Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

GRACE

Lying in bed, I stare at the ceiling and go over every single detail of my date. It was perfect, and much to my chagrin, it is not the one and only date we'll have. I don't know why I thought I could just be one and done with him. I should have known the second his lips touched mine that I was done for.

Because I am.

Rolling onto my side, I stare at the closed window, knowing that it faces him—Otto. I don't know what it is about him. I feel like a giddy preteen and a nervous one at that. The way his hand felt, touching me.

The way his lips felt against my skin. I thought I was going to pass out at any given moment. But I'm keeping something huge from him. I almost told him tonight, confessed who my father is.

I also almost told him about Hayze—about what happened to me, about what I allowed to happen. I hate myself for it, and I probably always will. I can't see myself ever forgiving, let alone forgetting, what I allowed to happen.

It's too much drama, though. I am too much drama. I should ignore any more advances. I should tell him that I don't want to date anyone at all.

That I need to focus on myself.

That I need to heal. I need to lie.

Because there is no way I can let this go on. I'll have to tell him the truth. He's going to find out sooner or later.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I frown, rolling to the other side to reach for the device. Smiling at the sight of the name on the screen, along with the face, I let out a sigh before I slide my thumb across and hold it to my ear.

"Hello," I whisper.

I don't know why I'm whispering. I can't hear anything from any of my roommates. I don't know how this house is insulated, but they must have paid extra for it because I can't hear anything, ever.

"I didn't wake you?" he asks.

"No. I can't sleep," I confess.

There is a moment of silence. Then I hear his warm laugh. "Me either, honey. Needed to hear your voice."

It's my turn to laugh softly. "But I only left you a few hours ago," I say.

He hums. "Yeah, I have a feeling that one minute is too long without you."

God, my heart. It swells and almost bursts at his words. Closing my eyes, I listen to his voice as he talks. It's melodic, deep and thick, rough and smooth all at the same time. I imagine what it would feel like to listen to him speak with my ear against his chest.

"You're very good at this, you know?"

"Good at what?" he asks.

"The dating, the sweet talk."

Otto bursts out in laughter. "You know, that is the first time anyone has ever said I'm sweet about anything, even my mother."

"You have a mother?" I ask, knowing that he does, at least somewhere, and I want more information about her.

And for the next few hours, until we both grow heavy-lidded and fall asleep, our phone still pressed against our ears, we talk. Otto tells me about his parents, who live in Canada. He does indeed have a mother. His parents are married and have been for thirty years. That causes my heart to crack. He speaks of them so fondly, and I don't have that, so I listen to him instead—intently.

What feels like seconds later, my alarm sounds. Sitting straight up, I look down at my phone that's still in my hand. The call has ended, of course, although I don't know when. Then I notice that I have a new notification. A text. And it's from Otto.

OTTO: GLAD I GOT TO FALL ASLEEP BESIDE YOU. I CAN'T WAIT TO DO IT IN REAL LIFE.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I can't hide my smile as my fingers move over my phone, and I text him back.

I can't wait either.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I straighten myself and make my way to the bathroom to get ready for work. I don't know how I'm going to be in that salon all day long with those girls and not gush about my evening with Otto. I don't need to make a big deal about this—but I want to.

I want to shout it from the rooftops, but I'm still so conflicted about my father's role in all of this and what it could mean.

I'm not sure if my father would care that much, but it would really make things awkward for Otto. I don't think he'd like that, especially with how much he loves the game—this is his whole life.

It's better my father doesn't know… maybe not ever.

OTTO

Coach screams my name.

" Larsson ."

His entire face turns bright red, almost purple, and I know I've fucked up. After staying up all night talking to Grace, I am dragging serious ass today. I don't blame Coach for screaming at me.

Skating over to him, I stop when I'm a few feet away. His purple face greets me, and I hold my breath, waiting for what he's about to say. I already know I'm not going to like it, but I decide I can't be a smart-ass or say anything back to him. I have to take whatever he dishes.

"What the fuck position do you play?" he asks.

"Defenseman," I mumble just loud enough he can hear me.

He bends at the waist, leaning over slightly, his eyes focused on mine, and I swear to fuck they look like they're going to actually pop out of his eye sockets.

"Then fucking defend something, you motherfucker ," he shouts at the top of his lungs.

I bite back the laugh because I swear to fuck, at this exact moment, he looks like a fucking cartoon character. Instead of laughing in his face about it, I dip my chin, mumble yes, Coach , and turn my back to him.

Smiling, I jerk my chin, lifting it toward Reid. His eyes widen, no doubt having heard the entire exchange. He's probably happy that the focus is on me. Last season, he was the one who got all of the coach's anger. He's also the one who was distracted by a woman, his woman—Lorelai.

Seems to be par for the course. Go after woman—get distracted. Settle down with said woman—win in more than one aspect of life. I'm at the distracted part right now. Mainly because my dick is completely lost and wishing it were somewhere else.

But I'm here, practicing. It used to be my absolute favorite place to be. The ice, the rink, the sweat. All of it was exactly where I wanted to be, and I hated to leave. But today, I want to go right now. I want to get the fuck out of here and find Grace.

The rest of practice goes decently well. Coach barks at me the entire time, and I do my best not to let him piss me off as he does. I'm sure I'm not doing my best, even if it feels like it. I know I'm distracted, but I'm also not going to tell him that I am or why. He'd hand me my ass if I did.

"Get the fuck out of here," he growls, which signals the end of practice.

We make our way toward the locker room, and as soon as I'm inside, I strip out of my gear and head to the showers. It doesn't take me long to shower and towel off. Making my way toward my locker, I grab my clothes and tug them on, rubbing the towel back and forth in an attempt to dry my hair.

"You gonna tell me about her?" Thomas asks.

I think about harassing him with the fact that he kept his whole relationship with June a secret until they were practically living together and confessing their undying love for one another or some shit.

"What do you need to know?" I ask as I button my jeans at the hips.

Thomas doesn't speak right away. Pausing, I look over at him, arching a brow as I wait for him to tell me what he expects me to say. He smirks at me, then shakes his head from side to side.

"Holy fucking shit," he says with a chuckle. "You're in love."

I stare at him in silence. I don't know what to say or how to say it. Because I don't know her well enough to know what it is, but I can't keep her out of my head. I can't keep her taste from my lips, and I haven't even had all of her yet.

I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do when I've finally been inside of Grace. How am I going to cope with living life every day, not in bed beside her? It seems an impossible task.

I'm not sure I could ever walk away from her if she were naked in my bed.

I'm not sure I would even try.

I've never felt this way before. I don't know how Reid and Thomas do it. How do they walk out of their houses every fucking morning knowing that their women are right there? All I want to do is be with Grace, and I haven't even been inside of her yet.