Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LUNA

W ow.

Zach's place is crazy. Coming away from my tiny town and arriving in Seattle is change enough, but this, this is so much more. He even has his own frickin' elevator.

His entire penthouse apartment is a huge open-plan expanse of monochrome and solid dark wooden flooring. I've never once considered how much money Zach makes, beyond what's thrust in my face by the media. Standing here though, I realize why certain women come after him in the way they do. But in their pursuit of his fortune, they miss everything that truly makes him rich: his kind and beautiful heart.

"All okay, Rocket?" Zach emerges from the hallway, where he took my suitcase and put it in one of his spare bedrooms.

"Yeah." I grip the strap of my purse tightly, feeling slightly overwhelmed as I glance out of the vast floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown Seattle.

"Hey, it's just me." He comes to stand in front of me, running his calloused palms over my shoulders.

I tip my chin up at him and smile. "I know. I just...I don't know what I was expecting, but this is. Wow, Zach. You really did good."

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine, my body pulsing with need at his proximity. "I know what we said on the plane, but I really want to take you to bed."

My heart skips. I want it too, so badly. "I can't."

Slowly, he nods against me. "I know. I just need to be honest; this is killing me too. More than you could imagine."

Maybe coming to Seattle was a mistake for both of us. Attending the gala is one thing, but staying in his apartment like this can only lead to more than both of us can handle. "I can stay in a hotel if it makes it easier?"

He balks. "No. Don't talk crazy. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Placing a gentle kiss on my hairline, he pulls away and strides to his kitchen. "Hungry?"

"Not really. I'm going to go unpack and take off my travel clothes."

I'm not sure you could call this a spare room since it's as lavish as the rest of Zach's apartment. The huge king-size bed is adorned in crisp, expensive white bedding, and the white wooden bed frame is modern and sleek. The ensuite bathroom is just as impressive, with a spa tub that could swallow my entire place whole.

Zach shouts through from the kitchen. "How about we watch a movie? I have some game footage from last season I need to go over, but I can do that while you're out with the girls tomorrow."

I unzip my hoodie and step out of my sneakers, which I realize I should've taken off at the door, but I was kind of distracted. "Hmmm, well that depends on what type of movies you're into. I'm not about to invest two hours of my life that I can never get back on some terrible comedy."

He comes into view and leans against the door frame, and as he crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps bulge against the fabric of his sleek shirt.

Not helping.

"You don't like comedies?"

"I said I don't like bad comedies."

" The Hangover ?"

I tap my chin. "Passable."

He pushes off the doorframe and takes a step toward me, his arms still crossed over his chest. " Step Brothers ?"

"Oh yeah, that's a good one."

" Bridesmaids ?"

I screw my face up. "Nah, there's better out there."

He's only a couple of feet away from me when he bends down to my height, a smirk spread across his gorgeous, tanned face. "Just a side note for future reference. Never, ever, say that in front of my best friend."

"Why?"

"He claims there's no finer movie that's ever been made, and he really means it."

I snicker, walking over to my case to begin unpacking.

As I push back the lid, Zach's mouth hangs open at the way I've rammed everything in. "Woman, have you packed for four nights or four weeks?"

I begin unloading everything but the kitchen sink. "I started overthinking what I needed. For example, what do I wear tomorrow when I'm out with Kate and Felicity? Then there were the shoes to go with the dress I somehow need to afford for this gala. So, I packed all my favorite heels, hoping at least one pair will match what I choose."

"You didn't need to worry about that."

"Oh, trust me, I did. There's no way I'm bringing this event down." I begin hurriedly searching through my bag. The anxiety over being Zach's date and all the eyes on us sends me into a small panic. I'm used to the quiet, secluded life. That's my comfort zone.

"Luna, you could turn up in a trash bag, and you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the room."

I flush but continue inspecting the contents of my bag. "I highly doubt that."

"And you really don't need to worry about buying a dress and shoes. Anything you want, I'm taking care of it."

I lift my head up to tell him absolutely not. But he's already disappeared. A minute or so later, he returns, his black leather wallet in hand. "Here, take my credit card. Buy whatever you want. Buy twenty dresses and a million pairs of shoes. It's yours."

He holds out his black AMEX, an expectant look on his face. "Zach, I can't take this. I refuse to spend your money."

He takes my hand and puts his card in my palm. "Take it. Let me treat you."

I slip the card into the front pocket of his jeans. "No. Thank you, and truly, it's really kind. But I've always had my own money and got by on what I have. I'm not about to start riding on yours."

"You can be really stubborn sometimes, you know that?"

"And it's one of my best qualities." I wave a hand in front of me. "Now, I need to put away my panties in private."

"When do you start back for pre-season training?"

Zach is sitting on the opposite end of the couch, stretched out with his arms folded behind his head, looking every bit incredible. He could've at least passed up the gray sweatpants. It's taking everything in me to focus on Step Brothers and not casually stare at him.

"Light conditioning starts tomorrow. I'll get a couple of hours in the gym with my trainer."

"I've always imagined it's quite scary, you know—ice skating."

Holding his arm outstretched, he pauses the movie and prods me lightly with his foot. "You mean to tell me you've never been on the ice?"

I shake my head. "Nope, why would I?"

He shrugs. "True. I just automatically assume everyone has been ice skating."

"Do you enjoy what you do?"

Zach turns his head to look at me, his eyes narrowing in thought. "At thirty-one, I'm starting to feel it more physically. After-game care is becoming more important, and recovery is taking longer. Taking that hit last year has set me back, but how much I don't know."

I cock my head slightly to the side. "But you're all healed now, right?"

He shifts, and I can tell he's uncomfortable, but not physically. "It's hard to explain."

I look down at my bare wrist, checking my non-existent watch. "I've got time. Four days to be precise."

He chuckles and sits up straighter. "I've never taken a board like that. I've been hit hard before, and I've been in more fights than…you know I've been in a lot of fights."

I mimic his movements and sit up straight. "You're worried about the effect it's had on you mentally?"

He scratches at his chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners in thought. "Maybe. He could've easily killed me. The way I hit the boards, I was lucky it didn't break my neck."

I haven't seen the footage. I couldn't. When I heard how potentially serious it was, I called every hospital in downtown Manhattan I could think of, desperate to get an update on his condition. In the end, I had to rely on news outlets and social media to keep me in the loop. As soon as I knew he was awake, I couldn't get to my phone quick enough to call him and check he was okay.

"I know," I say in a hushed tone.

"We play not really thinking how dangerous our sport is, but that day kind of brought it home. I want a life after my career. I'm expected to walk back onto the team and pick up from where I left off—throwing my weight around and protecting others. But you're right with what you said, Luna."

"What's that?"

He draws in a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Who's got my back out there?"

I have.

"Jon's your best friend and the captain. Maybe you should talk with him. Tell him how you feel."

He scoffs. "Once the stoic hardass Zach Evans—now scared shitless of the ice."

"Well, that pisses me off," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Why?"

"Just this ongoing need men have to pretend like everything's okay when it's not. If it's bothering you, then say something. It doesn't mean you're any weaker or less than. If anything, it shows your strength."

Zach's eyes soften against the glow of the still TV, and his handsome face visibly relaxes, almost like it's what he needed to hear. Maybe validation or simply an understanding ear. "You're so fucking special, Luna. You know that?"

It feels like my entire body liquefies.

Brushing off the deep meaning, I circle my face with my finger. "Not just a pretty face!" I pull the thick blanket Zach got me up under my chin. I'm not cold, but somehow, it feels like a shield from all the thoughts I know I can't have. "Talk to Jon tomorrow."

Zach hits play on the movie. "You going to share that blanket?"

Lifting the corner up to invite him to join me, I know I'm treading on dangerous ground. We both are. "If I must."

The couch is huge, so when Zach slides in behind me, propped up on one arm to watch the TV, every muscle tightens. He's not pressed against me, but I feel the way his warm body radiates through mine. I can smell his heady scent. He exhales slowly, and his breath caresses the nape of my neck, sending tingles all the way down to my toes.

I was the one who took a step back from being physical, but I don't think either of us has successfully switched off our feelings. I know Zach will never touch me again unless I ask him to. Instead, we'll walk the tightrope between friends and lovers until one of us breaks, or—and as sick as this makes me feel—he falls in love. And if that day ever comes, which it probably will, I know I'll have to take a step back from him altogether.

The thing is, from now until that time, I'm powerless to resist him. Even from very different worlds and nearly three thousand miles away.