Except for her.
And I didn’t know if that was good or bad, right or wrong, or if I’d help or harm her.
Clover expected the world of me, but I’d broken every promise. I couldn’t offer her a future. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine a future for myself. For far too long I’d assumed hockey would fulfill all of my needs.
And then the Forge drafted me.
Now the ice didn’t feel as familiar, the stick as comforting.
Before moving to Ironfield, I’d never given a single thought to what would happen after the games. The arena was the only honest and uncomplicated facet of my life. Figured if I showed up, worked hard, and won games, everything would make sense.
How many times could a man be wrong?
I showered, dressed, and packed my things in the dark silence of the locker room, though I knew the instant I reached the parking lot, I wouldn’t be alone.
Wasn’t the first time Clover waited for me after practice. Usually, she’d bring me a sandwich or Gatorade. Today, she had nothing. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned against her car. Shadows swelled into the empty lot, broken only by the occasional headlights funneling over the bridges and out of the city.
Perfect night to make terrible mistakes.
“Hey…” Clover spoke a single, sweet word.
Her gentle greeting almost dropped me to my knees. She offered warmth and comfort with a smile, but hers was a gift I no longer deserved.
“How long have you been here?” The words sounded gruff.
She hesitated. “Came to watch a fight, and a hockey practice broke out.”
Great.
She wasn’t the only one to witness the debacle that was our training camp. Sports Nation had already released the footage. I had a voicemail from Magnolia Mallory warning me about the spin. Not that she could do much to help. The media would run with whatever boosted their ratings the most, even if it came at the expense of my career.
“I saw the hit,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“That’s why I wear a cup.”
“Maybe you should wear two.”
Might’ve been a joke if I had anything worth protecting. “I didn’t get hurt.”
“Good.” She kicked a pebble down the yellow line separating our cars, separating us. “That was…a tough practice.”
“Same as always.”
“It’ll turn around.”
Damn her optimism. It never used to irritate me.
“It won’t turn around,” I said. “The team is fucked, and nothing I do will fix it.”
I hated making the woman upset. She nibbled her bottom lip as she attempted to chase away my concerns.
“Doesn’t sound like the Adrian Alaric I know. You’ve never backed down from a challenge.”
That was when I had a reason to fight.
But life had changed, and a man’s will was only as strong as his woman needed him to be.
I welcomed the encroaching darkness. At least she wouldn’t see my face. I could hide it in my voice, but Clover too easily read my pain. Worse—she could end it. Fix it. Make it all better with a stroke of her fingers and the brush of her kiss.
And I couldn’t allow that to happen.
This misery was my own. My newfound obsession. A reminder that an entire world existed beyond the rink, and I had destroyed all of it.
“I used to figure out solutions to these problems,” I said. “See a way forward. But not now. I can’t fix this.”
Any of it.
“You can’t do it alone.” She took my hand. “But maybe we can do it together.”
Her touch spread a familiar, comforting heat. I might’ve pulled her into my arms and accepted the warmth over my aching body. Might’ve let her calming presence soothe my every trouble.
But not tonight.
Not ever again.
Not while the guilt coiled around my throat like a noose and waited to kick the chair out from under me.
I hadn’t seen her since that night, when I’d taken her savagely and remorselessly. Selfishly. I fucked her with one purpose and one purpose only.
To get her pregnant.
And it wasn’t because she’d asked me to start a family.
It wasn’t because I’d wanted to make her happy.
It wasn’t even because the thought got me off.
I’d wanted to impregnate her to prove that I could. I’d meant to fuck a baby into her to reaffirm that I was still a man, and that the injury hadn’t destroyed the most basic, primal part of my being.
But after four months with no success, I’d learned the truth.
And it wasn’t fair to her to continue the lie.
“You should go home,” I said. “I don’t need your help.”
Clover always had a defiant streak. I resented it now.
“That’s not true, and you know it,” she said. “I’m going home with you. We have a lot to talk about.”
I didn’t want to talk. Sure as hell didn’t want to listen.
And I didn’t want to hurt her any more than I already had.
“Clover…” Her name stung my throat, acid burning through an already raw wound. “Ever since we were kids, I’ve only tried to make you happy. I’ve done all I could to take care of you.”
“Adrian…”
“You said that I had nothing else in my life besides hockey. That’s wrong. I had you. And I depended on you always being there to comfort me, heal me, be with me. I never needed anyone because I already had you. And, as long as you were happy, my world was complete.”
Clover hesitated. Her dark eyes flittered to the ground, as if summoning the courage from her toes and working it up.
“You know what I’m going to say to you.” Her whisper only caused more pain. “And you know how terrifying it is.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t say it.”
“Why not? Don’t you feel it too?”
Dangerous, stupid question.
And she already knew the answer without torturing me.
“When I look at you…I don’t see my best friend anymore,” I said.
My confession hurt. Clover nearly crumbled. She leaned against her car, breathing ragged.
“I hate that,” she whispered.
“I don’t. Because I see something wonderful instead. I see someone beautiful. A bright, vibrant, determined woman who finally knows what she wants in life. A woman who is eager to share that life with someone else.” My throat tightened. “But that man isn’t me, Clover.”
“Why? You can’t tell me why.”
I could.
And it would destroy all that we had left.
“I can’t give you a baby.”
She didn’t deny it, but she fought me nevertheless.
“We’ve only just started trying, Adrian.”
“The doctors warned me about this after my injury. Said I’d recover, but we had no idea about the complications. A year ago, I didn’t care. Everything else was secondary to getting back on the ice. I convinced myself it wasn’t important.” The thought disgusted me now. “But the injury has been on my mind every second of every day since taking the hit. It’s ruined me. I’ve got no idea if the team will respect me enough to lead…or if I can look into the eyes of my best friend and tell her we have no future.”