Page 32 of Triple Power Play 3
I shove my feet into my shoes and haphazardly toss my clothes into my bag. I don’t bother hanging my suit. I cram it in with the rest and rush out the door.
He wouldn’t take off, not again. He wouldn’t do that to Aurora. Still, I have a feeling he isn’t with her right now. He’s too angry, too wounded.
I drop my luggage at their room and bound down the stairs to the lobby, just in case.
He’s not there, and he’s not at the valet, the restaurant, the gym, or the pool.
I find him at the rooftop lounge and bar, leaning over the glass railing, staring out at the Manhattan skyline, no drink in his hand, thank fuck. I’d never forgive myself.
It’s a beautiful winter evening, not a flake of snow or drop of rain, only a crisp breeze dancing in the air. Still, it’s far cooler than Jax prefers.
Up here, there’s hardly anyone. Sensing me, he peers over his shoulder. Our gazes meet briefly before he glances away, his eyes wild, wrecked, a punch to my gut.
I swallow hard against the burning in my throat and wrap my arms around him from behind. “I’m sorry.”
“Nope. Fuck that.” He tenses and makes a weak attempt to escape me. “Stop touching me.”
If he wanted, he could fight harder. I’m taller and bulkier, but he wouldn’t think twice about throwing an elbow or a headbutt at anyone else, no matter their size. Instead, he allows me to hold him while his heart beats an angry rhythm.
I don’t deserve his trust, and words fail me. “I didn’t mean it,” I manage.
“Yes, you did.”
“No…” My argument dies, because, fuck, he’s right. “I meant to hurt you, to push you away. It’s a knee-jerk reaction, and I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
He shifts his weight and drops his head back against me. “You are.”
I gaze at the Queensboro Bridge for a long while. “I found out my mother died the morning of my last game,” I blurt. “We were at home, and the team wanted me to sit out, but I refused. I talked a lot of shit, played tough, but that night, I wasn’t focused. My mind was elsewhere. I turned my back on the defender and got leveled. Didn’t stand a chance; my head hit the ice, and it was lights out. I lost everything that day, everything I’d worked my entire life for, and I’ve been…”Trying to recover that weightlessness, that feeling of security, ever since.“I’ve been coaching, you know?”
It was all I had once, but not anymore.
Before I can fully process that thought, the icy wind whips his hair across his face, and he brushes it aside. His blond hair is getting longer, taking on a darker, sandy-brown hue, and his tan is fading. I bet he’s eager to get back to the West Coast. I doubt he’ll ever be truly happy in New York.
He clears his throat. “Do what you need. Focus on your career. I can take care of Aurora and the baby. I won’t bother you.”
I won’t bother you.Did I not hear the same from our girl? Who’s next? My kid? What the fuck is wrong with me? Am I having a midlife crisis?
One thing’s for sure. “I don’t want to lose you or Aurora. I’m just…broken.”
“No, you’re not.” No hesitation, no wavering in his voice. “You’re the greatest man I know.”
That might not be saying much, but my eyes water. I hug him a little tighter. “Can we go back to the way we were? Please?”
He doesn’t respond, and my stomach flips as my chest tightens. “Jesus, you’re giving me a heart attack.”
He snorts. “You’re not having a heart attack, old man. I won’t allow it.”
I nuzzle the curve of his neck with my beard, and he shivers, a tremor rippling through him.
“Stop it.” He elbows me in the ribs. “Go play with your boy toy.”
“He’s not my boy toy,” I say through gritted teeth, putting him into a headlock. “I’m about to make you my boy toy if you don’t shut up.” I playfully shove him away.
He spins around and flashes me that crooked grin. “Promise?”
“Princess.” Reece smiles politely and opens the back door of the SUV.
“Viking,” she greets with nothing more than a curt nod, not even a glance.
