9. Brady

9

Brady

" I 'm on the pill," Melanie blurts out.

My stalled heart starts beating again as she climbs off my body, my cock sliding from her slick, warm channel. "I always use a condom."

Her dress falls over her thighs as she stands, her flushed cheeks paling slightly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry, Brady."

"We both got carried away." Hell, this isn't all on her. I hold responsibility for it too.

"Yeah, but that's never happened to me before."

"Same," I tell her, not sure if that's a good thing or a bad. "You're on the pill," I mumble, mostly to myself.

"I am. It helps regulate my periods," she says, and I meet her troubled gaze as she takes a step back, stopping when her legs hit the coffee table. Dammit, I didn't mean to sound like I was challenging that, or that I didn't believe her. I stand, shove my dick back into my boxers and pull her to me.

She's stiff at first, and I rub her back. Her body softens against mine and I whisper, "It's all good." I press my mouth to her ear. "I'm clean, if you're worried about that. Like I said, I always use a condom."

"I'm clean too."

I chuckle lightly. "Dammit, now I know why that felt so incredible. Skin on skin." I'm not sure if that's the reason, though. I think it felt incredible because it was with this amazing woman.

"It was pretty nice."

I laugh, and inch back. "Nice? Nice enough that you said you never wanted to stop doing it." I take in the pink on her cheeks.

She glances away, almost sheepish. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Did you mean it?"

"Well yeah. I mean, until your pre-season kicks in."

"Right." I can't tell whether I'm relieved or not by that. The truth is I like her, and I want to keep doing it too. I just hope that I'll have worked her out of my system by the time pre-season does start. She swallows, and it sounds tortured. "Water?"

"Yes please."

I give her backside a tap. "Why don't you get started on your next chapter?"

She stretches her arms out. "I think I'll have a fast shower first. Join me?"

I laugh. "If I join you, it won't be a fast shower, and you have studying to do."

"Also, I might need to make a trip back to my place. It's possible I've run out of panties."

I grin, and reach around to my back pocket, tapping the panties I stole. "You don't need panties this weekend, Lanie."

She laughs and kisses me, and I'm happy that the tension from earlier has dissipated. Christ, not once have I forgotten to use a condom. Thank God she's on the pill, or we'd be running to the drug store. I will never bring a child into this world. I mean, what if something happened and I couldn't be there for them. Nope, not going there.

"Are you okay?" Melanie asks, and I shake off bad memories. I tap her ass again. "Let me get you a drink before you shower." I start toward the kitchen and my phone rings. The familiar chime is a reminder that I forgot to call my mother back, and that's her now. My muscles stiffen as I pick up my phone and slide my finger across the screen. I catch Melanie's curious gaze as I walk into the kitchen.

"Hey," I say as I answer.

"I've been calling." Mom's voice is a bit slurry. No doubt from all the pain meds…mixed with alcohol.

"Yeah, sorry. Been busy."

"Too busy for your own mother?"

"No, uh. Just had some things to take care of." I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and find Melanie standing in the doorway. I hand it to her and give a nod when she gazes at me, her eyes questioning if I'm okay.

"Jeez, ducky. Thought you died on me."

"No, just ah…" Melanie takes the water and disappears down the hall. "How are you feeling?" That question sets Mom off on a litany of aches and pains she's currently experiencing. "I'm going to need more money, Brady."

"What for?" I ask.

"The water heater is gone, and you know I don't have any extra cash laying around."

Naturally I'm going to give her the money, but I was sure there was a leak just last year and it was replaced. "Didn't you just replace that last year?"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, of course not." I walk to the patio and glance out at the busy beach. "How much?"

"A few thousand." Something bangs in the background and my uncle's curses come through the phone. "Your cousin Bethany needs to get some new skates for the kids." I don't answer right away, my gaze on the guy trying to windsurf with no wind, which results in Mom saying, "You know times are tight here. It's not like I'm spending it on anything frivolous. If I had any of your father's life insurance money left…"

"Carl is still out of work?" For as long as I've known Bethany's husband Carl, he's been out of work. Times are tough in Newfoundland, that's for sure.

"Not much for him here in Paradise."

"No, you're right, and kids do need new skates every year." I remember one year when I needed two new pairs. That was when I was going through a crazy growth spurt.

"You were lucky we had the money to buy them."

"True," I say, feeling guilty that I should be grateful, even though I don't feel all that lucky. Except when I'm with, Melanie. That's when I feel lucky. Shit.

I click open the patio door and swallow down the emotions before they affect my voice. I don't need to be told to stop being a pussy. "I'll send money for skates."

Down the hall the shower turns on, and I shift toward the sound. "You'll send it today?" Mom asks.

"Yeah, sure." I walk back to the kitchen to get my own water.

"You might want to throw in a couple extra thousand. The kids will need school supplies and things too, and Aunt Ester could use a few things."

I nod even though she can't see me. "Pre-season starts in a couple weeks," I say, for lack of anything else.

"You're keeping yourself fit and healthy." Her tone holds accusation, and I stand up a bit straighter.

"Of course."

"You know you can't afford to slack off, b'y. I put everything into your career."

Actually, I put everything into my career. The work, the time, the sacrifices… Dad's death paid for it, sure, but I'd rather have him alive. "Yeah."

"I'll be checking my account, then."

Her words hold closure, signifying the end of our conversation. "Okay, bye." I toss my phone onto the counter, the knot in my stomach tightening. I stand there for a second, taking a couple of deep breaths, until the sound of water running draws me toward it.

I walk down the hall, tearing my T-shirt off as I go. I'm not going to fuck Melanie again. I just want to hold her tight. The room is steamy when I enter, and since I don't want to scare her, I call out to her.

"Need a hand?"

The glass door slides open and she peeks out. "What about my studying?"

Fuck. "Right." I take a step back and she angles her head.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure, fine." I laugh and blow the whole thing off, even though my insides are still wound tight. "Just thought I could use a shower."

Silence hangs heavy for a second and then she holds her hand out to me. "Get in here, Coddy."

A crazy sense of relief washes through me. I kick my pants off and climb into the shower, letting the hot spray soothe me. I avoid her gaze. She's a smart woman, and I don't want her seeing through me. She doesn't speak, or ask me about my call, or why I'm suddenly so fucking needy. Instead, she picks up the soap, lathers her hands and twirls one finger.

I turn beneath the spray, lifting my face to the rain shower nozzle and she lathers my back. "That's nice."

"No one has ever washed your back before?"

I decide to be honest since honesty is important to her. "No. You?"

Her soft chuckle curls around me, and as it soothes my soul, I can't help but wonder why she finds that question so amusing. "No."

"How about we change that." I turn, and squirt the liquid soap into my hands. It's so odd, I was just inside her, but being here in the shower, touching her softly. I don't know…it somehow feels more intimate. What the fuck is happening to me? If I want to make it in this world, I need to remain hard and detached. If I let emotions in, it could fuck up my head and my game, and then how could I take care of those counting on me?

"Brady…"

I slowly slide my slick hands over her tiny frame, and lift her arms so I can run my fingers up her sides. She quivers as I touch her. "Yeah."

"Who were you talking to? If you don't mind me asking. If you do, you don't have to answer. I'm only asking because you seemed upset."

I slide my hands around her body and pull her against my chest. I put my mouth on the side of her neck and my breathing is rough, uneven against her flesh as I give her a soft kiss. "It was my mother."

"Okay."

We don't move, we just stay still with our bodies fused, and she doesn't press. Honestly, I'm grateful she's not digging into my past. My childhood and life back home isn't something I talk about. So why the hell am I opening my mouth, unraveling like the frayed pair of pajama shorts she wore last night? "Water heater is broken, and my cousin's kids both need new skates. They need me to send money."

Her body stiffens and I curse myself. What the hell is wrong with me? "It's nice of you to get them skates." I don't answer and she continues. "I can see why you were upset. A broken water heater is no fun."

"Nope, having no hot water is no fun at all. It'll definitely need to be fixed before it gets cold." I work to inject playfulness in my voice, though it's really fucking hard right now. "You can't be in Newfoundland in the winter with no hot water."

She mocks a shiver. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere without hot water."

I chuckle. "True."

"When I get my own place, I'm going to have the longest showers. I can't do that in my shared apartment because we run out of hot water was too fast."

I run my hands around her body, and soap her stomach. Her head falls back against my shoulder, and our bodies meld together. I put my mouth near her ear as I think about long showers. "Sounds luxurious."

"Do you want to own your own place someday?"

It's a simple, innocent question, so my stomach shouldn't be coiling like a snake about to attack. But owning my own place means one more thing I'm responsible for. That, and I'm afraid to spend the money. What if a family member needs help and I'm unable to be there for them?

"Big house on Beacon Hill," she teases. "Up there with all the other hockey players."

"Why would I want that when I can run on the beach here every morning?" She angles her head like she's not quite buying that. "Besides, I'm only one person. I'd get lost in a big place on Beacon Hill." I understand what she's hinting at, though. Noah and Brighton's family is expanding, and they're not always going to want me in the suite across the hall. I'm sure they'll be breaking down walls and renovating to make it one big place.

"You help out a lot." My brain, still processing Beacon Hill, works to catch up as she adds, "With your family back in Newfoundland. You've been the man around the house for a long time, even though it's been a long time since you've actually lived in your childhood house."

Again, another simple, innocent statement, but it hits my gut like a runaway slap shot, and I nearly bend forward. "Yeah."

"What would they do without you?"

My head drops, weighed down with worry, as my heart pounds against her back. She turns in my arms, her eyes piercing mine, searching my face with concern. This woman is far too astute for me, so I try to drag a laugh up from the pit of my stomach, but it doesn't make it to my lips.

"That's not going to happen," I push out, the seriousness and conviction in my tone startling Lanie—and myself. But Christ, it's not going to happen. Can't. While I continually tell myself that like it's law, it's what I worry about most—what keeps me up at night.

One soft palm settles on my cheek. "Brady. I'm just saying people do find a way to manage on their own. Trust me on this."

As water pours down on me, something inside me bubbles over, spills from a well that has been filling up with no relief valve to release the excess pressure, and before I can stop myself, I begin, "I had an accident." Her eyes narrow in on me as trauma from my past grips me like a tight belt around my chest and squeezes the air from my lungs. "I was just a stupid teen." I laugh as some childhood learned response forces me to do so, and I'm about to change the subject—because what the fuck am I doing—but Melanie puts both arms around me and holds tight. Jesus, her support weakens me and strengthens me at the same time, so instead of joking around, I continue. "I was sixteen. New license. Stupid kid stuff down at the abandoned quarry."

"You were hurt," she states, her voice breaking slightly, and it's that break and everything in those three words that lets me know she realizes it wasn't just the accident that hurt me.

"I banged my head on the steering wheel and blacked out."

She puts her hand on my chest, and my heart pounds against her soft palm. Her gaze says it all as she watches me carefully. She knows I've been hurt and I'm not telling the entire truth. Not being honest which is the only thing she's ever asked of me. "Brady…it's okay."

Her soft understanding tone has me uttering, "My mom had a fall that day. She was taken to the hospital by neighbors who finally found her. Everyone had tried to get a hold of me, but I had wrapped my car around a tree and my buddy and I were knocked out cold. We stayed like that until some guy out walking his dog found us and called an ambulance."

The hard quiver going through her, reverberates through me. "That's horrifying. I can't even imagine how frightened you must have been." As she speaks, I shut my eyes as painful memories explode in my brain, flashing like bright lightning on a dark rainy night. "Your buddy…was he…okay? Nothing more than getting knocked out?"

"We both had concussions, but nothing broken." As I speak, it's strange. There's a weird kind of relief inside me, the band around my chest, which has constantly constricted my lungs, has loosened a tiny bit.

"Thank God." Her hands move gently over my back. "Your mom and the neighbors must have been worried sick when they couldn't reach you."

I swallow against a painful throat. "No…my mother."

She presses a light kiss to my chest, right around the vicinity of my heart. "You said she had a fall."

"Yeah, it was a bad one. She was hanging clothes on the line, and tumbled. We live near a rocky cliff." A hard quiver grips me, and I shake. Melanie holds me tighter, her touch comforting. Honest to fuck, has anyone ever held me like this before? No, because I never would have allowed it. "I was supposed to be there for her."

Melanie inches back slightly, her arms still around me. Strands of wet hair stick to her forehead, and I pick it up and move it. "You were sixteen."

"Yeah." So, she gets it. A cold shiver wracks my body, despite the hot water pouring over me. "I was sixteen and stupid and irresponsible when I was supposed to be watching my mother. I don't know what I was thinking. I should have been home. If something worse had happened to me…"

"No wait, Brady." Her voice holds a measure of outrage that she seems to be trying to control as she shakes her head. "You were sixteen being sixteen, thinking with a sixteen-year-old brain."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have been. I was supposed to hang the laundry. After Dad died…" I swallow as the words burn in my esophagus and lodge in the back of my throat.

"Brady, you could have killed yourself and what I'm hearing is that you were in trouble because your mother had a fall, and you weren't there to help her."

"I didn't say that." At least, I don't think I did. But I could be wrong. Maybe no one caring about me that day hurt a little. Or a lot.

"You said it, just not in words." She grips my shoulders and I stiffen. "You were sixteen. Parents are responsible for their children when they're sixteen. Not vice versa." Under her breath she adds, "At least, they should be." I take in the frown on her forehead, the hurt and fury in her eyes and something tells me she's talking from experience—and not the kind learned in textbooks. "Kids shouldn't be responsible for their parents at that age and what I'm hearing, Brady, is you were in trouble for getting into a car accident and nearly killing yourself, because if you killed yourself, you wouldn't be there for your mother." I stare at her as her words bounce around inside my brain. "Do you have any idea how messed up that is?"

I come to my mother's defense. "She'd used Dad's life insurance for my hockey." Fuck, where would I be without it. Back in Newfoundland, trying to make ends meet like the rest of them.

She blinks once, twice, and looks at me like that concussion might have done more damage than I'm letting on. As we stare at one another, the water cools my already chilled body. "Speaking of hot water…we're running out."

She backs up. "Yeah, we are."

I turn around and shut off the tap before it's icy cold. I reach out and grab the big towel on the hook.

"Sorry, I didn't put one there for you. Didn't know you'd be joining me."

I shake out the towel and wrap it around my body, and pull her against me. "We can share. It's big enough for the both of us." She wiggles against me. "Lanie."

"Yeah."

We step from the shower, and I hold her tight. "Who didn't keep their promises?