10. Melanie

10

Melanie

T he sun is still high in the sky as I pour a rum and coke into a glass and take in all the patrons at the rooftop bar. My gaze slides to Brady, who is chatting with Conner, one of his closest friends on the team. I've met Conner a couple of times and he seems nice enough. He's always polite when he orders a drink and tips well. He usually hangs out with his sister-in-law, Dani. I used to think that was odd, until I learned that his brother—Dani's husband—died in a car accident a couple of years ago. Maybe they need each other and it helps the healing process.

While I have no idea what they're talking about, I do note the way Conner's gaze keeps straying to me, and the way he keeps whacking Brady and laughing like they're sharing an inside joke. Brady, however, isn't laughing and that's odd for him when he's in a crowded room. The man loves to be the center of attention. He never stands there, scrubbing a hand over his chin his eyes cast downward like he's the butt of a joke, when he's normally the joker. A strange uneasy thread of worry works its way through my body as I tear my gaze away.

"Hi Melanie," Zoe says as she and her mother come up to the bar.

I lean over the counter. "Why hello, Zoe." I smile at Gina. "Can I make you a drink?"

"I'd love a strawberry daiquiri."

"Two daiquiris coming up." I wink at her. "One virgin."

I go to work on the drinks and drop a cute umbrella into Zoe's. I step from behind the counter, hand Gina her drink and drop to my knees to give Zoe hers. Her eyes go wide with excitement and just seeing the happiness on her face fills my heart with joy, but it hurts just as much, which is probably why my conversation with Brady is jumping to the forefront of my brain. Maybe I do want kids. I just don't want to bring them into this world.

"Mommy, an umbrella!" She takes it from her drink and holds it over her head and we all giggle. That's when I feel Brady's eyes on me, and I lift my head to find him watching, all the while the guys around him are laughing and joking, but his sole focus is on me, and I momentarily forget how to breathe.

"I have something for you," Gina says.

I stand to my full height. "What, are you kidding? Why would you do that?"

"To thank you for this morning."

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a gift card.

I stare at it and read the bold lettering. The Nook.

"It's a small café. I'd love to treat you and your husband for lunch."

Husband.

My gaze strays to Brady again and I try not to sound breathless when I respond. "Oh, he's just a friend."

"Sorry, I thought…you two seemed more."

"It's okay." I see Brady turn from me when Conner puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Well, I'd like to treat you and whoever you'd like to bring, to lunch."

What's the catch? "Why would you?—"

She shrugs. "I actually inherited the place from an uncle I never knew." Her eyes go wide. "Crazy, right?" I node in agreement. "Anyway, I'm pretty new to this town and learning my way around. It's not easy meeting people when you're a single mom. I just thought?—"

"I would love to come," I tell her, understanding that the catch is she wants to meet people and possibly be friends.

"Great, I look forward to it. How much for the drinks?"

"On the house and I have a little something special for Zoe." Zoe, who is busy playing with her umbrella, stops when she hears her name. I step back behind the bar and grab the plastic bucket and shovel I picked up for her today at the gift shop. I get an employee discount, so it was pretty cheap and the smile on the little girl's face as I hand it to her…priceless.

"I love it. Fank you."

Gina rubs the top of Zoe's head and gives me a grateful smile. "That's so kind of you."

"My pleasure."

"I really look forward to seeing you at the café. Bring a friend."

"Will do."

She steps away and I go back behind the counter, nodding to one of the hockey players when he comes up and gestures to me for three beers. I pour off three draft beers and slide them to him. He pays and I wipe the counter down as more players fill the rooftop bar.

Deanna, my server for the night, drops her tray onto the bar and hands me a list with drinks. "Busy night." She turns to take in the players and a moan catches in her throat. "What do you think of Conner?"

I glance at Conner as he talks to some random girl, as Dani engages Gunther in conversation. "You like him?"

She grins at me. "He's cute."

I shrug. "I guess if you're into guys like that."

"Oh yeah, which one do you like?"

"None of them," I tell her.

"Girl, you must be made of ice because there are plenty of hotties to pick from." She arches one brow. "Maybe you should pick one, you know, to help melt that ice."

I chuckle as I fill her drink order. "I'm good."

"Maybe, but if you took one of those guys home, you'd be great." She's not wrong, and I plan to do just that, but that's my little secret. "He's not with that girl, is he?"

"Dani, you mean?"

"Is that her name?" She watches the two. "He treats her like a sister, but she barely leaves his side, especially when there are so many hot players here."

"He treats her like a sister because she's his sister-in-law."

"Ah, okay." With a little extra wiggle in her hips, she walks away with her tray and I smile as the guys all slap each other on the back, and I have to say I do enjoy their comradery. This has become a popular spot for them all to hang out since Noah bought the place and I don't hate it, because all the tips are going to help pay for next semester.

A loud laugh that's very familiar curls around me and I lift my gaze and spot Brady, Conner and Gunther all joking—the random girl is now chatting with Theo. Once again, the guys keep casting glances my way. What the hell are they talking about now, and why—although Brady is laughing along—does whatever they're saying seems to be rubbing him the wrong way? I can tell by his body language that something isn't sitting well with him.

I grab the ice and try not to think about whatever it is they're talking about, because really, it's not my business. I just hope the inside joke isn't about me, although I don't know why it would be. I don't think Brady is the kind of guy to kiss and tell, and now that I've gotten to know him better, I can see a whole new side to him. The man is tortured, has far too many demons for a guy his age, and has people in his life who've been taking advantage of him for far too long.

I swallow down my own pain as I consider the way I dismissed his question after our shower today. He opened up to me, told me something very private about his past, and I simply shut him down. Yeah, I used my studying as an excuse, and he backed right off, because he knows college is important to me. Still, my brush off had to sting a bit, after he shared a big part of his life with me.

The problem is, though, Brady can't see what's going on in his own backyard, so to speak. I get that he wants to help his family and that's admirable. If you ask me, and no one really is, I'd say hockey was money in the bank for his family. An investment in Brady so he could continue to take care of them all into the future. I didn't say that to him, of course. I didn't want to hurt him.

Soon enough, it's dark out, the setting sun sending the kids home for the night, and now the adults are pouring onto the rooftop. Phones are pulled from pockets and pool bags as guests want their pictures taken with the guys, and the single girls, and not so single ones, are all over the guys. I turn my head and try not to let it bother me. It shouldn't bother me. I've seen enough of it since Noah bought the resort. I wasn't, however, banging and poking with Brady until now. I really have no right to be jealous. He's not mine. I'm not his. We're simply playing house until the end of the weekend and while we said we'd do this until he went off to the pre-season, I'm sure once I find my own place, that plan will be out the window. That's probably for the best.

The tiki lights around me light up, as well as the lights in the pool as a man walks up to the bar and orders a beer. I pour him a draft as he smiles at me, grinning the whole time. I slide it to him. "Here you go."

He adjusts his hat, and that's when I place him. He gestures with a nod over his shoulder. "I knew it was Brady Fisher."

I chuckle. "He does stand out, doesn't he?"

"People are getting their pictures with him. Do you think he'd mind? He didn't seem to want the attention this afternoon."

This afternoon he was with me…and was quite different from the showboat he's presenting tonight.

I grin, liking that he wanted our time together to be private and real, where he wasn't loud and obnoxious. Maybe that's why this man didn't recognize him at first. "Looks like he's enjoying himself over there. I'm sure he won't mind at all."

"I still owe him twenty."

I nod, somewhat surprised, but maybe not so surprised at all. He can't very well walk up and ask for a picture when he owes money. There's always a catch.

He takes his drink and leaves me a tip. I pocket it. "Thanks, and enjoy your evening."

He saunters over to Brady, who doesn't seem surprised to see him at all. I laugh. While the man is constantly taken advantage of, he still has faith in mankind and I don't know if that's a good thing or a na?ve thing. All I know is that I don't ever plan to be duped again.

Brady lifts his head and catches my eyes, and he has a smirk on his face and I just shake my head in response. He goes back to the pictures, having fun, and I go back to bartending. About thirty minutes later, he saunters up to the bar, a crisp twenty in his hand.

He snaps it. "See, not everyone breaks their promises."

"Guess not." I keep my opinion on it to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I pour him a beer and slide it across the bar. "Hey, I saw the smile on Zoe's face when you gave her the umbrella. That was pretty cute."

"Yeah, she really liked it." I pull the card from my pocket. "Look what Gina gave me." I hold it out and he takes it. "It's a gift card to her café," I explain. "Apparently, she's new here and inherited a café. I'm curious to check it out."

"That was really nice of her."

I grab a rag and wipe a dripping tap. "She's looking for new friends."

He angles his head. "You think that's why she invited you?"

"That, or for helping her daughter out."

He goes quiet for a moment, and I can almost feel him trying to tunnel into my brain. "You think everything has a catch, a price attached, don't you?"

I laugh, but it's cool and bitter. "Are you saying it doesn't?"

He holds out the twenty-dollar bill again. "He paid me back. Didn't break his promise."

"He did take lots of pictures with you."

"Lots of people do. Doesn't mean they want anything from me. They're just happy to get pictures with the players they love." I make a snorting noise and he continues. "Not everything has a catch, Lanie."

"Whatever you say, Coddy." I laugh and add, "She thought you were my husband." I take a fast look at his face to gauge his reaction, and when his brows pull together, I laugh and add, "Ludicrous, right?"

"Yeah, ludicrous," he agrees and suddenly it doesn't sound so funny anymore.

"Coddy, get over here. We're going to do cannon balls," Theo bellows.

Jaw tight, face sober and unamused, he murmurs, "Jesus."

"Not into cannon balls?" I ask.

He grunts. "That guy gets on my nerves."

"I'm pretty sure it was just last month you were the ringleader for cannon balls." My words instantly trigger a reaction in him. His face changes from serious and reflective to jovial, and playful.

"Yeah, maybe too much sun today. Nothing that a beer can't fix." He picks up his beer and I expect him to down it, but instead he takes a sip and walks away. He reaches his friends and sets his beer on a table, forgotten, and goes to the end of the pool and does a cannon ball. I chuckle as everyone watching yells as he splashes them.

He surfaces and bets his friends that they can't make a bigger splash and I just shake my head at his antics. Fun and loud Brady. Everything I've seen over the last couple of months and have come to expect from him. But is it, though, Melanie ? As that question fills me with more questions, my mind goes back to the softness about this man, the seriousness in his body, his face and actions when he says or does certain things. Hell, he couldn't hide that seriousness when he talked about his family. At one point, I thought he was going to break down, and maybe that's exactly what he needs.

The night drones on, and soon enough it's closing time, and the guests make their way to their rooms or their vehicles to drive home. I catch a glimpse of Brady, some girl wrapped all around him as he practically carries her drunk ass down the stairs.

I try to push down my apprehension as I remind myself we're not exclusive. We said we'd bang and poke until the pre-season. We didn't say that we wouldn't see other people. Honestly though, I'm not sure I want that. I can't be with a man when he's also with other people. As my stomach sinks into my toes, Deanna drops her tray onto the counter.

"This place is a mess."

"You go on home, I'll clean up." Her eyes practically bulge out of her head.

"Are you serious?"

I nod, needing time alone with my thoughts, and the strange ache in my chest. That ache is there because I know what I have to do—end it with Brady. I can't be doing this bang and poke with him when he's with other women.

Is that the real reason, girl?

Okay, maybe I can't do it because I'm beginning to really like him—especially the side he presents to me when we're alone.

Deanna is quick to take me up on my offer. She leaves, and I shut and lock the gate leading to the rooftop and begin to clean up.

I pick up empty drink glasses and a few that are still full, like the one Brady left on the table after I poured it for him. Maybe he doesn't like beer. I usually see him with one in his hand. I never stopped to think if he was drinking it or not. Legs tired and needing to get to bed early so I can bus back to my place tomorrow—I really hope my roommate's boyfriend is gone—I finish cleaning up.

Once I'm done, I untie my apron and toss it over my shoulder. I snatch up my purse from under the counter and walk toward the gate as the quiet of the night, along with the surf far below wraps around my shaky soul. I reach the gate and when I see a big, dark figure on the other side, I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Hey, it's just me," Brady says quickly, his voice is soft, full of comfort, and my insides settle.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, as he stands outside the latched gate, heat and strength radiating from him.

His eyes fixate on my mouth and I wet my lips. "Thought I'd walk you home." Beneath the moonlight I catch his sexy grin and unwanted emotions sweep through me. God, I could lose myself in this man if I'm not careful. My gaze strays to his mouth, dying for his lips to claim me again. That's when I remember the girl who was snaked around him earlier.

"Didn't you already walk someone home?" Dammit, I didn't mean to sound so petty and jealous. The last thing I want is for him to think I'm falling for him.

Amusement dances on his face. "Sounds like someone is jealous."

I glance down, and run my fingers through my hair, pushing the loose strands from my forehead. "Brady, I can't?—"

"I can't either," he responds quickly, cutting me off as my gaze flies back to his, to take in the dead seriousness.

"You can't what?"

"I can't be with another girl when I have a woman like you in my bed. I want to be with you and only you. I want to take you to my bed…want to take care of you, Lanie." He squares his shoulder with intent, and there's nothing about his body language that suggests he's joking. I really truly love this side of him. Like. I mean I really truly like this quiet, almost nurturing side of him. I swallow the lump in my throat as he continues. "She was drunk. All I did was make sure she got home safely. I'm sure they assumed I took her home and fucked her, but she was drunk, and I don't do drunk girls. Even if she wasn't drunk, Lanie. I wanted to be back here with you."

A bubble of happiness hugs me. "Oh."

He pokes his chest before pointing at me through the gate. "You and me. Until the pre-season. No one else."

"Okay," I manage to get out.

"Now are you going to open this gate and let me take you home?"

"I'm quite capable of finding my own way home. I've been taking care of myself for a very long time now."

"I know, but…"

"What's the catch, Coddy?" I grin, knowing the catch is he wants me in his bed, and I want that too.

He glances around. "Bad neighborhood."

It's not. We both know it, but I do love this protective side of him. As his warmth envelops me, I tease, "Maybe just bad neighbor ."

"Hey, I resent that," he teases.

"Why, maybe I like bad." I open the gate and let him in. He closes it behind him and his big presence overwhelms me as he pulls me to his body. His warm scent fills my senses and as I breathe him in, he dips his head and kisses me. I moan into his mouth, loving the taste of him.

"You want bad tonight, Lanie?"

Moaning something unintelligible, I sway into his touch, and my body warms as his erection presses hard against me. I kind of love how fast this man gets aroused around me. Who am I to talk? I'm burning from the inside out. His hand slides down my body and cups my ass. He gives it a squeeze as the automatic lights in the pool turn off for the night. Darkness envelops us, and all kinds of wicked ideas bounce around inside my brain—like getting him naked here at the rooftop pool and having my way with him.

Yes, it's true. We had sex earlier, but this has easily become my addiction. I want more, and I want it now. Oh girl, you need to be careful.

"I'm not used to people waiting for me," I whisper, actually loving that he came here to walk me home as a strange new closeness to this man fills every cell in my body.

His snort is full of derision. "And here I am completely used to people waiting for me. Everywhere. All the time."

My chest tightens, another hint of jealousy I shouldn't be feeling creeping in and squeezing like an invisible band. Until I realize he's most likely talking about his family, who all seem to count on him. While he might be loud and the life of the party, he never had a real childhood and I'm guessing he acts out now to make up for it. Either that or he's loud at parties simply to hide who he really is, what he's really feeling. My heart lurches at that thought. Is that what's going on?

Does Brady Fisher hide his emotions behind a shield of sarcasm and jokes? I'm not sure. But I do know that beneath the layers, there's real softness there, and that he's way more in control of himself and his life here in Boston than he lets on. Honestly, the man is a conundrum, one for the textbooks, for sure.

"I guess we're different like that," he murmurs.

"We might have more in common than you think."

"That's right, we both have roommates who fuck like bunnies." His laugh is light, and it eases some of the tension inside me.

"Right. Mine bangs like bricks in a dryer," I agree, even though I'm talking about our upbringing. Sure, he was raised in Newfoundland without a father and a needy family. I was raised here in Boston with a mother and father, but hell, they were needy too. How would he know that? I totally shut down when he straight up asked who didn't keep their promises to me. I owe him an apology. Right now, however, I think there's something else he might want from me—and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it too.

"What was that you said about fucking like bunnies?" I ask coyly, and step away from him, backing up until I'm in the dark shadows.

"I don't think we can hold it against them. If we had a place together, we'd fuck like bunnies and drive everyone out, too."

The rooftop goes silent, his words hovering in the air as I envision the two of us cohabitating. Even though everything about it goes against what I want, a place of my own, and no commitment. Heck, I know people only want me when they want something from me. Yet, despite all that, the idea doesn't upset me. In fact, it sort of excites me.

He's not suggesting you get a place together, Melanie, so get it together.

"Hey, where did you go?" he asks playfully, nothing in his voice to suggest he wanted to cohabitate. Dammit, what is wrong with me.

"Marco…"