Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ZACH

Me

Just me hoping and praying my house is still gray and white and not pink…

Rocket

Unfortunately, yes.

Phew.

How's Whistler?

It's okay. Good to see the boys.

The temptation to tell her I miss her, to lay it on the line and tell her I'm struggling to keep away, pulls my fingers across the keyboard. But no sooner am I typing the words do I hit delete. Being away from her for a week is nothing compared to the months apart we'd face when I'm back in Seattle and on the road, and she's back at work.

I think I might have most of the interior painted and finished for you when you get back.

You have been busy. I might give you some time off as a reward for being a good girl.

Oh yeah? No idea what I'd do with my free time.

I can think of a couple things…

You do keep me very busy. I don't have much else to keep me occupied though.

"Texting Luna?" I look up to find Jon walking through the door and dumping his key card down on the hotel bed.

"Yep."

"Man, she's got you all caught up."

I raise a brow and ignore him. He can talk.

I was suggesting time off, not time away from me.

Oh. Well in that case, I'll gladly accept some vacation time.

Destination being my bed.

Funnily enough that's where I am right now.

Jesus. My cock instantly hardens. She's staying over rather than going back home. The thought of her in my bed while I'm away feels like something we'd do if she were mine and there weren't thousands of miles between us.

Think you can stay there for the next eight hours while I fly back?

Tempting…but I need to get some sleep so I can be up early to take my car to the garage.

My eyebrows pull together. What?

Why? What's happened?

Ugh, she's broken down on me again. Third time this year.

I'm back in two days. I can look at her for you. Sounds like it's a recurring problem.

You know about cars?

Studied engineering at college, baby. Plus, I like to mess around with engines. Seriously, if you can wait, let me sort it for you, and in the meantime, use my truck. My keys are on the counter in the kitchen.

Why are you so sweet to me?

Because you turned my life around. You make me smile.

Only to you. And I'm just fixing your car and lending you mine. I can be far sweeter than that.

Oh, I know ;-)

"Are you taking Luna to the gala next month?" Jon breaks me out of my trance.

I close out the text thread with Luna and head straight to order and replace the tools I know I donated when I moved to Seattle but will need to fix her car.

"I haven't mentioned it to her yet. Why?" But the thought of taking her as my date to the annual Hockey Now gala appeals. A lot. Her in a hot-as-fuck dress, pressed against me all night. Supporting me while I make the public speech I dread so much.

Jon types something into his phone. "Because Felicity wants to meet her."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You told her about Luna?"

He shrugs. "It's only a matter of time between you two. I'm just helping things along."

"You told her that Luna is my girlfriend?" Saying it out loud is far less daunting than I thought it would be.

"No. I just told her what I told you. That she's the one."

I drag my hands down my face. For fuck's sake. Reformed playboy turned hopeless romantic matchmaker. "You do know it's rare to meet your soulmate, let alone it be the first woman you actually date. Most of us never meet the one, if she even exists at all."

"Call it what you want, Zach. Just don't piss my wife off. I said you'd be taking her, and she's excited."

I quirk a brow from behind my hands and eye him. "Wife?"

He smiles sweetly. "For all intents and purposes, yes. Plus, I'm kind of addicted to saying it."

"So let me get this straight." Jon leans back in the large booth of the bar we've been sitting in for the past three hours, slowly getting trashed. It's the final night in Whistler, and we all planned to go out, have some drinks, and then turn in for an early night.

A couple of beers turned into a few, and from nowhere, two bottles of tequila appeared along with two brunettes and a blonde. I can't say I'm surprised it's played out this way, but I am shocked to see none of the girls sitting on Jensen's lap.

"So, you've never fucked in public?" Jon announces.

Our starting forward, Jessie, takes a sip of his beer and shrugs. "Nope. We're not all playboys."

Jon shoots him a pointed glare. "Was."

"Sorry, bro—was," he replies and half winces.

My alcohol-hazed brain is half tuned into the conversation and half focused on the uncomfortable way Jensen is shifting in his seat, staring down at his phone. He's been quieter than usual this entire week, and that's not hard to notice since, normally, you can hear him from anywhere. But tonight, I can tell something is off, and as soon as the conversation turns to weddings, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

I'm sitting at the edge of the booth, so I grab my beer and walk around until I'm on Jensen's side, taking a seat on the vacant chair beside him. I don't think the brunette currently perched on our rookie defenseman's cock will be needing it.

"What's going on, buddy?"

I look down at his phone right when he swipes out the screen and closes down a picture of a blonde. I don't get a good look at her, but I can tell he doesn't want me to see.

"I just hate today."

Confusion must be written all over my face. "What have you got against riding the gondolas and getting wasted with your friends?

He runs a hand through his glossy, black hair. "No, not today . The date. I fucking hate the date ."

I definitely look confused. "July sixteenth?"

He pockets his phone and grabs another shot, downing it in one. "Yeah."

I want to ask more, and just as I open my mouth to do exactly that, the brunette whose seat I stole decides she wants it back and slides onto my lap. Her blonde friend joins Jensen on his.

"He's taken!" Jon shouts from across the table, tipping his glass at the chick running her nails over my chest. My best friend's eyes are ablaze as he shouts again. "He's fucking taken!"

"And I'm not in the mood," Jensen adds, standing straight up from his chair, the blonde almost falling from his lap and onto the floor. "I'm calling it. I'll see you in the morning." He points to the rookie defenseman he's been sharing a room with. "And I don't want any unwelcome guests tonight." He turns and strides off, thrusting the bar door open with a flat palm.

I want to go after him, but first I need to peel my very unwelcome visitor from my lap. The thought of any woman other than Luna touching me makes me feel nauseous. "He's right. I'm taken." A lie, but it's a useful card to play, nonetheless.

She turns her head to me. "What? I thought you and that blonde influencer were history. She played away, right?"

Oh fuck off. I push my chair out and mimic Jensen's earlier move as I stand to my feet and push her off me like her presence is burning my skin. She might as well be, as an unbearable sensation creeps through me, clawing at my insides. Shame, humiliation, anger, and irritation. "You know nothing about my life. Now get the fuck off me." My voice is cutting and harsh as I spit out my response. I know I've overreacted, but there's only so much I can take. That shit stings.

"Zach, man. You, okay?" I hear Jon call as I make for the exit as quickly as I can.

"Fine. I'm going back to the hotel too," I reply over my shoulder. Then I'm heading back to the safety of Florida but mainly a pair of coffee-colored eyes.