Chapter 21

Polly

A fter being railed beneath the stars, I slept so soundly and woke so late there was no time to visit Mum at the hospital. My no-show was another layer of guilt added to the already crippling load.

No matter which way I looked at it, it all boiled down to one hard-to-swallow, bitter truth. Luca and I were over before we could begin. The glorious, mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasms he handed out like candy weren’t enough. I knew it as he fucked me to next Monday on the hood of my car, and I knew it as I dragged my sorry ass into the shower after calling mum to apologize.

This was bigger than us. Friendships … families were at stake.

Elias–my husband to be–would be arriving within hours and my mother would never forgive me for my treason. And if the Austen-Myers crew ever found out what Luca and I had done, he would lose his friends, resent me, and likely be forced to leave the country, which , I reminded myself , he was always going to do.

Even if some glass slipper, horse-drawn pumpkin-providing fairy turned up and magicked all that away, I was still me. Still bound to fuck things up.

After showering, dressing, and giving myself a stern talking to in the mirror, I went in search of Dad, the brief blanket of happiness Luca’s touch provided disintegrating on every step.

As suspected, I found him at his favorite spot in the main bar that overlooked the garden and his prized greenhouse. Soaking up the sun, he was smiling at the coffee mug in his hand. I soon saw why. Printed on the side was a photo of a bloody maidenhair fern and a cursive font that on closer inspection read, You Maiden my day . “God, Dad. Where’d you dig that one up?”

His smile didn’t shift as he glanced at me then back to the cup. “That fellow, you know, the tall one you tried to convince me was a fern lover. The one with lipstick all over his neck.”

A deep blush bloomed from my toes, spreading to the tips of my ears in a heartbeat. “Luca?”

“Yeah, Luca. He dropped it off this morning while you were still asleep. He said he found it at the farmers market and thought of me. Well, technically, he said he thought of you and then changed it to me. Nice bloke, that.”

Be still my cold, lifeless heart. “Luca brought you that? This morning? While I was sleeping?”

Dad chuckled as he took a sip of his tea. “He did. He likes you, Plop. And judging by the color on your cheeks, I’d say the feeling is mutual.” Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing with Elias? We can still call it off, you know. Holly can leave him at the airport for all I care. Or maybe we could make a few accusatory calls to immigration and get him deported before he ever leaves the plane.”

“Dad! That’s horrible,” I laughed. “And they say I’m trouble!”

“You are my dear, but you’re also smiling, and I think that Luca fellow is responsible for that. I don’t want your mum to pressure you into something that you don’t want.”

“I do like him, Dad,” I replied, my honesty surprising even myself. “But it doesn’t matter. He’s only here on holiday. Once he’s back in the States, he’ll never think of me again.”

“Then he’s a fool. One that doesn’t deserve you.”

“You may be right on both counts, sir.” My heart dropped into my gut as the man in question appeared before us, dimples popping, his hands twisted behind his back.

Dad snapped me out of the stunned trance his appearance dropped me into with a chuckle and light pat of my hand. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he whispered, placing another kiss on my forehead and a pat on Luca’s broad shoulder as he headed upstairs. Unable to decide which version of myself I should be, the cold-hearted bitch or the girl with a newly discovered praise kink, I watched him go in silence.

“You look beautiful this morning, Polly.” Luca stepped closer and I retreated, the flash of rejection crossing his face unconvincingly smiled away. “I saw these growing in the fields on my run, and they reminded me of the purple in your hair. I hope you don’t mind.” Like a sweet, lovesick schoolkid, he produced a posy of flowers from behind his back and held them out.

“Morning Glory.” I smiled, taking them in my hand and not gushing in the slightest. “They’re a weed, actually. Is this your way of calling me toxic?”

“No! No, not at all. Fuck, I keep fucking up.”

“Chill, Cowboy. I’m just kidding.” I laughed, playfully pushing him in the chest to emphasize the joke and fulfill my need to touch him. “You weren’t to know, and you just got here. What do you keep fucking up?”

Blush colored his cheeks. “Last night. At the beach. I shouldn’t have—” He regrets it. Regrets me. “Polly, I’m so sorry. I should never have … You know, without protection. I mean, I’m clean. You don’t need to worry about that, but …”

Pregnancy. He was worried he’d knock me up. It was the perfect time to tell him kids were of no concern to barren old me, but if he were half as sweet and understanding as I suspected he would be, telling him that would only make saying goodbye harder. Besides, lying came easier.

“You have nothing to worry about. I wasn’t asleep when you came earlier. I was at the doctor getting the morning-after pill. Dad was just covering for me.”

“Oh.” Tapping his thigh, he stared down at his always moving feet. “You should have let me know. I would have come with you.”

Please don’t say that. Please don’t be nice . As imaginary as it was , the thought of Luca sitting beside me, his feet jiggling as he held my hand and waited to see the doctor was …. “It’s no problem. I’ve had to do it loads of times. The doctor begins writing the script the minute she sees me.”

Still blushing, Luca rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. Oh. Okay.” The pang of guilt tugging at my stomach was dismissed when he moved on. “When I woke up this morning, I was really happy, but then I realized before we … before we—”

“Fucked?”

“Yeah. Before we did that, I rambled on about all my stuff and never gave you the chance to do the same. So, I was wondering, would you come and have breakfast with me?” Closing the distance I’d put between us, he placed is hands on my hips and tugged me against him. “Maybe this time, I can be the one listening.”

Ignoring the comfort I found in his touch, I gave a weak shake of my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. People will see us and people will talk. You don’t want Little Miss Perfect finding out.”

“They’re not here, actually. The gang has gone to the Gold Coast. I wasn’t feeling up to the trip and stayed behind.”

“Still, when they get back, they’ll hear all about it. Folks around here have small minds but long memories.”

“Lucky, I brought us a picnic then. We can go hide wherever you like.”

“Is it just me or is it really freaking hot in here?”

“It’s hot in here. It’s a greenhouse, Luca. That’s kind of the point.”

Snarling, Luca tore a chunk of his disgusting-looking carb-free, gluten-free, flavor-free bread and tossed it amongst the ferns. “Fuck. You must think I’m so stupid.”

“No. I think you’re nervous and sweet. Much too sweet for me.” Another piece of bread hit the greenery. “Why do you put yourself down all the time? You’re not stupid. You’re one of the most popular and sponsored players in the NHL. You aced college, negotiated a record three-year deal, and you did it all yourself before landing an agent. I don’t think a dumbass could have done all that.”

Feeling quite righteous, I took a sip of my mimosa and gloated. It didn’t last long.

“Have you been googling me, Polly?”

Fuck.

“No … I didn’t google you. I used Safari.”

An adorable, crooked smirk I would likely remember long after he was gone curved Luca’s lips. “What else did you find out about me?”

“Hmm.” This was dangerous. If I revealed too much, he would know the lengths of my stalking but talking about him meant we wouldn’t be talking about me. Also, that arrogant smirk was addictive. I wanted more. “I know that you were unfairly outed, which is really shit. And that despite your team’s acceptance of LGBTQIA+ players, your manager made you cover it up, and that’s how you ended up with Clara. I know you’re famous for your trick shots, for being the fastest defenseman in the league, and for having the biggest …” His eyes widened. “Head about being the fastest.”

“That’s quite a lot. I’m impressed.” He began to say something else but suddenly stopped and furrowed his brows. “Hey. I just realized we’re talking about me again. This was supposed to be about you.”

“You’re much more interesting,”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case.” Tingles exploded over my body as he leaned forward and planted a kiss on the edge of my mouth. A kiss I should have dodged. It started soft and innocent, but the moment my lips parted and released a helpless moan, his tongue was trailing over them, sliding against mine.

Damn, he was a good kisser. The best. And he smelled incredible. Like the beach and linen and soap and just a touch of manly sweat from his jog. As I slid my hands up over his neck and into his hair, my mind began conjuring images of him lathering his thick body with creamy soap while showering and wondering what kind of shampoo he used to make his locks so soft to the touch.

As much as it hurt, I pulled away, swallowing the remains of my drink while he eyed me like he wanted to eat me alive. Lord, how I wanted that, too.

With an empty glass and a worryingly full heart, I spilled. “You want to know about me? Okay. Most of the things you’ve heard about me are true. I did ask Nate to date me to keep him and Evie apart. And when he returned from New York broken-hearted, and I saw that she’d come home to find him, I tried to seduce him again.”

Luca swallowed heavily. That ravenous look was a thing of the past. “And this was all because Evie dated a guy you liked in school?”

“Yes and no. There’s more to it than that,” I said as I reached over his legs for the juice and champagne and refilled my glass. His eyes never left mine. “You really want to know?”

“Yep. I really want to know.”

“Why? There’s no future for us, Luca. Why don’t you just leave it as a fun, forbidden holiday hookup? I can be the mysterious minx you played with before you went home and found yourself a good man or woman.”

“I want to know because everyone tells me I’m gullible and a terrible judge of character. My sister, Anabela, says I would fall in love with a mop if it fell on top of me. I also want to know because I feel things for you. I have a sense that there is good in you, Polly. That all this shit is a cover for something, and I need to know if they are right or if I am.”

“Luca, I can answer that without telling you my story. Yes, they, whoever they are, are right. You shouldn’t trust me, and you definitely shouldn’t have feelings.”

“But I do, and I need to know.” With his eyes on my lips, he edged closer again. “Please, Polly. I need to know.”

Luca

“He did.”

“No, he didn’t. I let him. Before that night, no boy would look twice at me. I might not have been the fat little boomba I was when I was thirteen, but that’s how everyone still saw me … how a lot still do. That’s why people called me Plop. Plop, plop, plop, here comes floppy Polly Waffle. But Luke wanted me. I was tipsy and I had on this really short skirt because I was so excited that it finally fit me.” She looked up at me though her lashes and her expression broke my heart. And she was hot. Not the good sexy kind but flushed with shame and regret. Unwarranted self-blame stoking the fire.

“I worked so hard, Luca. I dieted and starved and worked out till I was sick, but it was worth it ‘cause when that skirt fit me, Luke said I looked pretty. No one had ever said that to me before. Then we fooled around a bit, and I fell asleep, and when I woke up, he was on top of me and inside of me. I think I said no once. Once, Luca. And then he got rough, and I didn’t do anything. I just laid there and cried.”

Tears of hurt for her, rage at him, and anger at me for pushing her to this point streamed down my face. Getting to this point had been like delicately peeling petals from a flower before finally hitting the hard, black core at the center. With each layer gone, I got closer to her truth till, finally, it burst free.

“Polly. Listen to me. He. Raped. You. He raped you.”

My brave, strong girl shook her head then buried it into my chest.

“No. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been there.”

With my arms wrapped around her trembling body, I let her cry against me, and only when her sobs subsided did I ask, “I say this not to blame or shame you, but why didn’t you tell Evie or anyone what really happened? It could have changed everything for you.”

“Because I deserved it. I’d wanted positive attention my whole life and finally … I was finally getting it. I didn’t care if it was good or bad, or made me out to be a total slut. I just wanted someone—anyone—to see me.” Her voice cracked and again, her body crumpled in on itself. It was a palpable, physical reaction. Like the pressure valve holding in the air of truth for so many for years was finally giving way.

“And I was just so angry and jealous of her. I knew if I had fought him … If I had been a little louder and stronger like she was, it wouldn’t have happened. But for seventeen-year-old me it was easier to blame Evie than the boy I had loved since I was twelve. I just kept thinking, if Evie hadn’t said no … If she had let him ... and I don’t know if you’ve ever found this, but to me, the more you lie to yourself, the easier it becomes to believe. Then one day, you can hardly remember what really happened. The lie has become your truth. That’s why I can’t trust anyone, because I don’t trust myself to know fact from fiction.”

Though I’d never experienced anything like it, and many without an empathetic bone in their bodies might still disagree, Polly’s reasoning was understandable. I thought of Clara. I thought of what I’d have been willing to forgive if she’d had finally looked at me the way I did her. I would have given anything. I would have walked through fire to get just a glimmer of want. Would being the operative word.

Now, there was only one person I wanted to look at me like that—and she was sitting on my lap. A beautiful, flawed, tower of strength I had to help. I had to make mine.