into my apartment without calling Cammy or stopping over. But I’m self-aware enough to recognize that no way am I in a place where I can handle calling at two a.m. and maybe hearing Jeremy in the background, rumbling sleepily—or worse, not so sleepily—about who’s on the phone.
I’ll get there, maybe. Or maybe I’ll just stop calling in the middle of the night. I’ll keep my calls and visits—like today’s—restricted to the hours when Matty’s awake.
I rake a hand through my hair, feeling agitated and out of sorts.
What if Jeremy is here? What if he’s moving in?
I feel like I’m going to puke. What if she marries him?
I plant my hand against the wall beside the door and hang my head, trying to catch my breath.
I don’t want to think about Cammy dressed in white and looking into fucking Jeremy’s eyes while she vows to love him for the rest of her life.
One breath becomes two, and then two becomes three.
I need to get my shit together. Get my game face on. Just not the one where I’m visualizing Cammy’s ex in place of all the opposing players and giving myself free rein to vent my aggressions when they try to take something from me I don’t want them to have.
The door creaks open and I catch a little blue eye going wide at the sight of me.
Times’s up.
“I told you he was out there!” Matty calls back to his mom as the door swings wide and my favorite kid in the world bounces from foot to foot.
“Hey buddy, how you doing?” I ask, stepping into the apartment because as much as I know he wants to, Matty’s very good about not leaving the apartment by even a foot without his mom right there.
Little arms with the strength of a man lock around me as he starts rambling. “You were awesome, Rux. I watched part of all your games and then I got to see the end of some but not all. My mom didn’t want me to worry about you getting hurt, but Billy Felton had it on YouTube and so I saw it anyway and you looked really mad. I bet that number twelve guy was scared of you. Is your mouth okay? Can I touch it? Does it hurt? Do you need some ice? When’s your—”
“Matty,” Cammy gently interrupts, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and then tucking the end into the pocket of her jeans, “let him catch his breath.”
Matty pinches his lips together and peers up at me like he couldn’t wait to see me again.
I can’t bring myself to meet Cammy’s eyes because I’m a total pussy and not ready for what I might see in them. So instead, I lean down, take a big, exaggerated breath and let it out in a noisy whistle that has him giggling and shaking his head at me like a mini version of his mom.
“Whew, think I finally caught it.”
Matty smiles and I rub his mop of hair before bracing to look around. The space looks the same. It feels the same. No half-dead ficus plants. No unpacked cardboard boxes stacked in the corner. Not even a fresh pile of masculine junk accumulated on the coffee table.
No signs of a new, probably permanent occupant.
Okay, so maybe I can breathe.
“Mom didn’t think you were coming over today.”
“No?” I look from Matty’s earnest face to Cammy’s suddenly anxious one, a feeling of sinking dread moving through me. I should have called. Checked that it was okay.
“I told her you’d be here. But she told me you might be too busy and if you couldn’t come, I shouldn’t take it personally.”
She’s shaking her head, wringing her hands together as she peers across the open space between us. “Since I hadn’t talked to you, I wasn’t sure if you were still...”
She takes a breath and gives me a helpless look.
I let out a laugh I’m not totally feeling and make a mental note that I better start checking in before I show up here. “I said I’d come by, so—”
“I’m glad you did,” she rushes, her hand moving through the air in an awkward wave that makes me want to pull her into my arms and hold her close. Instead, I keep my feet planted where they are as she adds, “We are.”
Matty drags me back into the kitchen so I can check out the fridge. They made me banana muffins and after being challenged to see if I could eat the whole cupcake in one bite—umm, yes—Matty darts off to get something for me from his room.
Wiping my mouth on one of the thin napkins from the metal dispenser on the kitchen table, I look up to find Cammy hovering at the kitchen doorway.
Christ, she’s so fucking pretty, and all I want to do is haul her into my arms and hold her. I want her arms around me. Her tits squished up soft against my chest, her head against my heart.
“Thanks for the muffin.”
“Matty wanted to make them for you.”
Matty. Not her.
I look down at the floor around my feet, hating this tension sitting in the space between us.
From the first day I met this girl it was nothing but easy between us. Nothing but fun and relaxed and right. And now we can’t even talk about a fucking muffin.
She takes a step toward me and my heart kicks, but then she stops. Her hands landing on the back of her kitchen chair.
“You looked good playing. Kind of intense.”
“Yeah, good win.”
Her hands coast over the back of the chair in a move that’s almost restless, and I can’t help thinking about the way her hands felt moving over me. How she’d let me rest my head in her lap while she played with my hair, giving me that gentle touch and sweet affection.
“You seemed kind of... different. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just found my focus. Rhythm. Groove. Whatever.”
“Are your coaches happy? Have you heard anything more about trades?”
Yeah, I’ve heard plenty. But at this point it’s impossible to filter out the rumors from the truth. “Nothing solid.”
I don’t have an answer about the coaches. I don’t really want to tell her that Coach Adkins said I looked like a psychopath out there those last two games.
“D
oes it hurt?” she asks quietly, her hand coming up and stroking my jaw just below the healing cut. And that touch, Jesus, I didn’t even realize I’d been closing the space between us until she reached up and feathered her fingertips over my skin.
My hand closes around her wrist, holding her where she is. I close my eyes and feel that soft, gentle touch. Resisting the urge to dip my head so I can draw her fingers into my mouth.
“Rux?” My name is barely a whisper, but there’s no missing the uncertainty behind it.
Giving in to one stroke of my thumb over her wrist, my eyes flip open and I smile. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine.”
I’ve moved her hand from my lips, but I haven’t let her go. If she pulls away, I will. But for just this minute she doesn’t seem to notice the way we’re still connected.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be standing alone with her in this kitchen or touching her like she’s still mine. I shouldn’t be staring into those bottomless blue eyes and asking myself what would happen if I pulled her closer. Let our bodies align the way it feels so good to do. Tip her head back until her lips part and I can sink—
“Rux, I made this for you,” Matty says, rounding the corner, his eyes lowered to the sheet of paper he’s holding in his hands.
Cammy and I step away from each other, and while I can’t wait to see what this guy made for me, I’m aching to pull her back. To slip my fingers through hers. To pull her into my chest as we look over the latest masterpiece together.
Instead, I drop into a kitchen chair and wave him over to show me what he’s done.
Instead of handing me the drawing, he smooths it out over the space on the table in front of me and starts pointing to each of us, though there’s no question who is who in this picture. I’m the guy with all the muscles holding hands with Matty and my girl. There are cupcakes and hockey sticks and Legos. And I’m dead serious when I turn to him. “I love it. This is the best picture ever. Can I keep it?”
“Yes!” he bellows, his little hands coming up beside him. “I made it for you. I have one for me too and one for Mom.”
At that, I glance up at Cammy, who gives me a shrug. “He’s been busy.”
Matty smiles down at his artwork. “This way you won’t have to miss us so much when you’re away for your games.”
Before I can do more than open my mouth, he darts off, intent on showing me something else.
Cammy slides into the chair beside me and smiles down at the picture.
“He missed you. We have about seven versions of this picture around the house right now. I think he might have even given one to Jeremy.”
Here we go. There’s no way Cammy isn’t going to tell me things have changed between them. She probably doesn’t know that Matty spilled the beans about their sleepover—and the rational part of me knows it isn’t actually any of my business anyway. But the idea that she wouldn’t tell me they were together, giving it another try, bothers me almost as much as the idea of them actually together.
Which bothers me a lot. Even though it’s not supposed to.
“I’m sure Jeremy loved that.”
Cammy cocks her head, the soft huff of her laugh confirming he did not. “At least Matty drew him into the one he got.”
I nod. Waiting.
“So tell me about your trip.”
Or I guess, she’s not.
Chapter 26
Cammy
There’s nothing wrong with Jeremy’s place. It’s a comfortable two-bedroom walk-up in Wicker Park with plenty of light, a functional kitchen, and clean bathrooms. It’s the kind of place I would have gotten for us if I didn’t have a celebrity sister who’d insisted, first, that Matty and I live with her. And then, after she moved out and married Greg, that I stay.
So it’s not the apartment, but every time I’m here I can’t wait to leave. I don’t like being in Jeremy’s space. I don’t like seeing the shelves filled with knickknacks from a life that didn’t include Matty or me. It makes me resentful, and when I’m feeling as raw as I am about Rux—
“Cammy, you okay?” Jeremy asks, shoulder propped against the wall outside Matty’s bedroom.
—I’m not sure I hide it as well as I’d like to.
“I’m fine,” I choke out, checking my watch again and wondering what’s keeping my kid. “Hey, Matty, you need some help packing up in there?”
Jeremy rubs the back of his neck and gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Cam. You’re always so organized and have him packed up ready to go when I get him at your place. I should have had him ready to go. We were just… having a good time and I guess, selfishly, I didn’t want to miss any of it by having him getting ready to go.”
“Oh. Um, okay.”
He clears his throat before meeting my eyes again. “Actually, I was kind of hoping we’d get a chance to talk anyway.”
Talk?
Now that Jeremy has all my attention, I notice the way he’s balling his hands in his jeans pockets and the sort of anxious vibe coming off him. My heart sinks.
“What is it?” Is he moving again? Leaving? Oh God, if he tells me that he’s leaving our son again when he’s only just become a part of his life. When Matty believed he was going to have an actual father—
“Cammy—” Jeremy takes a step closer, his hands coming up to my shoulders as he searches my eyes. “Hey, look at me. Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I’m asking if there’s any chance that maybe once in a while I might be able to keep Matty for more than just an overnight. If maybe we could have the second day too or even a second night.”
I shake my head, trying to clear the haze of panic enough to let the words filter through.
“No?” Jeremy asks, stricken.
“Oh, no. I mean, not no. I— I thought you were going to say something else and I—”
“You thought I was going to bail again.” He says it without judgement but there’s no mistaking the remorse in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jeremy.”
He swallows. “Don’t be. You have every reason to think that way. I’ve given it to you. And all I can do is keep on showing up and hope that with enough time you’ll be able to start believing in me again. Trusting me.”
I want to tell him I trust him already, but he’s right. I don’t. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to realize life without a kid is more his speed. For some pretty distraction to step into his life and those priorities he swears by to change again.
He can see me wrestling with what to say and squeezes my shoulder. “In time, Cammy. I’m not going anywhere. In time, you’ll see it. In time, I’ll earn back your trust.”
Taking a breath, I try to clear the moisture from my eyes. “Hey, Matty?”
“One second, Mom,” he calls back as I swing the door to his room open.
“Honey, I have a zillion errands to run this afternoon. Would you like to come with me or… hang out here today and have your dad bring you home after dinner?”
Thirty minutes later I’m parked in front of Rux’s place.
Matty was beside himself, and Jeremy’s gratitude unmistakable. I had nothing to worry about. My son’s heart was fine. Jeremy wanted more of being a parent, not less. So why do I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams?
From the second I walked out of Jeremy’s door, it was like I was on autopilot. All I wanted to do was talk to Rux. Tell him how my mind had automatically gone to Jeremy abandoning Matty again, how even finding out that quickly I’d been wrong, I’m so shaken I can hardly breathe. I want him to pull me into his arms for a hug. Even one of those half hugs would do, because what I need right now is to feel some of that unwavering strength around me.
But like a total chicken, I’ve been sitting downstairs worrying over whether I should go up. He ought to be home. Morning skate is over and the charity dinner he’s attending isn’t until seven. But as Rux pointed out, he has a lot going on. That psycho Waters keeps trashing him in one article after another, and the trade rumors are
prevalent enough now to reach even me.
Would I just be one more thing, when he already has too much?
God, I wouldn’t have even thought twice about going to him when I was upset before. And if I had, Rux would have reamed me out for being crazy. Because he was my guy. My bestie.
He said that wouldn’t change. And yeah, things might have felt a little off in a way I couldn’t quite pinpoint since last week, but maybe I needed to have a little more faith in the guy who’s never let me down.
I’m halfway out of the car when I see him and, God, it’s like I can breathe again. Like the world is right and it’s only going to get better once he pulls me in to his side.
He’s grinning, overlong hair blowing around in the wind as he holds the lobby door open. I raise my hand to wave, but stop halfway when a tall, slender brunette steps out. She’s gorgeous. Beaming beside him. And before I can even try to talk myself into a scenario where she’s just another tenant who happens to be leaving at the same time he is… she grabs his arm with both of hers and bounces as she starts walking beside him.
Her name is Danika Lennox. I didn’t even have to wait a full day to find out who she was. Didn’t have to go to Julia to find out either. All I needed to do was sit at the kitchen table and google Rux on my phone while my microwaved frozen entrée got cold.
The picture is less than an hour old, posted from the black-tie event Rux had told me about, but hadn’t mentioned he’d be taking a date to.
Rux looks amazing in his custom tux, head angled toward hers, like he’s listening intently to whatever she’s saying. And Danika looks like a total bombshell. She’s so put together with her perfect hair and makeup and dress… and a clutch so tiny, my phone wouldn’t even fit in it let alone the rest of the crap from my huge mom purse.
Why wouldn’t he have told me he had a date?
DIRTY REBOUND: A Slayers Hockey Novel Page 17