Page 46 of At First Smile
Placing my hands on my hips, I suck in a steadying breath. “I won’t DM her. It’s better this way.”
“For who?” Sasha’s expression twists into a scowl.
“For Pen.” I turn toward the window. “She deserves better than me. You both said it; she’d soften my image. What would I do to hers? How would I impact her life?”
The thirty-five hours I spent with Pen, a respite from my miserable life, is over. I lost the chance for something… I crushed it the moment I walked away from her at baggage claim. Though maybe a bit of the reprieve was lost with each minute that ticked away without being honest with her about who I was. Being a hockey player isn’t who I am, it’s what I do. A big part. To most people I am Rowan Iverson, NHL defensemen, not Just Rowan.
No matter how much I yearn to go back, I can’t. Even if I explain everything and beg for forgiveness, she deserves more. More than a man who hides his reality and then walks away.
“Sasha, please do what you need to do to make this go away. To make”—I swallow the hard lump in my throat— “Pen go away. I don’t want reporters bothering her or associating her with me.”
“Are you sure?” she says softly.
Her small hand rests on my shoulder, squeezing gently, but I don’t turn around. “Yes.”
She sighs. “I’ll make some calls.”
Sasha pads out of the room.
Hands braced on the windowsill, I stare my unfocused gaze on the world outside. The sun hangs low in the sky, readying to say goodbye to the last day with Pen Meadows in my life. I close my eyes and let myself get lost – for just a moment – in the only thing I’ll have of her from now on, memories. Her silky lips against my mouth. The melody of her laugh. The sensation of her body curled into mine.
Greg clears his throat, breaking the silence. “In the course of a single play on the field, I lost the future I had mapped out for myself. A career playing in the NFL. The girl I thought I’d marry. My ability to walk. They all were gone in the snap of my lower vertebrae.”
I pivot to face Greg.
He seldom talks about his accident, or the life stolen from him by something that happened in the blink of an eye. The well-known story is a cautionary tale for young athletes – the future star cut down too soon. But Greg never let that be his narrative. Looking at his life with his beautiful family and thriving career, I can only imagine that the life he’d wanted at twenty-two pales in comparison with his actual life at forty.
His eyes link with mine. “In the hospital, my mother told me I could wallow in the wreckage of that future or use the broken pieces to rebuild a new one. So, that’s what I did. I went to law school. I took a job as an agent, because even if I couldn’t play football, at least I could work with football players and occasionally stupid hot-headed hockey players.”
My mouth curves into a small smile.
“I built a new future, but I saw it as a consolation prize. I saw myself as one. So, when Sasha waltzed into that board room nine years ago, I told myself that she wasn’t for me. Someone like her deserves more than a consolation prize of a man.” He gestures to himself. “Hell, most days I think she still does… But she chose me, even when I hadn’t chosen myself.”
“It’s not the same, Greg. I’m no good for Pen. I’m not you. I’m?—”
“A man whose vision is clouded with the belief that he’ll continually disappoint everyone, a man who doesn’t even see himself as a consolation prize, but as a punishment,” he cuts in. “Sasha isn’t the only perceptive member of the Lawson family. In ten years, I’ve not seen you develop close friendships nor – outside of Emma – have a girlfriend.”
“I’m friends with Wes.”
“He’s your employee and annoyed you into it. Hell, I think he annoyed me into it.”
“I’m friends with you.”
“We’re not friends. I’m your agent.”
I huff a dismissive laugh.
“You pay me twelve percent of your earnings, and I tell you the truth. You care so much about people that you hold them at a distance because you tell yourself all you’ll ever do is hurt them.”
“Are we adding psychologist to your list of agenting skills?” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Yeah, and your snarky ass should listen to Dr. Lawson. Date the girl or don’t date the girl… but don’t lie to yourself that you are doing it to protect her.” He rolls from behind the desk and heads towards the door. “We all know who you’re really protecting.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Cure-All: a Boozy Brunch
Pen
