Right Man, Right Time
: Chapter 19

“What do you think? Please don’t lie to me,” I say to Ross as we hang out in the hotel we’re staying in for the weekend. One of the companies Ross worked with closely over the summer gave him a free staycation trip. So we’re staying in a very fancy hotel in Vancouver for the weekend.

“I think Roberts is going to hate them all.”

“Ugh,” I groan. “But I need to turn in something to him this weekend. I’m already behind.”

“Maybe because you’ve been consumed with sticking your tongue down a certain hockey player’s throat instead of asking him questions.”

“Can you even blame me?”

“No.” Ross shakes his head. “I really can’t.”

“What the hell am I going to do, Ross?”

“Well, I can tell you one thing, he won’t want to hear about snacks at a hockey game.”

“The nachos were phenomenal, though. That seems like a Vancouver secret.”

“I’m not denying the quality of nachos we had at the game, but I am questioning your sanity. Roberts won’t give you credit for your internship if you turn in an article about nachos when he wants an in-depth article on the Agitators organization.”

“Yeah, well, I have zero information regarding the Agitators other than they treat their families and players with respect.”

“So maybe go with that,” Ross suggests. “It might not be what Roberts wants, but it’s a twist on the story. You could start it off with how intimidating the organization is, but you were surprised to replace they were nothing but welcoming, especially to a newcomer.”

“Yeah, that could work,” I say, my mind starting to turn with ideas.

“See, that’s what I’m here for,” Ross says as he tugs on the lapels of the hotel-provided robe he’s wearing and then sips champagne from his champagne flute like a freaking king.

“You’re really living up this moment, aren’t you?” I ask as I set my computer to the side and lie on my stomach across my bed.

“I don’t ever get sent gifts, so yes, I’m going to soak it all up.”

“I feel like you’re still on a high from being with Ian Rivers.”

Ross smirks. “That too.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“I have. He texted me this morning and asked how I was.”

“How cute,” I say. “Are you planning on meeting up again?”

“He wants to take me out on a date when they return from their away trip. I told him I’d love to.” Ross stares up at the ceiling. “He has easily the nicest body I’ve ever seen.”

I think Silas could give him some competition, but that’s just me.

“Well, I’m glad you went for it.” My phone lights up next to me, and I see it’s from Silas.

I swipe open the text.

Silas: Can we talk?

I twist my lips to the side, concerned.

“What’s that look for?” Ross says.

“Silas wants to talk.”

“So talk.”

“I don’t think I’m ready.”

“What do you mean?” Ross asks as he wets the rim of his champagne flute with his tongue.

I sit up and cross my legs on the bed. “Okay, so I went to his place yesterday to work out. I knew he was going to come home, so I took a shower and found him in the sauna. Well, let’s just say, things happened in there.”

“What kind of things?”

I run my finger over the comforter and say, “I gave him head, and then he returned the favor.”

“You saw his penis?” Ross turns toward me now, fully invested. “I won’t ask for details, just tell me . . . was it pierced?” I nod, and Ross groans. “God, that’s so hot.”

“So hot, but when we were done, I saw this almost dead look in his eyes.”

“Really?” Ross asks. “What do you mean?”

“Like . . . he was upset that I seduced him, and I don’t know, it made me feel awful. Like, I assumed that once he finally had a taste of me, he’d give in to his feelings, but instead, he looked upset, pensive. I don’t know, I think I messed things up, and him wanting to talk is him wanting to call everything off.”

“Ah, I see,” Ross says. “Well, there’s only one way to replace out.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to replace out. I just want to lie here, drink champagne, and believe I’m not about to get my heart ripped out of my chest.”

“You like him that much?” Ross asks.

I flop on my back and nod. “Yes, I like him that much.”

SILAS: I know you’re busy with Ross, but I’d really like to talk with you.

I stare down at the text, my chest twisting in pain, my gut churning with uncertainty. Ross is currently taking a bath, enjoying every aspect of our suite as I sit here with a computer on my lap, attempting to write a story that I know Roberts will reject.

Knowing I need to text Silas back, I pick up my phone.

Ollie: Maybe we just save the conversation for when you get back.

I set my phone down but immediately see that he’s texting back, so I pick it back up.

Silas: I can’t wait to have this conversation.

My lip trembles as I stare up at the ceiling. Dammit. Yup, he wants to break things off.

I’m so stupid.

The sauna idea was so stupid.

Pushing him too hard was so stupid.

Because look where it’s gotten me. Instead of slowly trying to win him over and make him feel comfortable, I’ve created chaos in his life, and now he wants to get rid of that chaos.

Ollie: Well, I’m busy at the moment. Maybe we can talk later, okay?

I flip my phone face down and ignore the buzz from his text as I focus on my article. Come on, be intelligent, Ollie. Write something intelligent.

Don’t focus on the fact that Silas is about to destroy your heart.

“I COULD GET USED TO THIS,” Ross says as he picks up another Danish from the Danish basket. “Room service was created by someone who loves people, truly, from the depth of their souls loves people. Who doesn’t like to laze about their room, with an impeccable view, I might add, and eat pastries from a basket?”

Taking a sip of my coffee, I offer him a smile.

I got no sleep last night—absolutely none. I received a few more text messages from Silas, but I left them unanswered because I honestly can’t handle the emotions swirling through me. I’ve done everything, and I mean everything, to get this man to give in to his feelings and give me a chance, but I’ve failed every step of the way, and that’s . . . that’s embarrassing.

I honestly thought I had a chance at being with him, that I could change his mind, but at the end of the day, when it all comes down to him letting go of his past and moving forward with me, he won’t do it.

And I know he doesn’t like Sarah anymore—he’s told me that several times—but she still controls him. She still has the upper hand, and I can’t compete with that. I’ll never be able to.

I just don’t want to hear him tell me that we’re done. I’ll be crushed, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

“You know, I can see that you’re trying to act like everything is okay, but I can tell it’s not,” Ross says.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I feel like that’s what we’ve been doing the entire time we’ve been here.”

“Because you’ve had a sour face the entire time. Look at the cart in front of us, Ollie. There’s a freaking pastry basket right there. It’s our dream, and you’re sad.”

I hug my pillow to my chest. “It’s because I’m sad.”

“Maybe you should talk to him.”

“And what, have him tell me it’s over?”

“Wouldn’t it be better than living in this limbo? At least if he does break it off, I can invest in a pastry basket to go so we can eat our feelings.”

I lightly smile. “Very true.”

My phone dings with a text, and I know it’s Silas. On a heavy sigh, I open it up, but instead of a text from him, it’s from Winnie. Why is she texting me?

Winnie: Hey, I know you’re away right now, and I really don’t want to get into people’s business, but Silas is really trying to talk to you, and I think you need to hear him out. They’re leaving in an hour.

I sit taller and stare down at the message.

“What is it?” Ross asks.

“It’s Winnie, Pacey’s fiancée. She said Silas really needs to talk to me.” I press my hand against the necklace he gave me. “What if he has something important to tell me? What if something happened to him? I don’t think she’d text me if he was going to break up with me. Do you?”

“That would be pretty shitty if she did.”

I type back a text.

Ollie: He does? Is he okay?

Winnie: He just really needs to have a conversation with you. If you want, I can give you the address of their private airport.

Ollie: Please, I’d love that.

I hop off the bed and run to the bathroom, where I flip on the shower.

“I’m assuming you’re going to go talk to him?” Ross asks from the bedroom.

“Yes, but first, I need to get this stink off me.”

ALL I’M GOING to say is thank God for Winnie because there is no way I’d be able to get through the gates of this airport without her calling ahead and making arrangements. Even at that, as I sit here in the front reception, I have a security guard watching my every move. It’s incredibly uncomfortable knowing at any moment, he’d have no problem tackling me to the ground and dragging me out of here by the foot.

I felt bad leaving Ross, but he told me he had no issue. He was going to take one more bath before he checked out, and having some alone time was just what he needed since, apparently, I brought down the climate.

I told him I owed him big time, packed my stuff, and quickly skirted out of the hotel.

I wish I had more time to fix my hair and makeup, but I didn’t want to miss Silas. So I went with a fresh face, hair in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing his hoodie and a pair of leggings. I easily could pass off as a fangirl . . . hence the security.

As my foot bounces up and down, waiting for Silas, a few players trickle in. No one that I know, though. I feel like I maybe saw Holmes, but I can’t be sure.

I check the time on my phone and glance around, hoping Silas comes soon. He hasn’t texted this morning, which makes me believe he gave up, and I don’t blame him. You can only text a person so many times before you realize they don’t want to talk.

The door opens, and Pacey walks in, followed by Hornsby . . . and Silas. I stand from the chair I’ve been waiting in, and my mouth goes dry as he glances up and spots me.

He stutters to a stop as he tries to understand what I’m doing here. Pacey sees me too, so he offers to take Silas’s bags. Silas hands them off, and then, looking so good in a three-piece suit, he walks over to me.

“Hey,” I say as a greeting.

“Ollie.” He sounds breathless. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, well, you said you needed to talk, so here I am.”

“I wanted to talk last night,” he says.

“I know, but I was, uh, just not up to it.”

He glances over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I’m not going to have this conversation here.”

Oh God! He did want to break up with me. And here I am, like a freaking fool, thinking that it’s something else. Of course he doesn’t want to break up with me in the middle of the airport reception area. No one wants a crying person in public.

“Right.” I try to smile, but my lips tremble, deceiving me. “I get it.” My eyes water. Dammit, Ollie, hold it together. “We can just, uh . . .” A tear floats down my cheek, and I quickly swipe it away. “We can talk when you get back.”

I turn to walk away, but he steps in front of me, his hand on my stomach. “Ollie, wait.” He lifts my chin. “Why are you crying?”

I will my tears to stop as I hold back my emotions, my throat feeling so thick with emotion that it makes it hard to speak. So softly, I say, “I know . . .” I clear my throat. “I know you want to end our agreement, okay? I’m just . . . I’m not handling it well.”

I swipe at my eyes again.

“What makes you think that?” he asks.

I look around and notice no one is near us, so I say, “I saw it in your eyes the other day, Silas. You don’t want this, and that’s okay. I get it. Does it hurt because I really like you? Yes, but it’s something I can get over.” I try to walk away again, but he stops me.

“I don’t want you to get over it,” he says softly. “I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?” I ask, surprised.

“Ollie.” He cups my face and runs his thumb over my tear-soaked cheeks. “I wanted to talk because . . . because I don’t want this to be an agreement anymore. I want us to be real.”

Hope springs in my chest as more tears fill my eyes. This time, they’re tears of joy. “Really?”

“Yes, but I need to work through some things.” He wipes away another tear. “Did you think this whole time I was going to call things off?”

I nod, feeling foolish.

“Ollie, come here.” He pulls me into his strong chest and wraps his arms around me. He lowers his head and speaks closely to my ear. “I’m losing my mind over you. There’s no way I could just end it.”

I cry into his chest as he holds me.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get here,” he whispers again. “But I don’t see a situation where I don’t try to make this work for us. I just . . . I just need to talk to you.”

I glance up at him and run my finger over the scruff on his jaw. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts. I was so sick to my stomach.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. Okay?”

I nod and then lift on my toes, pressing a kiss to the bottom of his mouth. He cups the back of my head and angles my jaw for better access to my mouth. Before I know what’s going on, his lips are on mine, and his tongue swipes against mine. I grip his suit coat as I let him take me for a ride, his mouth doing all the work.

It’s delicious.

It’s meaningful.

Nothing about this kiss is dead.

It’s full of passion and everything I’d ever want when it comes to this man.

When he slowly pulls away, he cups my head and hugs me one more time. “Fuck, I wish I didn’t have to leave.”

“Me too.” I smooth my hands over his chest. “Will you call me when you land?”

“Yeah, babe . . . will you answer?” He lifts a brow at me, and I chuckle while nodding.

“Promise.”

“Good.” He kisses me one more time and sighs. “I have to go.”

“Okay, safe trip. Text, call, FaceTime, send me nudes . . . all of the above.”

“You do the same,” he says and offers me one more kiss before taking off. He steps away, glances over his shoulder, and smirks at me.

Be still my heart . . . he’s so freaking sexy. When he’s out of sight, the security guard comes up to me with an expectant look on his face.

I turn toward the exit and say, “See, I told you I wasn’t lying.”

“All right, move it along.”

SILAS: Hey.

Ollie: Is that really going to be your opening line?

Silas: It was going to be “send me a picture.”

Ollie: Aren’t you on the plane?

Silas: Yes, but we can still text.

Ollie: Oh, I see, so what you’re trying to tell me in a not-so-subtle way is that you miss me and can’t wait until you land to communicate.

Silas: Basically.

Ollie: Well, I will have you know, I sobbed in my car when I left the airport.

Silas: Why?

Ollie: Because I’m happy and mad at myself for not talking to you yesterday. I could have spent the night with you. Instead, I spent the night in fear, my stomach twisting in knots.

Silas: If it helps, I felt the same way.

Ollie: Can I ask you something?

Silas: Ask me anything.

Ollie: In the sauna, were you mad at me?

Silas: Was I mad at you? Are you fucking kidding? Ollie, that was . . . fuck, I still think about your mouth on my cock.

Ollie: But afterward, you seemed angry. I was afraid I pushed you too hard.

Silas: I wasn’t angry, and if I was, I was probably angry with myself for giving in when I’ve been so determined to hold back.

Ollie: Are you sure?

Silas: Positive. I wanted you to stay.

Ollie: Why didn’t you stop me?

Silas: Something we can talk about later. Can I FaceTime you tonight? I really need to get some shit off my chest.

Ollie: Yes, call anytime.

Silas: Thanks.

Ollie: Can I tell you something?

Silas: Yes.

Ollie: You have the nicest cock I’ve ever seen, and I’ve watched a lot of porn.

Silas: LOL.

Ollie: Seriously, I dream about it. I want my mouth on it again.

Silas: Babe, you’re going to make me hard on the plane.

Ollie: I’m just telling you the truth. I loved every second of sucking your dick, and I want to do it again.

Silas: Christ.

Ollie: Miss you already.

Silas: Miss you.

SILAS: Finally in our hotel.

Ollie: Call me whenever, just in my room.

I’ve thought about this conversation all night and what he might say, what we might talk about. I’ve even tried to figure out what I should wear, which seems so stupid because it’s a phone conversation, but I feel nervous.

I decided to opt for his sweatshirt and keep things the way he left me, but I’m cuddled into the weighted blanket he gave me, surrounded by the scent of his cologne.

My phone rings, and I quickly answer it, holding it in front of me.

His handsome face appears, and I feel everything in my body relax.

“Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey, babe,” he says as he lies on his hotel pillow.

“How was the flight?”

“Fine.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Las Vegas,” he answers.

“Ooo, are the boys headed out on the town?”

“Probably some of the guys. Most of us are tucked into our rooms.”

“Run across any women trying to claw their way into your bed?”

“There were some in the lobby, but security doesn’t let them up. You need a key card to get up to the rooms. And you realize you don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“I know,” I answer. “I just replace the whole thing fascinating. Life of a professional athlete, it’s a different world.” I pause and say, “Hey, that might be a good article to write. Would you mind that? If I wrote about your general grind and commitment to play your sport?”

“No, that’s fine. We’ve had articles written about us along the same lines.”

“That’s not getting too close to comfort for you?” I ask.

“Not at all. Roberts might like it.”

“Better than my nacho idea.” I sigh. “I’ve been struggling with this article, and Roberts has been harping on me for a first draft. I’ve pushed him as far as I think I can go when it comes to extra time. I started writing something about how welcoming the Agitators are, but there wasn’t much meat to it. I think I could work with this.”

“Feel free to ask me anything.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” I get comfortable on my bed. “So . . . what do you want to talk about?”

“Us,” he answers.

“What about us?”

He rolls his teeth over his bottom lip and says, “This would have been easier in person, but I really need to just . . . to just say it.”

“Okay,” I say, listening intently. “I promise, whatever you have to say, it’s safe with me.”

“Thank you, baby,” he says softly, then looks away. It takes him a few seconds, but he finally says, “I was going to propose to Sarah.” Oh, this is the conversation he wanted to have. Well, now I feel like an even bigger ass because it would have been better in person. “I thought she’d be the girl I spent the rest of my life with.” I know this, so I just nod. “And I had a ring picked out and everything. After a game one night, I came home, looking for her.” His eyes dart to the side, and I can tell this is really hard on him.

“It’s okay, Silas,” I say. “Take your time.”

“I came home and found her in our bedroom with another woman and a man watching them.”

My breath freezes in my lungs as I try to comprehend what he’s saying. Sarah cheated on him . . . with another woman and a man?

“Oh my God, Silas. I’m so sorry.” No wonder he has trust issues. How can I not feel for this man?

He drags his hand down his face and whispers, “Fuck, I’ve never said that out loud before.”

“I can understand why. That must have been so hard on you.”

“It was,” he says. “I was . . . I was devastated. We rarely had sex, especially toward the end of our relationship, and now I knew why. I just keep wondering, how long was she cheating on me? She suggested it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d cheated. So how long was I the idiot who didn’t know what she was doing when I was gone? She said four months, but fuck, I don’t believe her.”

“Have you asked her?”

He shakes his head. “No, probably best that I don’t fucking know. It will only make me angrier. And I’m trying to release this anger. I want to be able to be healthy for you, Ollie, that’s why I’m telling you this, why it’s been so hard for me to open up to you, to let you in.”

Yeah, she stole his trust and made it impossible for him to put himself out there again. I don’t know how someone recovers from a situation like that.

“I get it. And I’m so sorry Sarah put you through that. She didn’t deserve you, and she proved that. I don’t have much to say that will be helpful other than I’ll be patient with you. I’ll give you time. I promise I won’t push, and I’m sorry I pushed before.”

“I’m glad you did,” he says. “Or else I never would have let you in. You pushing has helped me move past this fear I’ve been holding on to.”

“What fear is that?” I ask.

“That maybe I don’t deserve anyone. That something is wrong with me. That I’m not loveable, and that’s why Sarah cheated on me.”

“Silas.” I sit up. “Please don’t believe that, not even for a second. Because the man I’ve grown to know is worthy of everyone around him. He’s loyal and protective and so fucking loveable. The people who hurt us are the people who are hurting inside. They hurt others because they don’t know how to deal with their hurt. Sarah is the one in the wrong. She’s the one who isn’t worthy or loveable, not you.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares off to the side.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Fuck.” He rubs his eye with his palm. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For not being strong enough.”

“You can’t be perfect all the time, Silas. No human is. The best thing about us as humans is just how imperfect we are. It shows how we’ve survived, how we’ve journeyed through life. It gives us wisdom and practice for how to protect our future. There is no need to always be strong, especially with me.”

His eyes connect with mine through the phone, and I can see how much tension has eased from them. “How are you so fucking smart?” Because for the first eighteen years of my life, my grandma made sure to tell me that. That every setback brings about growth. Endurance. Even though my dad tried to tell me otherwise.

“All my years of being told I won’t amount to anything,” I say. “You quickly learn how to drown out the hate and build on it instead.”

“I’m good at drowning out the hate and using it as fuel on the ice.”

“That’s different. Sports are different. That’s physical. What Sarah did to you, that’s emotional, and being emotionally vulnerable is harder than shooting a puck past a goalie.” I wet my lips. “But I’m so glad you shared with me, Silas. It means more to me than anything, and I promise, this stays between us.”

“Thank you.” He pauses and then asks, “Does all of this make you look at me differently?”

“Yes,” I answer. “But probably not in the way that you’re thinking. It makes me fall for you even more. Because now you’ve let me see a piece of your heart. I see your warmth. Your fear. It makes you more human, and I love that. If anything, you’re even more sexy than before.”

That causes him to smirk. “If that was even possible.”

“Oh my God.” I roll my eyes, causing him to laugh.

“In all seriousness, babe, thank you. It will take me a second to process all of this, and I can’t promise it’ll be easy. I’m still struggling with trust. I still have that deep-rooted fear of opening up to others, so I’ll need you to be patient with me.”

“I’ll be patient, Silas, because you’re worth it.”