Pucking Wild: A Reverse Age Gap Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 2)
Pucking Wild: Chapter 32

Tess is crying in my arms, and I only want to make it stop. I want to hold her and heal her and be what she needs to move on. Whatever control I thought I had on my emotions, it’s gone. The woman I’m falling for is falling apart and I can’t pick up these pieces on my own.

“Give me something, baby,” I hear myself beg. “Please.”

She goes still in my arms, her hands clinging to my hips. “I’m only here because of you.”

The words hang in the air between us. Instantly, my mind tries to puzzle out their meaning. Which word carried the most emphasis? She’s only here because of me? Or she’s only here because of me?

She glances up. “Ryan, I’m only in Jacksonville because of you, because of the pictures taken of us dancing together at Rachel’s wedding.”

“Pictures?” I repeat, totally confused.

“One of the caterers was sneaking pictures all night,” she explains. “They sold them to TMZ, who published them all, including several pictures of you and I dancing together looking…well, we don’t look miserable,” she admits. “You really didn’t know? No one told you?”

I rack my brain, trying to think back to the days after the wedding. “I mean, maybe MK mentioned I was in the press a bit, yeah. But I didn’t really think anything of it. The wedding was a big deal. No one mentioned you or pictures with you, that’s for sure.”

“Well, Troy saw the pictures, and he used them to get me put on administrative leave.”

My heart fucking stops. “He what?”

She drops her hands away from me, wrapping the towel tighter around her shoulders. “Yeah, breach of morality clause. He got HR to argue that my behavior with you was indecent enough to warrant a temporary leave. I’ve got six weeks before they’re going to reevaluate, which basically means Troy is giving me six weeks to decide what I want more: a career and a reputation I’ve spent a decade building…or my freedom.”

“Oh, fuck. Tess, I’m so sorry. I’m so…that’s fucking crazy. Over one dance?”

She just shrugs. “I think Troy has just been waiting for the right opportunity. He came down hard. He twisted up the other partners and used the employee contract to force HR into making this move against me.”

“What can I do?” I say. “I could write something—a letter of support or-or some kind of witness statement that nothing happened. Hell, that night I went back to the hotel with the guys and fell asleep on the couch in Morrow’s room. There were witnesses—”

“No. Ryan, you’re sweet to offer, but at this point, it won’t change anything.”

“How can it not? I’ll call MK in the morning. We’ll have them issue a retraction that nothing was going on between us at the wedding—”

“It won’t matter,” she says over me.

“Why not—”

“Because I told Troy it was true.”

We stand there, two feet apart at the end of the beach boardwalk, our eyes locked on each other. The wind whips a few strands of her red curls across her face. She flicks them back, not breaking our gaze. I don’t know what emotions are showing on my face. Her only look is guilt, and it’s tearing me apart.

“You told him what was true?” I say at last.

“I told him we were together that night. I told him we fucked. I told him it was all true.”

I groan. “Jesus, Tess.”

“You don’t know him,” she says, her voice almost pleading. “You don’t know how vicious he can be. I tried denying it at first. I denied it to HR and the other partners, but that only seemed to make him happy.”

“Jesus.”

“Don’t you see? He wanted me to deny it,” she explains. “He wanted to watch me flail. He wanted to watch me tell the truth and suffer for it. That’s what he does. He twists me up and makes me think that lies are truth and that his version of reality is the only version. He did it our whole marriage.”

Okay, I know I haven’t met every person in the world, but in this moment, I’m pretty confident that Troy Owens is the worst one. He’s at least top fifty.

She steps in closer, taking both my hands in hers. “Ryan, please believe me that I didn’t intend to hurt you or drag you in deeper to all this mess. But I told him the lie. I told him we were together. He wanted to burn me down, so I gave him the match.”

My mind works in overdrive as I piece it all together. “Walk me through the timeline. The wedding pictures broke after Christmas, right?”

She nods, letting go of my hands.

“So, after Christmas, the pictures get leaked online. What happened next?”

“I went into work, and Troy already had it all arranged,” she replies. “He blindsided me with an early morning HR meeting. They had the pictures and the bullshit song and dance about morality. The coup was already over. They put me on leave, and I left. I came here.”

It doesn’t add up. “You’re leaving things out. Pieces are missing.”

“Ryan—”

“If I’m in this with you, I’m in it,” I press. “I have to know the timeline. Start again. You go to your HR meeting, they show you the photos and put you on leave, yes?”

She nods.

“Then what happened?”

“I came here,” she replies.

I glare at her. “You’re fast-forwarding.”

“Ryan—”

“Between the HR meeting and you arriving here in Jacksonville, what else happened?” I say over her. “You don’t just pack up your entire life and get on a plane. You don’t throw your phone out of a moving car—”

“Maybe I do,” she counters with a scowl. “You don’t know me, Ryan.”

“You’ve called your ex controlling, vicious, and dangerous. You’re scared of him, aren’t you? I see it in your eyes. He gave you a reason to be scared. What did he do?”

She shakes her head. “Please, don’t. It doesn’t matter—”

“What did he do, Tess?”

“I went back to my office. Troy followed me. We argued.”

“You argued about me.”

“We argued about a lot of things,” she says, her gaze lowering to somewhere around my left shoulder. “I wanted to understand why—after years of separation and both of us seeing other people—why would he suddenly care if I was with you? That’s when I realized…”

I raise a brow at her, waiting.

“It’s because it’s you,” she says at last.

I mull that over for a moment before admitting, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re everything he wishes he could be,” she replies, replaceing my gaze again. “You have a career of your own, not one your mother hand-selected for you. You’re rich, handsome, athletic. You’re the whole package, Ryan. And you’re a man.”

My brow furrows in confusion. “What does my being a man have to do with anything?”

“I’m bi,” she explains. “After Troy, I swore off dicks, literally and metaphorically,” she adds. “For the last three years, I’ve pretty much only dated women. And Troy is just enough of a misogynistic asshole to delude himself into thinking my girlfriends were just that, girls who were friends. But the moment I’m pictured with a man, he suddenly sees red. It’s just so typical. And so deeply disappointing.”

“You say he saw red…”

She gives me a warning look. “Please, don’t push this.”

But I can’t help it. “Tess, did he hurt you because of me? Because of those pictures?”

She shakes her head, but the look in her eyes is giving her away.

“Tess, did he put his hands on you?” Tears burn my eyes at the thought of this person I care for—any person—being abused.

“I’m fine,” she soothes. “He choked me a little and he pushed me around, but I calmed him down, okay? I got him to stop.”

I feel gutted, sick. “Tess…oh, baby, I’m so sorry. But—did you report him? Did you call the police—”

“No,” she says quickly. “Ryan, I’m not getting the police involved. That is not the solution here.”

“Not the solution?” I repeat. “He fucking choked you, Tess. Was that the first time? Has he hurt you before?”

She doesn’t answer and I know I’m gonna kill him. But he’s not my priority right now. Tess is. I take her by the shoulders. “Look, I’m not trying to scare you here, but this all sounds really fucking serious. You’re describing an escalating pattern of violence, triggered by you threatening to leave him. You need to get a restraining order. And that’s just for a start. You need to document the attack too. You need a police record. I can help you. I have contacts—”’

She pulls away from my grip. “I need you to let me handle this my way, okay? I’m not out here trying to be another statistic. I know this man. I know what he’s capable of. I’ve got my exit strategy in place, okay? My way will work. And this is not your burden to carry or your problem to fix.”

My outrage simmers. “You’re telling me your psycho ex is using me to ruin your fucking life. You’re telling me he hurt you because you said you were with me. Forgive me if that feels like my problem too.”

“I’m sorry.” Her hand brushes my shoulder again. “Ryan, I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. And I was never going to tell you—”

“What?” I inch away from her hand. “What was the plan then? You would just keep living with me and flirting with me and driving me fucking crazy while your psycho ex withholds a divorce because of me? What kind of fucking plan is that?”

“I don’t have a plan!” she cries. “You’re the Virgo who runs around organizing your life down to your damn calorie counts. I’m loud and chaotic and terrified of being alone. That’s why I came. There was no plan, I was just so fucking terrified of being alone. Again.”

Fuck, my heart is breaking for her. I reach out but she pulls away.

“I couldn’t stay there another second,” she goes on. “So, I went to the one place I’ve always felt safe, the one person. I came home to Rachel. Only she’s married now, and her priorities are different—and I love that for her,” she adds quickly. “But I am fucking terrified. I begged Troy for a divorce. I told him I’d give him anything. Everything. He can use any evidence he wants, and I’ll agree to it. I’ll say I was the one cheating this whole time—with you, with anyone. He can be the injured party. I won’t contest a thing. I just want to be free.”

“Tess, I’m so sorry,” I say, reaching for her again. “Please, let me help—”

“You’re not listening,” she cries. “Ryan, I was going to use you. I am using you. Stop being so nice to me!”

I drop my hand back to my side.

“You deserve so much better than me. You want things that I can’t give you. In this moment, I feel like all I can do is take. I’m in survival mode, and I’ll only drag you down with me.”

I consider her words. “And how do you survive? What did you hope would happen here, between us I mean?”

She takes a deep breath, holding my gaze. “I had every intention of using you to set Troy off. I wanted him to replace me living with you,” she admits. “I wanted the idea of you touching me and kissing me and fucking me—whether it was true or not—to haunt him. And I wanted him to come at me hard. I wanted him to torch my entire life. At least then I’d know that the pieces of me that survived are strong. And with those pieces, I would finally start over.”

This is a lot of information to process all at once. I feel like I’ve just gone through a car wash in a convertible with the top down. I’m angry, I’m hurt, and so damn confused. “You were using me?”

She nods.

“And you’re still using me now?”

She shakes her head. “No, I can’t now.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Tell me anyway,” I say, needing her to say it.

She holds my gaze, and I see such hurt there, such loneliness and resignation. “Because you’re my friend. And I don’t use my friends.”

Yeah. Friends. We’ll fucking see about that.