I can see her absorbing what I just told her. Weighing it in a way I don’t see with most people.
“Was it hard to choose?” Her voice is quiet, thoughtful. “Knowing what your dad wanted for you wasn’t what you wanted?”
“It was brutal. Before I told him was the worst. There were months of that gnawing ache in my gut when I knew I was going to let him down.”
She nods, looking off into the distance. “I know that feeling.”
“I hung on to that longer than I should have. And then one night after a meatloaf dinner, I finally sacked up and spit it out. He just stared at me for what felt like an eternity. My mom let out this horrified squeak and, yeah. That was a rough summer.”
She’s watching me intently now. Her eyes soft and curious. “But it was worth it? You’re happy? No regrets?”
It takes me a minute to answer. No one asks me that. Ever.
I’m playing in the NHL. It’s a dream not many realize. But it comes with sacrifices that start the second you realize you have to put it before everything else, and that might continue well past the last time you step off the ice.
But none of that changes my answer.
“I’m happy. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m finally where I wanted to be.” Or I will be once the contracts are signed. “And as to regrets? Only that I wish my dream hadn’t come at the cost of my dad’s.”
“I get it.” She smiles again. “But even if he was disappointed at first, that man is so proud of you now. No matter how he teases you, I don’t think even he would change a thing.”
I like that she sees it. That she understands. I like that she’s sitting on “the bed” with me in one of my favorite spots in my hometown.
Hell, I like her. Period.
Chapter 9
Harlow
I wasn’t sure about crashing my second bachelorette party in as many weeks, but Janie wouldn’t hear of me skipping out. And now that I’m back at the hotel, tipsy from too many sugary drinks and still giggling thinking about the “police officer” who showed up at her sister’s house during dinner, I am so glad I went.
Wade and I texted a few times early on in the evening, but then Grace caught me and commandeered my phone, texting her son in no uncertain terms that this was a girls’ night and he could have me back when the party was over. She’s feisty and so much fun.
Dressed for bed but still a little wound up, I check my phone wondering if Walt had as much fun at his party as his bride-to-be had at hers and if all Wade’s plans for the night turned out the way he’d hoped.
I wonder if he’ll be back before I go to sleep.
If we’ll talk through the wall the way we did the night before. I kind of hope so, because it was surprisingly nice getting drowsy to the sound of his voice.
He has a really nice voice.
Okay, definitely still tipsy.
The door to our suite unlocks and I sit up, a frisson of excitement sweeping over me. After a quick knock, Wade lets himself in and—
“Whoa, are you okay?” I ask, stumbling out of bed as I take in the train wreck that is my fake boyfriend. His hair is standing in total disarray, there are lipstick smudges on his face, and his button-down shirt is hanging open… no buttons to be found.
Wade throws the slide lock and slumps back against the door with a long breath. Tired eyes meet mine, and when he brings up his hand in the universal stop signal, I see his sleeve is literally torn at the cuff.
“I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”
“It looks like…” Like maybe someone needs to call the real police.
“Someone told the dancer at the club I was a hockey player.”
Huh? And then it hits me.
Ooh… The “sports celebrity” thing is real.
“She’s a Slayers fan? Or just a really hardcore Wade Grady fan?” I whisper, trying to shut down the pinch of jealousy I’m experiencing at the sight of all that lipstick.
Wade lets out a dry laugh. “She’d probably never even heard my name before. I only started getting real ice time in the games this past season. But knowing I’m a pro, sometimes people get caught up in it.” His eyes cut to mine, his smile coming back online. “Present company excluded.”
“No, I’m impressed. I am.” Fine, not so much about the sports. But in other ways.
“You’re killing me, Harlow.” He pushes off the door and walks through to my room with a weary laugh. “I want you to know, this isn’t what I was going for. I asked her to back off. Tried to be nice. Told her I had a girlfriend.”
At my shocked cough, he shakes his head. “What? For the purposes of this week, I do. And so we’re clear, I would never disrespect the woman I was with by flirting up or encouraging this kind of crazy shit.” He holds up his arm, examining the torn fabric, and mutters a curse.
Then he’s shouldering out of his shirt, and I’m trying not to notice the muscles across his chest flexing and shifting as he frees one powerful arm and then the other.
“I really appreciate that.” I do. “But, um…”
His head comes up. “Yeah.”
I can barely say it out loud. “I put… twenty dollars in Officer Johnson’s man thong thing.”
Wade blinks. Shakes his head and blinks again before barking out a laugh so loud I’m afraid he’ll wake the whole hotel.
“I feel bad,” I gasp, laughing too. Okay, not that bad. “You were such a good fake boyfriend while I’m this, this tart.”
When he finally catches his breath, he sits back on the desk across from the bed. “Hey, how’d it go with the bachelorette party anyway? You girls have fun?”
I start to answer but, with the way his arms are braced at his sides with those massive legs stretched out in front of him, I’m getting lost in the deep-cut ridges of his abdominal muscles.
So many.
He asked me about the party. Right.
It takes me a second to get my eyes up past his neck, and when I do, I find Wade watching me with one raised brow and a smile that says I’m so busted.
I sigh, holding up my hands. “Okay, I’m impressed. For real.”
He grins. “Finally.”
Taking a last look at the shirt, he tosses the wrecked garment in the bin beneath him. “The party, Harlow.”
Yes. Right.
“It was so much fun. Thank you for the nudge, by the way. I would have been fine with a night here in the room, though. So if anything comes up that you need to do on your own, don’t worry about me. I mean that. But tonight was a really good time, and I’m glad I got to go.”
“Just tell me Janie’s stripper didn’t get as handsy as ours did. If my brother’s taking a swing at me tomorrow, I want to be prepared for it.”
“He didn’t.” I laugh and, peering up at him, get caught in that smile. “No offense to Walt, because he seems like a really nice guy. But I’m having trouble imagining him coming after you.”
Wade has several inches on his brother and a couple dozen pounds of muscle, at least. The bulk of which I’m still getting an eyeful of.
“If you’d seen us growing up, you wouldn’t doubt it. That little fucker fought dirty.”