Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

FORREST

Before I even open my eyes, I know I'm alone, and she's gone. I should be surprised, but I'm not. I could see it clearly written on her face last night. She was going to do what she thought was right, what she thought she needed to do.

And that's fine.

She isn't confident in me yet, in the fact that I can fix this.

That's okay, too.

But I'm going to prove to her that I fucking got this and got her. I'm going to fix it all in a way where there is no doubt to the world how I feel about her and how I do not feel about Kiki. My parents will probably never give me my inheritance. They'll probably donate it all when they die, too.

I'm okay with that. I've come to terms with it and am ready to start living my life how I want to. I am ready to be a man and take on my own responsibilities instead of just waiting for my check to appear.

I'm over being entitled. I worked hard for my career, and I should take pride in myself. I haven't for a long time. I've done what I needed to do for hockey, but the rest of my world has been on hold, waiting for that money.

What a stupid way to live. I was so blinded by what I thought was owed to me that I let my life become stagnant. I didn't take the same care with my finances and my personal life as I did with playing hockey, and it shows.

Instead of running after her the way I want to, I decide to take care of this shit first. Calling Coach Burns, I tell him my idea and ask for any advice he has. I know Coach isn't the most caring person in the world when it comes to anyone's personal life, but what he gives a shit about is his players and his team.

"I need the name of a publicist to help me with this," I state.

He knows basically what has happened, and he agrees that I need to do something. Otherwise, it's going to get ugly. And when he says ugly, he means for the Fury, not for me. He couldn't really give a fuck less about my personal life.

"I'll have someone contact you immediately."

Coach ends the call.

Forcing myself up, I shower and get ready for the day. We have a light practice this afternoon before we play tonight. I need to get in the mindset of game time. I need to get a plan in place, so I don't have to stress about any of this shit anymore and feel more confident to deflect anything that comes flying my way.

And deflect, I am going to need to do, because I cannot get ejected a second time, and since we're playing these Colorado assholes again, I'm going to need all I have inside of me to stay fucking calm.

When I walk downstairs, I'm not surprised to find Alexei sitting on the sofa, remote in his hand as he watches something on the television. He doesn't even turn to face me, but I know he senses me.

"You good?" he asks.

I'm not sure exactly what he knows, but it's probably enough that I won't have to go into painstaking detail with him. Not that he would make me anyway. Passing the back of the couch, I clear my throat as I make my way into the kitchen.

"As good as I can be. Brooklynn left."

"And?" he asks.

He knows there is more to it than her leaving and me letting her go. "I'll be getting her back as soon as all this shit with my parents and the social media parade with Kiki is handled."

"Good," he grunts. "Ayden sent me a text about how she is trying to get the girls to buy her out of the salon and said she wouldn't be coming back to live with them either."

I almost laugh, only because I knew that's what she was going to do. I didn't expect her to do it all immediately, but then again, that's Brooklynn. She doesn't do anything half-assed, and she doesn't sit around when she's made a decision.

Before I can respond, my cell phone rings and the number isn't one that I recognize, which makes me think it's the publicist.

"Westwood," I say as my greeting.

"Forrest Westwood," a woman's voice calls out. "This is Elizabeth Persson. I researched your little issue, which is kind of a big issue, but I think we may be able to get you out on the other side."

That is all I needed to hear.

Coming out of this with Brooklynn by my side is all I could ever ask for or want.

brOOKLYNN

There is a knock on the bedroom door, and as much as I want to tell the person on the other side to go away, I don't. Mainly because I'm in my parents' house and it's either my mother or my father. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I surmise that it's likely my mother since it's so late in the morning that, without a doubt, my dad would already be at work.

Bringing the sheet and comforter to my chest, I call out for the person on the other side to come on in. There's no hiding from my parents. I love them, but they are always in my face about everything, not in a bad way, but in a loving, smothering way. It's why I don't live at home.

It's the burden of being an only child, I guess. Not bad, not good, just the way it goes. So I moved away for cosmetology school and then moved into the house with the girls instead of coming home.

Maybe I should have come home. At least if I had, my life wouldn't be in shambles the way it is right now. I wouldn't have met this beautiful man. I wouldn't have fallen in love with him, and I wouldn't have had some selfish bitch try and ruin everything I worked my whole life for.

The door slowly opens, and I expect to see my mother standing on the other side, but instead, it's Grace, Karlie, June, Ayden, and Sky. They move through the door as if they are a single unit, even though they have to squish through.

It's a sight to see.

Then they all stop at the side of the bed, lined up, their chins tipped and their eyes narrowed as they stare down at me. A throat clears, but I have no idea whose it is. Sitting up, I rest my back against the headboard before I bring my knees to my chest.

Resting my chin on my knees, I study my friends. They are all waiting for me to say something. They're not saying a word, watching and waiting. Then I let out a heavy sigh and close my eyes.

"It's for the best."

"Fuck that," Ayden snaps. "You aren't leaving the salon, and you aren't leaving us."

"Unless it's for Forrest. That would be the only acceptable reason to move out," Karlie states.

I shake my head, and my eyes fill with tears again. They are too good to me, far too good. I can't do this, though. I can't just accept this. As much as I want to go back to the salon, back to our home, I also know that it's best I don't.

Pressing my lips together, I try to figure out how to tell them that isn't going to happen. The words don't want to come, though. In fact, no words want to come.

Instead, I want to run away again.

"Brooklynn," Ayden whispers. "You're not leaving us. We won't let you."

"I have to. There is no way to protect the salon from these crazy-ass people. I don't want you guys to lose business because of me."

Karlie clears her throat, then leans down and places her palms on the mattress, her face shifting close to mine. I stare at her, my eyes wide and my lips parted. "You aren't going anywhere, Brooklynn. If someone doesn't want to come to our salon, then that's their problem, not yours."

"But—"

"No," Ayden snaps. "No buts at all. Fuck that. We are not buying you out. We are not letting you leave. If you want to take a few months off as a sabbatical, that's fine. But you are not leaving."

Her words and tone are full of so much conviction that I want to do exactly what she says I'm going to do. I don't want to fight her. She believes that a sabbatical is going to fix this, but it won't.

We aren't going to agree on any of this right now. So, instead of dragging this out and fighting with these women, who are all incredibly kind and generous, I smile at her and jerk my chin in a little nod.

"Two months," I murmur. "In two months, if I still want to sell my share, will you guys buy me out?"

The women all swap glances, and Karlie clears her throat. She is the one who speaks first. When she does, I can tell she's upset at my actions, upset that I ran. It makes me think about Forrest and how he tried to tell me not to run.

Yet I did just that.

"You won't want to sell in two months," Karlie states.

And that is that.

They are convinced that I won't be selling in two months, but I know better. Kiki isn't going to stop. She isn't going to stop because she's getting more attention than she probably ever has in her life. People are kissing her ass—feeling sorry for her.

She's loving every second of ruining my life.

Every.

Single.

Second.