29. Darcy

CHAPTER 29

DARCY

After the game, I wait for Hayden at home, crouched behind the sofa in the dark apartment. The door opens, and I press my lips together so I don't start laughing.

"Darce?" I hear him flick the light switch back and forth, but the apartment stays dark—I've flipped the breaker so the lights don't work. "The fuck?" he mutters.

We kissed, and I can't stop thinking about it. We kissed, and we've been pretending it didn't happen. I need to show Hayden I'm not getting weird about it, that our friendship hasn't changed.

Even if it doesn't feel quite true.

" Hayden ," I rasp in a high, creepy voice.

He groans, and I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter.

" Hayden, I've been waiting for you ."

He's still trying the light switch. "You have some serious issues, Darcy."

" I'm so hungry, Hayden. "

"You're going to give me nightmares, and then I'll have to sleep in your bed every night." There's a smile in his voice. "Is that what you want? "

In the dark, behind the couch, I grin. Hayden in my bed, all warm, sleepy, and cuddly, probably only wearing boxers? I'll take it.

I turn the flashlight on, illuminating Daniel's rosy, cherub face. I stuck googly eyes on him earlier for extra drama.

" I'm hungry for blood… your blood !" I pull the string I attached to the base of the gnome so Daniel slides toward Hayden.

"Nope." I hear Hayden's fast footsteps down the hall to his room as I dissolve into laughter.

"Hayden, he just wants to say hi," I call, still shaking with laughter.

After I've turned the apartment lights on and hidden Daniel away in a closet, Hayden re-enters the kitchen.

"Congrats again on your goal," I tell him as he makes himself a smoothie. I replay Hayden skating hard toward the net with predatory focus and the look of relief and pride when he scored. "It seems like you're finding your footing with the new line."

He makes a noise of acknowledgment, swallowing a third of the smoothie. "Yep. I guess so."

"It felt good to score, didn't it?"

Our eyes meet, and for the millionth time, I think about our kiss and how his mouth felt on mine, how hard he got just from making out.

He's a sexual guy. He's used to having a lot of sex. It probably doesn't take much to make him hard, and it had nothing to do with me. Men are easily stimulated.

Fucking them has become a craving you can't ignore , he said about sex.

"Yeah, Darcy." His Adam's apple moves as he swallows, and his gaze drops to my mouth. "It felt really good. "

Heat flares in his eyes, but his usual boyish, friendly smile appears. "Thanks for coming to my game."

"You don't have to thank me when you gave me a front row ticket. Besides, I like watching hockey."

The energy of the arena, the speed at which the game moves, and the brutal competition on the ice—there's no sport like hockey. The analytical part of my brain loves to find patterns in the way players work together, in events that repeat throughout the game, like a player favoring one side or two players who play especially well together. It's probably why I keep thinking about the hockey models on my laptop.

Seeing Hayden's ear-to-ear smile after he sank the puck into the net lit me up like a sparkler, too.

My gaze moves over the broad expanse of his chest, and I can smell his body wash or deodorant. His hair is still damp from his postgame shower, and I think about how he relaxed under my fingers as I touched it. The urge to hug him courses through me, but I don't want him to think I'm getting the wrong idea. Now that I'm single and we're spending so much time together, there's an undercurrent of tension between us that I don't want to play with too much.

Last night, I swear I heard a low groan from his room. It could have been anything, probably him reacting to something on his phone, but I heard it, and every hair on my body rose as I pictured him stroking his cock.

Was he thinking about us? Was he as turned on from that kiss as I was?

No. He seems totally normal now, like it never happened, so I should be, too.

"I should get to bed," I say quickly.

"Yeah, me, too." He gives me a quick smile. "I have practice in the morning, and you have work."

"Right. Well, good night. "

"Night, Darce."

I'm crawling into bed twenty minutes later when my phone buzzes with an incoming call. Kit's photo flashes across the screen, and my heart jumps into my throat. We haven't spoken since we broke up.

It's late. Something must be wrong.

"Hey," I answer, immediately worried. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Everything's fine." The familiarity of Kit's voice tugs at something in my chest. "I just, uh, wanted to see how you were."

My pulse slows to normal. "I'm good." The reluctance in my tone is obvious. It's not an emergency, and he's calling me this late? It's midnight in Calgary. Something feels off. "What about you?"

He exhales a heavy sigh. "Missing you. I was thinking about you on Valentine's Day."

Guilt slams into me like a freight train, because except for the engagement ring, I wasn't thinking about him on Valentine's Day at all. I was too busy having fun with Hayden. My stomach hardens into a rock.

I don't know what to say. I don't miss him; I just feel relief.

"I saw a picture of you and Hayden at some party," Kit adds.

The cast party, probably. "You know Hayden." I don't mention the t-shirt I gave him that started the whole thing. "He gets invited to a lot of parties."

"Sounds like you're having fun in Vancouver."

"I am." More unease threads through me. "I'm meeting new people and trying new things." I think about when I brought up purple hair years ago, and the way he made a face like it was a bad idea. "And I dyed my hair," I lie.

"What?"

I shouldn't be testing him like this. Maybe I feel the need to give him another chance to redeem himself, not so we can get back together but so at least I can leave my anger behind. Or maybe I want to erase that bad memory with a more pleasant one.

"I dyed my hair purple." I toy with the edge of my duvet. "It's pale purple like a mermaid and I love it."

He makes a hesitant noise. "Why? I liked your hair before."

"Because…" I scramble for the words, reeling with disappointment and irritation. It's my hair, but he's making it about him. "Because I wanted to. Isn't that enough?"

He doesn't answer, and a prickle of anger and hurt pokes me deep behind my sternum. It's just a hair color, but he's making it sound like I stole a car or something.

He sighs. "When are you coming home?"

The words fall out of my head. I'm stunned. I sit there, blinking at nothing, unsure of what to say. "I'm not. I'm not coming home."

"You need to get this stuff out of your system, and I'll wait until you do, but when you're ready to come back, everything's still here for you." A beat of silence. It's like he didn't even hear what I just said. "I still can't sleep on your side of the bed."

Get this stuff out of my system? I don't want to go back to my old life. I like going shopping with Georgia and wearing pretty dresses when I go out for dinner with Hayden and learning how to be a player. Hayden makes everything carefree and fun. I'm filled with guilt over hurting Kit, but everything inside me screams that what he's saying is wrong.

I don't love him—not the way I should—but I don't know how to say that without making this so much worse .

"Maybe it's time for you to get a new bed—" I start, but Kit cuts me off.

"You want to move to a new apartment? We'll move. You want to take a trip together after the season's over? We'll go wherever you want to go, as long as we're back for training camp. Whatever you want, Darcy, it's yours."

I suck in a sharp breath. Whatever I want, as long as it works for him and his schedule and his career. Whatever I want, as long as I'm the person he wants me to be.

"No." My nails dig into my palm as I force the words out. "I meant what I said when we broke up. We're not right for each other. I need you to understand that. Please stop waiting for me." I close my eyes. I won't cry. "I'm not ready to marry you or have kids with you."

"So we don't have to do those things right away. I'll wait," he says with frustration. "I'll wait as long as you want."

"No." My face crumples, and my eyes sting. Fuck. I hate it when he doesn't listen like this. This conversation is completely one-sided. Whatever I say, he's going to believe what he wants. "I'll never be ready, and I'll never want those things with you."

The words come out louder than intended, with more force, and he's quiet for a long time on the other end of the call.

"Wow." That one word is loaded with a bitterness that makes my throat burn. "I feel like I don't even know who you are."

That's my fault, because I coasted along with the current and faded into the background of his life. I never asked for anything and I never put myself first. I let myself be the person he wanted instead of who I am.

God, this is so fucking hard. Breaking Kit's heart all over again wasn't something I was prepared to do, but I think about the way Hayden dates with full transparency and kindness, never leading someone on .

"I'm starting to date," I tell him, forcing the words out. "And I think you should, too. It's time to move on from each other."

I hear his low, unhappy laugh. "Unbelievable. I have to go. Bye, Darcy."

He ends the call, and tears spill over, streaming down my cheeks. Sobs shudder through me. My pillow is soaked, and my face is puffy and hot.

There's a soft knock at my door. "Darce? Are you okay?"

The low, gentle tone of Hayden's voice sends another wave of tears to my eyes.

"Yep," I croak, panic shooting through me. Hayden can't see me crying. "I'm fine. Just going to bed now. Good night."

He doesn't say anything, but I can sense him waiting on the other side of the door. "I'm coming in."