“No. It’s not.” His hand dropped from her soft cheek. “All you have to do is put one foot in front of the other.”
She shook her head.
“If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you.”
Her blue eyes filled with tears.
Shit.
“I don’t want to cry here in front of everyone.” She blinked and blew out her breath.
She was crying. That meant he should apologize for something so she’d stop. “I’m sorry I blamed your period, the other night.” That was true. He shouldn’t have said that. “Come with me and I’ll make it up to you.?
??
Her nose scrunched like he’d just made everything worse. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your pretend girlfriend.”
“Sure you can.” He looked at her mouth and bare throat. She said she loved him. She said he was a good guy. He wanted to back her against the wall and put his hands on both sides of her head, kiss her breathless, and show her how good he could be. “For two more weeks.”
“Sean, I can’t—”
He cut off her rejection with his mouth and pulled her against his chest. She stood stiff within his arms as his lips teased and coaxed, trying to warm her up and turn her all soft like the Lexie he knew.
“No, Sean.” She stepped out of his arms and raised a hand to her lips. One big tear rolled down her cheek. “Don’t do this to me. I love you and I can’t pretend that you love me, too.”
“It’s only for two more weeks,” he repeated.
She shook her head and wiped the moisture from her face. “I’m going to announce our breakup.”
That wasn’t what he wanted, but he couldn’t do anything to stop her. “When?”
“At the grand opening of Yum Yum’s Closet. Sylvia will be there, so it might be big news for a few days.” She shook her head. “Then it will all be over.”
“It’s not the middle of March yet.” He wanted to argue. To convince her she was just overreacting. The emotion pooling in her blue eyes stopped him.
“I’ll say we had an amicable split and are going our separate ways.”
He didn’t want to hurt her. That’s the last thing he wanted, but he was so pissed off he couldn’t think straight. “Are we going to be pretend friends now?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” She stepped around him and moved in the direction of the front door. He wanted to go after her and shake her and hold her against his chest. What he wanted didn’t matter, and he watched her walk away.
The next morning, the Chinooks’ DC–9 took off for a three-game stretch. Sean wasn’t in the mood for chitchat and stuck his headphones over his ears. Lexie was going to end things. Fine by him. The minute she’d launched herself into the Sea Hopper, she’d caused drama in his life. He didn’t need it. He didn’t want it, and he was positive that by the time they touched back down in Seattle, she’d be nothing to him but a distant memory. One he could forget because he needed to get his head in the game. His dreams of Stanley Cup glory were more important to him than a pain-in-the-ass runaway bride. More important any day of the week, but getting her out of his head was harder than he anticipated. She was stuck front and center as he took the ice against the Sharks, and her memory didn’t fade when the jet touched down in Columbus or Tampa Bay, either. And certainly not by the time he returned to Seattle six days later. The whole team seemed to feel his mood and made a wide path around him.
“Is something wrong?” John asked him as the team waited to take the ice in the Key Arena for a match-up against Buffalo.
“No.” He shoved his helmet on his head and stepped onto the ice when his name was announced. What else could he have said to Lexie’s dad? Your daughter’s drama is fucking with my head? He took off skating from one end of the rink to the other, then sent up a spray of ice as he took his place on the centerline. The fans whistled and chanted his name. Number 36 was at the show and it was time to do his job. Time to put points on the board. He adjusted his shoulders beneath his pads and looked up into the third tier. Her seat was empty. He knew it would be, but that didn’t keep the disappointment from his brow or extinguish the angry flame burning in the pit of his belly.
Several times during the first frame, he forgot that she was no longer a part of his life, and he caught himself glancing up, expecting to see the flash of her white smile. Each time, his brow furrowed a little deeper and the flame burned a little hotter. It didn’t help that Buffalo’s defender, Ed Sorenson, kept his gums flapping and his hits late and from behind. A solid defense was a part of the game, and a good, big, solid defenseman was worth his bulky weight in gold. Then there were instigators like Ed.
Halfway into the second period, Sean had just about enough of Ed’s stick in the small of his back. The whistle blew for an offsides and Sean skated to the face-off circle.
“Having a bad night?” Ed asked as he took his place next to Sean.
He’d been pretty much having a bad week. “It’ll take more than you, Special Ed, to make me have a bad night.” He bent forward, his gaze focused on the ref’s hand, waiting for the puck to drop. Inside his head, he went over the next play. If Paul got the puck, he’d shoot it to Sean. Sean would one-time it center ice to Brody and get in position to take a shot. He needed to keep his head in the game. It would take more than Special Ed’s insults to make him lose control.
“Hey, Knox, what’s it like to have Pete Dalton’s sloppy seconds?”
Sean’s stick fell to the ice and he swung even before he turned his head to see where to plant his fist. A low buzzing shot up his spine and blew out his ears. For one of the only times in his life, he didn’t even bother to control the anger blasting through him. Before Ed could recover, Sean slammed a shoulder into the bigger guy’s chest and punched him in the side of the head. The defender staggered and swung, landing two good blows before Sean got him in a headlock and fed him lunch. Punching as the bigger man flailed, Sean felt hands on his arms and back, pulling at him, but he didn’t stop until someone pushed him hard and a ref trapped him in a tight bear hug from behind. “I’m going to kill you the next time I see you,” he yelled as he got a glimpse of Ed, the guy’s jersey half off and his face bloody.