13. Facing the Fears

THIRTEEN

FACING THE FEARS

KRIS

C onsider Valentine’s Day ruined for me forever.

I saunter out of the cabin, with my jacket slung over my shoulder. The sun stings my eyes, shining way too brightly as I make my way out to the car. Underfoot, the snow crunches. The packed powder weighs the trees down, and the roads are clear.

None of it matters.

Forget skiing. All I want to do is curl into a ball until I have to report to practice on Wednesday.

Something is off.

I usually leave my one-night stands feeling energized; sex can do that to me. I know I give a good time to the ladies. Leaving them with a smile and not a care in the world is my Heartbreaker claim to fame.

That’s who I am. Or was. Who am I? I crash against the car door, my heart lurching like it’s been crushed by Bailey with her bare hands.

She broke me.

Never in a million years would I have expected my move to Portland would result in running into her, much less to share what we’ve shared over the past twenty-four hours. We faced so much together, and along the way I…fell for her.

Jeez. This can’t be.

I run a hand through my hair and pace. If only I had my stick and puck in hand to help me think.

When I first laid eyes on Bailey, her beauty struck me—was it love at first sight? I never believed in that sort of thing. Never. But how else to explain the ache in my chest?

She said she doesn’t want a relationship, though. Fear made me, like a fool, go along with it. Like her jerk-off ex, I didn’t stay to fight. I took the cowardly way out she served to me on a platter instead of staying and fighting for something that was feeling pretty damn good between us.

Wait. What if this is a test?

Bailey said her ex didn’t fight for her. She admitted she fears another man will come along and cheat on her with her cousins. If she believes I cheated on Tia, she won’t give me a chance.

Standing in the sunshine stewing about it, everything becomes crystal clear. I’m convinced. She’s the one afraid to take things between us to the next level, but is it too late?

I might have one more trick up my sleeve.

Like I’m struck with Cupid’s arrow, I haul ass back through the cabin door she hasn’t come out of yet. Her head snaps to me from her seated position on the bed, unmistakably with wet cheeks from tears, which she tries to cover up and swipe away. So vulnerable and broken, I want to fix her.

“What are you doing?” I march right up in front of her and ask.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.” She gets up, but I pull her into my chest.

“No. I mean, why are you letting me take the easy way out the door?”

She shakes her head. “What?”

“You knew exactly what you were doing, giving me the whole we-both-don’t-want-a-relationship speech. But here’s the thing, Irish. What if I do?”

“Y-you don’t mean that. You’re a hockey star. A playboy.”

“The Heartbreaker. Yeah, I know. That’s who I was. Not anymore. Guess who is the heartbreaker today? You. You know how I know? Because I walked out that door and felt crushed. Like you’d opened a hole in my heart and inserted yourself inside of it, then squeezed it from the inside out.” I pound my chest for effect.

“What are you saying? What do you want, Kris?”

“Like it or not, Irish, you’re in there now. And I’m not letting you go. I’m going to fight for us and for this. So what I need you to do is put away your fears and fight with me.”

Tears stream from her eyes, forcing the green even brighter. “Do you mean?—”

I brush her tears with my thumbs and cup her face.“That I think I’m falling for you and want to give this relationship a try? Yes.”

“None of this makes any sense. We just met,” she retorts.

“Agreed, but does it have to make sense? Our brains are hard-wired to fit our lives into orderly boxes. But it’s Valentine’s. The one time of the year when maybe we should let our hearts lead the way. This entire weekend has been crazy, I know. Come on, Irish. Let’s be crazy together and take this ride, see where it goes.”

She hesitates and shakes her head, squirming out of my hold. “I’m not sure I can.” She walks into the kitchenette, and, after dabbing her eyes with a paper towel, she rinses out coffee mugs and the coffeepot in the sink.

I’ll keep fighting until I get my way. I come up directly behind her. My chin rests on her head, and my arms circle her waist. Time to use my wild card.

“The thing is, Bailey… I know what Tia and her manager did to me. He set me up, paid one of my teammates I hated most to drug my drinks after we won a game in Vancouver and partied hard after. The guy had been hanging out with this chick earlier in the evening, and the next day those photographs surfaced of me walking into the hotel with her.”

“You knew? That’s what I’ve been wanting to tell you.” She dries her hands and turns in my arms to face me. In her worried eyes, a million questions form. I wouldn’t expect anything less from reporter Bailey Scott, the journalist with an inquisitive mind.

“About two weeks after you broke up with Tia, one of my sources approached me and claimed he knew the photo was staged. I brought it to my editor’s attention, and that’s when he fired me, claiming I lacked integrity. He accused me of knowing it was staged all along, practically insinuating that I had been the mastermind behind the photo myself. He claimed I dared damage the Buzz’s reputation by printing false information. I tried to hire a lawyer for wrongful termination, but I couldn’t get anyone to touch the case. Not even my family of lawyers cared enough to bother with it.”

Hearing they didn’t support her kills me. I’ll deal with the Scott clan another time. Right now, I need her to know I’m here for her one hundred percent and not going anywhere.

“I was so numb from the shock of it all, I froze. I should have reached out to you and tried to tell you, Kris.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Irish. But you have to believe me. I’m certain nothing happened in that hotel room. I woke up alone and fully clothed, nothing out of place. But the damage was done. When you printed the photo in your paper the next day, Tia blew everything out of proportion, the drama queen at her best. And you painted me as the devil nonstop in your articles.”

“I’m so sorry, Kris.”

“I know, babe. You were just as much as a victim in this. By the time I put two and two together and beat the truth out of my teammate, he sang like a bird. He confirmed that was all Tia wanted. Just a suggestion of impropriety in that photo. Enough to cause our breakup, and for her to gain even more notoriety.”

I still cannot believe I fell for that back then. To this day, I keep a hold of my drinks when I’m out, or I don’t drink at all.

When we first met, she wasn’t yet an A-list actress. I think once she got together with an athlete like me, she saw me as a way to get ahead. We became the ‘it’ couple, and her a media darling, especially when you picked up the ball and started reporting about us nonstop, both the good and the bad. You were a decent writer, too, Bailey. You even had Tia and me reading your regular column about us. But when the end of our relationship was dragged out in your articles, and you vilified me, yeah, it pissed me off at first. I thought Tia was it for me, had a proposal ready and a ring. The photo ended it between us with Tia refusing to work things out, believing that I’d cheated.”

I pace away a few feet away, rubbing the back of my neck with both hands.

“What a coincidence that she landed her breakout role in a huge budget movie shortly after all of that happened. Then she marries her manager? You see, Irish, they played us. You and me both. Tia and her manager controlled the narrative. Did you know he was also the nephew of your editor at the Buzz? I found that out later. I’m sure he probably influenced you to some degree on what you could print.”

“Oh, God. He did.” She gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. “I had an editor’s meeting with him daily to discuss the latest developments in your relationship that I could gather from my sources. He would suggest things we could print or research. I just thought he was being a helpful, caring boss.”

“Yeah. Helping his nephew marry Tia and make her an A-list star so they could rake in the money.”

“Kris, this isn’t fair. We have to do something about this. Go public with our story. ” She implores, squeezing my arms.

“No, we don’t. What would be the point of it?”

“Righting all the wrong that they caused. The return of our integrity and reputations.”

“Hey, stop. We don’t have to do a thing. I fully believe karma will come back to bite Tia. Did you see the lackluster reviews on her latest movie? And as for the rest, I know who I am. What other people think of me doesn’t matter as long as I’m living my truth and working hard on the ice to be the best I can be.”

“And who am I? A failed reporter who got blacklisted unfairly. They ruined my career.” She folds her arms and sinks back against the counter. “I don’t think I can be quiet about this.”

We’re silent for a moment, and I wonder if this was such a good idea. I wanted her to know everything, thinking that would help her get over her fears and believe me when I saw I hadn’t cheated, so we’d have a fighting chance to create something good out of all of this mess. It might have backfired.

“Bailey, I-I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I don’t want to face it without you.”

“Really?” She returns to me, embracing me tightly.

“We’ll figure this out somehow and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you and your career. But please give up your fears and launch into the unknown with me. I think things could be amazing between us.”

“What if it isn’t?”

“I have to believe it will be as long as we hold on to each other. Like one of those stories—against all odds, we’ll prevail.”

“Oh, Kris. I love those stories.” Her hand clutches her heart.

“I know you do.”

“I want that for us.” She jumps on me, wrapping her legs around my back and kisses me allover. At certain prime points of my hockey career, my hands have been called blessed by the gods with the way I maneuver my stick and a puck down the ice to shoot winning goals. Standing here holding her sweet ass up, consider them blessed once again. “I can’t believe this, but yes, yes, yes, I’ll fight for us, Kris. I never expected this would happen when I won you at the bachelor auction.”

The auction seems like forever ago. When I remove time from the equation, I’m so comfortable with Bailey in my arms, like she’s right where she is meant to be with me. So time doesn’t matter.

We crash onto the bed together in a flurry of passionate kisses. My cock hardens, yearning for instant satisfaction now that he knows what it’s like to slide into the wet depths of her tight pussy. I bring her on top of me and gather her dress in my hands.

“More, Irish. I need you again.” I growl, claiming complete possession of her. Then I groan. “But we used all the condoms I brought last night.”

She straddles me, biting her lip, seducing me with her half-lidded eyes. Her fingers attack my belt and pants. “I’m on the pill, but I have a better idea.”

“What do you have in mind? And we better make it fast because our time is almost up. Mal will probably come beat down our door like the motel police, forcing us out.”

“We still have a couple of things from the gift basket to use, and I’m hungry.” She shoves down my boxers and pants and frees my cock. Then she retrieves the jar of chocolate body sauce from the bedside table. “Breakfast time.”

“Irish, you naughty girl,” I tease. I want to tell her again how much she’s come to mean to me in such a short time, but my words die the minute her slender hands spread the sauce slick down my cock. She angles it toward her lips, licking me tip to root and back. With her eyes trained on me, she laps up every drop of the sauce, stroking, humming, and moaning. I’m close to the edge and breathless.

“You’re such a good girl . Like that sauce?”

“Not quite as good as Bailey’s. I wonder if they make a jar of it in that flavor?” Her tongue darts out through her sly smile, swirling around my crown, then she takes it all, deep throating every inch of me.

My hands cup her head, and I take over, guiding my cock in and out of her glorious mouth faster until my vision blurs; all I see is her and us and more times like these. I come hard with the only name I need on my lips. “Bailey. Fuck, Bailey.”

My chest heaves, while she milks me for every drop and swallows. Okay. New plan. Buy her tires for her car. Find a way to make a chocolate sauce in Bailey’s favorite flavor.

She rests on top of me, her hair cascading over my arm, my fingers stroking her smooth back. A satisfied smile hasn’t left my face yet.

“Enjoy that?” She purrs.

“Yes, Irish. All of it. Best Valentine’s ever.”