I’m safe here.
Tears slide freely down my cheeks as I laugh quietly, recounting our strange evening of conversation. Grant is stubborn and a little grumpy. He’s also wealthy, handsome, and single, which is obviously none of my business. But I can tell, underneath all that gruffness, Grant really is a good guy.
And I could use some goodness in my life.
6
* * *
Second Chances
Grant
Waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I lean one hip against the counter and scrub a hand over my face.
Last night with Ana took an unexpected turn. We had dinner and some wine, which was fine . . . until she prodded me into opening up. It’s something I rarely do, even with people I’ve been friends with for years. I told Ana things that even my own teammates don’t know about me. I told her about my parents, my childhood, asked her about her relationship . . .
That was stupid on my part. There was no point bonding with her over some stupid game of twenty questions. She isn’t going to be here long. Most likely, she’ll eventually go back to Kress. And even then, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the conversation. Yeah, I revealed more than I wanted to, but just the chance to keep her big brown eyes directed at me had felt pretty damn good.
If that makes me a pussy, so be it. I haven’t enjoyed the conversation of a woman in a long time. And even back then, none of them could hold a candle to Ana. Sweet. Generous. Kind. Beautiful, though she doesn’t know it, which is really the best kind of beauty.
I enjoyed a handful of years in my youth where I sampled what was offered. Puck bunnies, or whatever you want to call them—the women eager to share the bed of a professional hockey player just to say they’ve done it. But after a while, it started to get stale, because it wasn’t really me they were interested in. It was fleeting, carnal pleasure they were after, the chance to say they’d fucked a hockey player. They didn’t ask about my childhood or my goals, or what I want out of life after hockey. But Ana did.
And, God, that lasagna . . .
After pouring myself a large mug of coffee, I carry it into the living room, grabbing my phone on the way, and then settle onto the couch. Just as I’m following up on an appointment I made yesterday, the front door opens to reveal Ana—dressed in a bright pink fleece sweater and black yoga pants. Hobbes barrels in between her legs and runs straight for me.
“Hi.” She smiles when she sees me.
“Morning. There’s coffee.” I nod toward the kitchen.
“Perfect. It’s chilly outside.”
Rising briefly, I turn on the gas fireplace, which flickers to life with a soft whoosh. I rarely use the thing, but figure if she’s cold, why not?
Ana’s smile grows as she carries in her coffee to join me on the couch. “Oh, this is so cozy.”
Hobbes flops to the floor with a huff in front of the fireplace.
“So I leave later today for a game on the East Coast,” I say, swallowing a sip of coffee and looking at her over the top of my mug.
She nods. “The team flies out to New York. I know. I’ll go stay with Georgia.”
Jason’s suspension means he isn’t allowed on team premises, which includes the jet and games. But then he’ll probably be here in Seattle, which also means there’s no way in fuck Ana is going to stay at Georgia’s. Kress went there once already looking for her. And if he did it again, this time I wouldn’t be around to help her if things went south. I’d be three time zones away.
I shake my head. “You’ll stay here.”
Her eyes widen, appraising me. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
I clear my throat, shifting in my seat. “Right. Sorry. I just mean . . . it’s no trouble having you here, and it’s really the smart move. You, staying here for the time being.”
If she leaves because I’m a surly asshole who doesn’t know how to communicate, I’ll feel even worse. It’s not her fault I’m out of practice at this kind of thing.
She weighs my words, trying to determine if they’re sincere. Then her gaze lifts to mine. “Are you sure you don’t mind me being here when you’re away?”
“It’s really no problem. Plus, I like the idea of the place being used while I’m gone.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“Positive.”
Ana nods. “Then I guess I’ll stay.”
“Glad that’s settled.”
A knock at the front door grabs our attention.
“There’s just one other thing,” I say, rising to my feet.
Ana shoots me a curious glance. “Are you expecting someone?”
Nodding, I head toward the door. “I’m having a security alarm installed today before I go.”
“Wait, what?” She jumps to her feet and follows me to the foyer with Hobbes in tow.
I open the front door to a trim man with a beard and blue tennis shoes. “Hi. Mr. Henry?”
“Yeah,” I say. “But Grant’s fine.”
“Great. Well, I’m here to install your new security system, which should take about an hour.”
“Come on in.” I open the door wider and usher him in.
Ana’s right on my heels as I follow the guy deeper inside my condo, where he begins unloading a small set of tools.
“I don’t understand,” she says, turning to face me. “Isn’t Jason traveling with the team?”
I clear my throat and lead her into the hall where we’ll have a little more privacy. “He’s not. With the suspension, he’s not even allowed on team property.”
“Oh.” Her face falls. “And you think he would . . .”
My throat tightens at the expression on her face. “No.” Most likely he wouldn’t try anything. Not now. At least, I hope not, but I clearly don’t know the guy as well as I thought I did.
I still can’t believe Ana spent two years with that fuck. I hate to think about what she went through. I may not know what love is, but I sure as hell know what love isn’t.
“Is it not safe here? Is that what this is about?”
I reach out and place one hand on her shoulder. It’s a touch meant to calm her, but instead, I can feel how tense she is. Shit. This is my fault. I never meant to make her feel on edge.
I drop my hand from her slender shoulder and shove it in my pocket. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’ve just been meaning to do this for a while.”
Her disbelieving gaze says she isn’t so sure I’m telling her the truth.
“I just figured this might make you feel safer while I’m gone.”
“It’s only one night,” she says, frowning.
“Yeah . . .”
“And I’m tougher than I look.”
“I know,” I say quickly.
She inhales, her nostrils flaring. Apparently, I answered too quickly. Now she doesn’t believe I meant what I said.
“Let me do this one thing, Ana.”
“It’s your condo, Grant. I’m not going to stop you. But you’ve done a lot of things already.”
“It hasn’t been any hardship.” That’s the complete truth.