“You didn’t need to do that. But thank you,” he replied.
And then we both stood there awkwardly, neither moving but unsure what to say. Everything we did say made us sound like broken records.
“I thought—” I started, but then I cut myself off, because I wasn’t sure how to proceed. “You wanted to see my tattoo,” I finally finished. “Maybe I could…show you. If you still want to see it.”
“I did. I do.”
But he was carrying my wet clothes and still wearing some of his own, dripping water all over the floor. He hadn’t had a chance to clean off and warm up yet.
I was an idiot for suggesting it now. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Bad timing.”
“Later. After I get Snoopy dry and Carter in bed.”
“And you need to dry off and warm up, yourself, too.”
“I do.” He passed his gaze over me, as if taking a mental inventory of everything, scanning to see if I’d hurt myself or gotten sick from being wet and cold, or any number of other things.
But maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe he was looking at me in a different manner altogether, and I was just having difficulty accepting it even if it was the very thing I wanted.
Regardless, his plan seemed altogether more reasonable, so I nodded and slipped past him into my bedroom, gently closing the door behind me.
The warm bathrobe was absolute perfection. I wrapped myself in it and sank onto the mattress to warm up for a few minutes. But those few minutes were too exquisite and far too indulgent for me to want them to end. It would be entirely too easy to stay exactly like this for hours if I allowed myself.
But I couldn’t do that, even if the thought was tempting. I had to start being responsible for myself again at some point. I put on my brace, in an effort to act like an adult and so I wouldn’t forget about it and accidentally hurt myself, but then I lay back against the pillows and halfway dozed off. Before I was ready, Ethan was knocking on my door and I still hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Come in,” I called, tugging on the robe to be sure I was covered.
He poked his head through and raised a brow. “Thought you would’ve gotten into your pj’s by now.” While he hadn’t had a chance to shower yet, he’d changed into dry clothes.
“Seemed like too much effort,” I joked. I sat up and patted the mattress in invitation. “But I haven’t rebandaged the tattoo yet, so now’s a good time for you to see it. I need to put some of that stuff on it that Ravyn sent home with me, anyway.”
“I think that’s still out in the car. I can go get it for you.”
“Not yet,” I said. I reached out a hand to stop him.
He cautiously took my hand, and the heat was enough to set my body on fire. But finally, he sat beside me.
The entire bed seemed to dip under his weight, and I almost toppled over onto him. I put my hands out to catch myself, and they landed on his chest and biceps. His muscles almost rippled beneath my touch. He still smelled like the rain, only it had combined with his natural scent to become something heady and addictive. Something I wanted to melt against.
“Sorry,” I said.
But he just helped me straighten myself up again, his massive hand lingering on my forearm before he seemed sure I could sit up on my own. “Don’t be,” he murmured. “I’m not.”
I raised a brow in question.
“Gave me an excuse to touch you without coming across like a jackass or a creeper.”
“You don’t need an excuse to touch me.”
He closed his eyes, and I could almost feel his inaudible groan vibrating the mattress. “I didn’t come in here to touch you,” he said quietly.
“I know you didn’t.”
“You’re killing me.”
“But would you, though?” I asked, despite my hesitance to put the suggestion out there. Everything had been so good between us. I didn’t want to screw that up, but I’d already initiated a change in our relationship tonight when I’d kissed him.
We couldn’t go back in time. I didn’t want to go back, either. I wanted to keep exploring this, wherever it took us, whatever it meant.
He let out an almost pained sound, his eyes still closed.
“When I’m ready,” I clarified. I reached for his hand and threaded my fingers through his, and he finally looked at me again, dark and serious and tortured. “Not right now. Not right away. But would you touch me if I asked you to?”
“I’d do anything you asked of me.”
I had to bite my lower lip to stop myself from asking him for too much too soon. Because, while I might be ready for a few kisses, and I might want to feel his strong hands on my skin, I knew I needed more time to heal.
Not just physically—emotionally.
As part of my outpatient rehab, they’d started sending me to a support group and some private counseling to help me process the emotional aspects of my trauma. I’d only scratched the surface of all the internal healing I needed to do. At the same time, I recognized that in order to truly come to terms with everything I’d been through, I would have to gather up the courage to move forward.
This was part of my recovery. Ethan was part of my recovery. So were Carter and Snoopy, and all the WAGs who’d stood by my side.
But trusting a man, accepting his touch and moving into a physical, emotional relationship again—that was one more step I needed to take if I ever wanted to be free of Hayes. And I wanted that more than I could say, even though I knew it wouldn’t happen overnight. Someday. With a lot of work and any amount of luck, it might be someday soon.
But however soon or distant that aspect of my healing might be, I needed time.
Ethan seemed willing to give me all that I required.
The only problem was, I wasn’t sure I’d be so willing to wait.
I bit my lower lip and looked down at my lap to avoid the combination of heat and gentleness in his stare, because I wasn’t sure what to do with them. But then I untied the belt of the robe and cautiously opened it so that he could see the ink on my lower abdomen, just above my left hip, cautiously keeping my private bits covered. “It’s still healing, but—”
“It’s gorgeous,” Ethan cut in. “It’s perfect.” He trailed a single finger along the curve of my hip, as if tracing the pattern even though he wasn’t close enough to make contact with the design itself.
That slight connection made every nerve ending in my body go haywire.
I wanted more.
The texture of his eyes turned dark and needy, matching the ache building inside me.
“Ethan?” I said, both hesitant and demanding.
His eyes shot up to meet mine, his finger still resting gently just inside the curve of my hipbone.
“Will you kiss me?”
He answered with strong hands gently capturing the sides of my face, skilled fingers diving into my still-damp hair, and hungry lips softly moving cautiously over mine. I reached up and grabbed hold of his wrists to brace myself, my breath floating away as readily as my heart.
Just when I felt I might explode from wanting more, he slid his tongue along the crease of my lips, requesting entry. I opened and welcomed him in with a whimper of need, leaning back against the pillows and dragging him with me until his large body almost completely covered mine.
I wanted that contact, his weight pressing me into the mattress, but he held himself above me, teeth and lips and tongue almost our only contact.
“Touch me,” I pleaded, breaking away for air.
“You have no idea how much I want to,” he said, but I was pretty sure he was wrong about that. I had every idea if he felt anything like I did right now. But still, he wouldn’t put his hands on me.
I’d never desired anything more than the sensation of those big hands on my body. I knew he’d be gentle. I knew he’d be everything Hayes wasn’t.
“Please, Ethan.”
I slid one of my hands down his powerful arm, trying to guide his hand to where I wanted it, but he would
n’t budge.
“This is too fast,” he said. “Too soon. You’re not ready.”
And even though I knew he was right, even though rushing into any sort of a physical relationship was the last thing on earth I should be doing, I didn’t want to believe it.
“You said you’d give me anything I asked you for,” I reminded him, “as long as it was something you could give me. You said it had to start with me. Well, I’m trying to start it. I’m trying to tell you what I want. What I need. I need you,” I finished, somehow getting it all out without my words turning into a strangled sob.
Ethan resettled his weight on the bed, his hands still locked in my hair, and he gently nudged me until I rolled over beside him, the length of his body warming mine. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, to the tip of my nose, to the bridge of my forehead between my eyebrows. “It was the truth then, and it’s still true now,” he finally said. “I’ll give you anything I can if it’s in my power to give it to you. And I can’t even begin to tell you how bad I want you—to touch you, to be with you, to show you what it ought to be like when you’re with a decent man. But I’m begging you to slow down.”
“I don’t want to slow down.”
“I know you don’t. But I want to build something that can last with you. And I need to be sure you’re ready for that.”
Even though one part of me deflated in frustration, another part of me melted inside.
Ethan was exactly what I needed. Even if he was making me crazy with wanting him.
KEEPING MY HANDS to myself around Natalie, the way I’d promised I’d do, might actually kill me. Especially now that Carter was on a flight back home to be with his mother, so Snoopy was the only potential road block remaining.
Other than my own conscience, at least. Which meant that my conscience was the only road block, because Snoopy didn’t want to get between us unless it meant getting snuggles from both of us at once. It would be way too easy to just close a door and leave Snoopy on the other side of it.
And since I now knew that Natalie wanted to take things between us to another level, possibly even as much as I did, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to hold out. Yes, I knew she needed more time. She recognized it, too, if she slowed down for long enough to think things through.
She had started speaking with a trauma therapist and a sexual assault counselor in her biweekly rehab sessions at the hospital, at least, so she had other people who could help her recognize that she might be getting in over her head. But even with counseling and therapy, it was still so soon for Natalie to be thinking about jumping into a physical relationship with anyone.
I was afraid she was just walking into the first open arms she could find, and they happened to be mine.
Now, if she needed me to be her rebound, I’d do it in a heartbeat—I’d be whatever she wanted me to be. But if that was what happened between us, if I was nothing more than the guy she felt safe enough with to get her mojo back, it’d be hell on me when she moved on.
Because I wanted this to be more. I was falling for her, and I was falling hard.
Maybe the guys were right and I was just a big softie, someone who picked up random strays and took them home with me.
I’d done it with Snoopy, after all. He and I were kindred spirits.
And in a way, Natalie and I were kindred spirits, too. I didn’t think this connection I felt with her was solely because I’d been through an experience similar to what she’d been through, though. There was something bigger between the two of us. Something that ran deeper than the surface. We both felt it, and that had to be what had drawn her to seek out a physical component to our relationship.
If I ended up with a broken heart, so be it. I was an adult; I could take it. After all I’d been through, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I could deal with whatever life threw at me. I was strong enough that I could take a metaphorical beating easily as well as I could take a physical one, and still get up and move on with my life.
It’d rip me to shreds for a while if Natalie wanted to move on—maybe a very long while—but I’d survive it.
The problem was, I didn’t want to survive it. Not if it meant watching Natalie walk away, once the danger had been dealt with, once she had healed both physically and emotionally.
It might be more than I cared to handle. I’d do it, though.
She could use me for whatever she needed me for, and then I’d let her go. I had to, or I’d be no better than Lennon and his friends, no better than my own father. So even if it ripped out my heart to let her walk away, I’d do it.
With even a smidge of luck, I wouldn’t have to face that fear.
I just had to stand my ground about not jumping into bed with her so soon. I wasn’t sure how I could be certain when she was ready, but I knew it wasn’t now.
We had a game tonight against the Red Wings. I’d already taken my pregame nap and was starting to get ready to head up to the arena when my phone buzzed with a text message.
Carter: Mrs. K said play good 2nite but not too good cuz the Wings need to do better this year.
Mrs. Kuchner, otherwise known as Mrs. K, was Carter’s second-grade teacher this year. I chuckled to myself and shot off a response.
Me: Tell Mrs. K that the Wings can survive a loss this early in the season. We’re going to try to win.
Carter: She said you can beat every1 else, just not the Wings.
Me: I can make no promises.
Carter: Just let Larkin score a goal, kay? He’s her favrite.
Me: Not sure Hunter will agree to that, but I’ll see what I can do.
He seemed to find that answer acceptable, because he let it drop. But I had no intention of asking Hunter to let in any goals, regardless of who was shooting them.
Natalie was just coming back from rehab when I headed out into the living room. She had Tallie and Harper accompanying her. Harper ran straight over to Snoopy and hugged him around the neck. Good thing that dog loved being loved. He licked her face and they collapsed together onto the floor to roll around; she giggled and he barked like a loon.
Tallie shot her eyes skyward and shook her head.
“Maybe you should get her a puppy of her own,” I suggested.
“Hunter wants to get her a baby brother or baby sister of her own. I think we’ll start there.”
“Dogs are easier than kids,” I pointed out.
“True. But kids eventually deal with their own poop. Dogs just like to eat it.”
“They don’t all eat poop. Snoopy doesn’t,” I said, laughing, but my eyes were on Natalie.
She headed for the kitchen. When she came back a moment later, she set a bottle of water on the coffee table before propping her crutches against the side of the couch and settling in. “I would’ve offered to bring some for everyone, but I only have so many hands.”
“We can all get our own,” I replied.
With a shy nod, she took a moment to situate a pillow under her broken leg, then finally leaned back and relaxed.
“You need me for anything else right now?” Tallie asked.
“You’ve already done more than enough,” Natalie said, shaking her head.
“London’s picking you up later for the game?”
“Yes, I’m riding in with London and Erik.”
“Then I’ll see you tonight.” Tallie extracted her daughter from climbing all over Snoopy, and a moment later, they were gone.
Snoopy watched out one of the front windows, barking when the car backed out of the driveway. Then he rushed back into the living room and jumped onto the couch next to Natalie, draping his head across her lap.
Damn if I didn’t want to do exactly the same thing.
Especially when she stroked his head, almost absentmindedly. In no time, his tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and he rolled onto his back with his belly in the air, his tail wagging between his legs, and she automatically started rubbing his belly.
Yeah, I’d be toast if she stroked
me that way. Lucky fucking dog.
“What?” she asked, dragging me out of my stupor.
I shot my gaze up to meet her eyes, finding an unanticipated heat there. “Just thinking about you touching me like that,” I admitted.
“You’re the one who said we have to wait.”
“I know it. Doesn’t mean I don’t want it, though.”
Natalie bit her lower lip and looked down at my kid’s dog, putting even more effort into rubbing his belly. His back legs started doing an out-of-control shimmy-shake, which meant she’d found exactly the right spot.
“He’ll love you forever if you keep rubbing him exactly like that for the next hour or two,” I said.
“What about you?” Natalie’s eyes flashed over to meet mine for just a second before focusing on Snoopy again. “Would you love me forever if I rubbed you a certain way?”
She didn’t need to rub me for that to happen.
TO MY FRUSTRATION, Mrs. K got her wish two times over by halfway through the third period. Larkin and his linemates were already spilling over the boards again; he was on the hunt for a hat trick.
Prince and I needed to get off the ice for a line change, but the Wings had us trapped in our own defensive zone. Every time we thought we were going to clear out the puck for long enough to dive over the boards and get some fresh legs on the ice, the Wings’ D somehow got it past our forwards and back into our defensive zone before even a single one of my teammates could get off for a change.
Larkin skated straight for the net, but one of his linemates had the puck and headed for the corner with it. Prince followed that guy, trying to knock the puck free, so I stayed in front of Hunter at the net, doing everything I legally could to get Larkin away from my goaltender.
No matter how many times I shoved his body, the fucker kept coming back like an annoying gnat. I pushed him hard in the back, finally getting him to move a few inches away from my goaltender’s crease.
He shifted to the side, calling me a few choice words.
I whacked at his ankles with the blade of my stick.
Rain Dance (Tulsa Thunderbirds Book 5) Page 14