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She didn’t freeze—not like I expected, but instead moved her lips against mine. It wasn’t awful, just awkward as hell. I’d loved this woman for half my life and yet, there was no spark of need as we kissed. Well, that settled that then.

I sank back down on the barstool, returning to sipping my water as I ignored the wide-eyed, gaping stare from Bailey. Finally, she closed her mouth and tilted her head. “Why’d you pick her?”

Another laugh ripped from my throat.

“Obviously she has a thing for blonds. Look at Rory,” Jeannine said, waving Bailey away.

Bailey chuckled. “I so didn’t need to be witness to that.”

“Another one off the list. Now you have to give me a break,” I said, eyeing Jeannine.

She smiled at me, genuine concern in her eyes. I know she only pressed the subject to make me laugh, to distract me from the royally fuckedupness my life had spiraled into overnight—and I loved her for it. Loved Bailey for comforting me in the only way someone who totally understood could—she hadn’t exactly planned for her bun in the oven either.

I sighed, thankful for the two women in my life who made the hardest day of mine seem a little less dark.

Now, if only they could stitch my heart back together, we’d be in business.



Chapter 17



Rory



Crash! I slammed Bentley into the boards, harder than necessary for a practice.

“Fuck,” Bentley groaned as he pushed himself up off the ice. “Man, I’ve kept my mouth shut for weeks.”

“Ontario won’t go easy on you. I won’t either.” I skated off, trying and failing to keep Trevor Hewitt, and the night he ruined my life out of my head.

It had been a week since I’d forced Paige to see me as the asshole everyone else did. A week since I’d been in love and happy for the first time in my life before I fucked it all up, just as I knew I would. It hurt like fucking hell, but I knew she was a million times better off without me in her life. She’d move on, marry a Kennedy, and have the perfect life she’d been groomed for. She’d be happy. Well..ntent, at least.

That’s not your Red, and you know it.

She’s not mine anymore. Shut the fuck up.

This battle with myself hadn’t let up for even a second since that night. And today I was letting that frustration out on the ice.

“Rory,” Coach called me to the box after I’d checked another teammate into the boards as hard as possible.

I skidded to a stop before him, slipping inside and sinking down on the bench next to him.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Ready to play on Saturday?”

“Absolutely.” Game one of the Stanley Cup Finals. My dream. And I was more than ready. After all, if I couldn’t have the dream of Paige, I’d sure as fuck nail this one.

“You seem to be working out something out there. Want to let me in?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nope.” I took a swig of water from one of the many bottles in the box.

“Fine. You’re looking great. Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it.” He clapped me on the back. “But not today. Go shower up.”

I bolted off the bench. “But Coach!” There was still an hour left in practice and I’d only just warmed up.

He shook his head. “I said you’re doing great. Just save it for Ontario. I don’t need my players hurt because something lit a fire under you. Rest up.”

I huffed, knowing he had a point. “Yes, sir.”

I unlaced my skates and stalked toward the locker room. Even as I showered, I itched to unleash more pain on anyone who could take it. Coach had said something had lit a fire under me, but it wasn’t something. It was someone. My Red. The woman had made my soul blaze from the second I’d touched her. She was all consuming, and for the briefest of moments, I breathed fire. Now, with the absence of her, all that made me up was rage. I stood under the water until my skin puckered and my blood ran slightly cooler.

“Bro,” Gage nodded to me as I toweled off. He and the rest of the team had just funneled in from practice. “You good?”

I flipped him off.

“Okay, wrong question.” Gage started stripping off his gear at his locker next to mine. He shook his head, his knowing eyes too judgy for my liking. “You know—”

“Don’t, man. Don’t say a fucking word.”

Gage stood, his height just barely beating mine. “Fuck you. You’re being an idiot.”

“Hey now, kids,” Warren chided from behind Gage. “We’re all bros here remember?”

“Shut up!” Both Gage and I snapped in unison. Warren flipped us both off and headed to the showers.


“You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Gage continued.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit. Paige is a wreck. You’re being a bigger asshole than usual…”

Her name on his lips snapped my attention up to him, breaking my rage-wall. “She’s a wreck?”

What did you think she’d be asshole? You think a week goes by and she’s skipping down easy street?

“Yeah,” Gage crossed his arms over his chest. “Not that I’m supposed to tell you that.” He raked his hands through his hair.

“What else did Bailey say?” I asked, suddenly desperate to be in the know. How could I simultaneously want to soothe Paige’s pain and be the cause of it?

Because it will be better for her in the long run. You ruin everything. Right.

Something flashed behind Gage’s eyes, but he quickly started digging through his locker. “I don’t know, man. Stuff. Why did you do it?”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t real. It was a challenge, and I failed.”

“Bullshit.”

I punched my locker closed, knowing I couldn’t lie to my best friend. “She deserves better. It was the only way I knew how to ensure she’d get what she deserved one day.”

“She deserved you.” Gage forced me to look him in the eye. “You loved her. Still do. Why are you making it so difficult?”

“Because! There won’t be a time in my life that I’m good enough for her!”

“And there hasn’t been one time in mine that I’ve been good enough for Bailey, but we fucking make it work. That’s what love is! She makes you better, and you take care of her.”


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Seattle Sharks Romance