Chapter 41

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Ella

"Are we going to talk about the sparks between Knox and Ivy tonight?" I ask when I can breathe again.

My pants are up and Riggs has deposited me back onto my seat.

"You mean the attraction that nearly sets the room on fire anytime they're together?" he asks, leaning over to buckle my seat belt. "Or the fact that Ivy can't stand him?"

I find the energy to grin. "Both."

He straightens his clothes, cleaning up with the stack of napkins he retrieved from the glove box and used on me first. "Both," he agrees, jabbing at the button to turn on the engine again, sending warm air into the rapidly cooling interior of the SUV. "I think Knox might need a taste of his own medicine." He glances over at me, waggles his brows. "You ready to pull out those matchmaking skills?"

I wink. "I was born ready."

"Damn right, you were." A tilt of his head. "Your house or mine?"

"Yours," I tell him. "You need to pack for your road trip."

Because while he's been home this week and I've gotten to enjoy spending this time with him—even with the side of grumpy old man (who I'm starting to like despite myself)—the team has more games to play. A series of important ones that will likely determine where they'll end up for the playoffs.

"I know your wardrobe options are limited at my house," he says. "And you have a full day tomorrow. I can just get up a little early and go home to pack."

"Honey, you're going to get up earlier than five?"

He shrugs. "I'm used to sleeping all sorts of weird hours."

"But you shouldn't have to just so I can pick out a cute outfit."

He smiles then snags my hand and places it on his thigh, pressing it down lightly so that I keep it there.

That—well, all of it—this conversation, the way he's inviting me to touch him—it all hits…

Hard, maybe, but also soft.

It's a mental shock to realize how far we've come from the night in this car not all that long ago, but it's also…right? Perfect . Everything I never thought I wanted.

I love him so much.

This is so fucking great.

And…we might not work out.

He might leave.

I might fuck up in a way that can't be fixed and?—

No, dammit. I won't let that happen. I won't. I fucking?—

"Ella?"

I blink, realize that he's looking at me, that although he shifted from park to drive, he hasn't taken his foot off the brake, hasn't maneuvered onto the road.

Damn. I'm messing up, even right now.

"I'll just steal that flannel I've been eyeing of yours," I say lightly. "With these leggings"—I nod down—"and my boots, I'll be full-on lumbergirl chic."

But he doesn't bite, doesn't smile, and he doesn't look away. He just holds my gaze, his seeing far too much, I realize, when he cups my jaw, leans over to brush his lips over my forehead. "I'm here, chérie ," he says softly. "Just know that I'm here."

I clench his thigh. It's tense beneath my palm, and holding on to the strength of him, inhaling the scent of him, helps me shove down the panic eating away at my insides.

I nod. "I know."

He closes his eyes for one brief second, features softening, relief in his eyes, and then brushes his thumb over my cheek, nods once. "Good, baby."

Then he drives us back to my place.

Because, of course he does.

And when I wake up to my eight alarms in the morning, it's to find his flannel at the end of the bed, and a note on the pillow next to mine, the one that smells like Riggs.

Turns out he can write sweet nothings too.

I'll be thinking of you every moment, chérie. How can I not? My heart is half-empty when you're not with me.

"Apple fritter?"

I hear a few days later and freeze, mid-wrap of the cord around my blow dryer handle—shh, don't tell Donna, who I just lectured on not ever doing that this morning—then turn to see that Kit is standing there with a white, grease-stained bag.

My heart starts slamming against my rib cage.

His eyes slide from mine then come back. "I was…" A shrug. "Well, I had an extra and I thought it'd been a while since you had one."

That's not true.

I devoured two before I came into the salon this morning because I bought my usual extra for Kit before I remembered we aren't talking—or weren't, anyway—and they've sat in my stomach like lead all freaking day.

Now, though, with the offering up for grabs, my stomach rumbles.

He grins, shakes his head, and passes it over, slumping into the seat next to my station. "That last one was tough, huh?"

I'm here well beyond when the appointment should have finished, so late that I figured everyone else had gone home.

Everyone except for Kit, I guess.

I slump into my own chair and rub at my throbbing temples. "Yeah," I admit. My client didn't like what I did and it was a I-want-more-blond-but-now-it's-too-light, more-brown-but-now-it's-too-dark situation.

I should have known better than to change from Priscilla's usual color.

Now I've wasted hours and a shit-ton of product trying to return her hair to normal…and I've only managed to get us to a point where neither of us is happy. Not to mention, her hair needs a break, or it might be ruined permanently, so I can't take any further steps to fix the color.

She sure as shit wouldn't be happy with me—or she'd be even more un happy—if her hair broke off.

Already, she was going to have to baby those damaged strands, give them some tender loving care and wait a while before we begin again— if she even comes back.

I sigh. "I should have known better."

"You tried to warn her," Kit says, pulling another bag from somewhere and munching away on his own fritter. "And you were more than accommodating." He takes a huge bite, his next words slightly muffled. "Plus, that first color was fire, at least until she bitched about it being too light." He swallows and rolls his eyes. "She wanted more blond and you gave it to her."

I had—a gorgeous blond that was bright but not icy. I thought it made her eyes pop and didn't wash her out and was exactly what she wanted.

Apparently, the joke was on me.

"Well," he says when I just wrinkle my nose and start in on my own fritter, " I thought she looked good."

"Thanks, honey."

"I'm your biggest champion," he says, "you know that."

And suddenly, the fritter tastes like saw dust, the bite in my belly like lead all over again. "And I wasn't yours," I say softly.

Quiet falls between us.

Then he sets the bag on the counter and swivels in his chair, turning mine so he can take my hand. "You said something out of pocket, Ells." A squeeze. "You had a bad day and messed up and…ultimately, you were right." His throat bobs. "Patton was cheating on me."

"What?" I gasp, leaning forward and taking his other hand in mine, holding them both tightly. "I'm so sorry," I tell him. "What happened?"

He sighs. "I found the dating apps on his phone again, but this time I didn't let him brush me off. I made him show me and…there were messages and dates of hookups that coincided with when he went out of town for work and?—"

A tear slips down his cheek.

"Shit, honey, I'm so sorry."

"You warned me to break up with him. You knew he wasn't a good guy."

"Patton sent off my asshole detector, for sure. But I'm no genius," I blurt when his face falls. "I hurt you and Nova and I…almost screwed up things with Riggs when we were barely getting started." I nibble at the corner of my mouth. "And…I'm still fucking terrified almost every day that he'll wake up and see reason like my dad did."

Kit frowns. "Like your dad?"

My pulse speeds, but…I know there's no point in hiding it.

Not anymore.

Not if I want to be different, want to do better.

"You up for the long, painful as shit story?" I ask him. "Or the Cliff's Notes version?"

"Ells," he warns.

I squeeze his hands again. "You know he's not in my life"—Kit nods—"but you don't know what went into that because…" I sigh. "I don't talk about it. I don't like to think about it, but…it's also something that drives every decision I've made, including the shit I pulled on you."

His face gentles. "Tell me."

And so, I do.

I find the courage and I give him everything.

I tell him about my mom and the brother I never got to meet. About what my dad did afterward. About his new family and how he reacted to me at lunch with Nova.

And by the end, we're both crying.

"I was too scared to have anything meaningful before Riggs. I thought it was because I didn't want to be tied down, but really, it was fear. Fear that he'll leave like my dad did. So, I numbed myself when the wants got too hard to ignore, threw up walls when the men got too close—" I exhale in a shudder. "And…I needed someone like Riggs to make me see beyond that."

"A stubborn, quiet hockey hottie who sees right through the bullshit and goes after what he wants," Kit says.

My throat has gone tight but I manage to nod, to rasp out, "Yup."

He grins then sobers, passing me the box of tissues he stole from my station. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

I take one, wipe my eyes then pass it back so he can do the same. "I'm the one who's?—"

"—going to stop apologizing to me," Kit says more firmly than I've ever heard him speak. "Just like you're going to stop holding everything so close to your chest and keep opening up to your friends."

I crumple up the tissue. "I'm so done with tears."

"So, we'll make some happy memories instead." A pause. "Together." His mouth twitches. "And with your hockey hottie."

I snort, but, God , he's the best.

"You drive a hard bargain, Kit Monohan," I mock-grumble.

"Well, you've spent the last few weeks finding yourself." He tosses the box of tissues back onto my station. "I think I've spent them accepting what I want." He exhales, eyes coming to mine. "I want someone to love me for me."

"Kit—"

"And I want you to help me with that."

My heart rolls over in my chest.

"Will you help me with that?"

I lace my fingers together, stretch them out in front of me. "Oh, honey, I thought you'd never ask."

"Good." He picks up my fritter and hands it to me. "Now stop planning my happily ever after and eat," he orders.

"So bossy all of a sudden."

His mouth quirks. "You better watch out," he says. "Because I intend to come to my full power now that I've lost the dead weight known as Patton."

"Damn right, you do."

I pop the rest of the fritter in my mouth and stand, Kit following suit. "Speaking of that. Do you want to use those newfound powers for good?"

"You mean this isn't my villain creation story?"

I grin, but when I explain my plan to give Knox a taste of his own medicine, his eyes light up so brightly that I know he's on my side even before he declares, "I'm in."

I reach over and hug him. "I'm so glad to have you back in my life."

"Because I'm awesome." He buffs his knuckles on his shoulder.

"You really are."

He nods to the door. "Dinner?"

"How about you join the girls and me at Nova's place?"

"Watching hot hockey guys?"

I nod. "Do we do anything else?"

A wink. "Not if I can help it."

"I'll meet you at Nova's," he says. "I want to change and my clothes are at my new apartment."

I wrinkle my nose. "I hate this for you."

"Why?" he asks. "You finally helped me find my wings so I can fly." He grins. "Plus, I need to make a pit stop to pick up those special dog treats. I'm determined to get Steve to love me the mostest."

I narrow my eyes at him. "That's not even a word."

A shrug. "You're just worried you might lose your top dog spot."

"Puns." I sniff. "You're hilarious."

"Yup."He hugs me tight. "I love you."

My heart rolls over in my chest and I hug him back. "Thank you for forgiving me."

"Always."

Then he presses a kiss to my cheek and strides out the door.

And…

I've finally started to breathe again.

I can do this.

I really think I can.