Page 86 of Unbound

My eyes flicker over him slowly, affection pulsing from my heart, painful in its intensity. I want to keep him here, against my body and away from everything I know can hurt us. I want to tell him everything, my darkest moments, and watch as he holds them in his hands, careful with them as he’s always been with me.

I want to—but I can’t.

So instead, I press another soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

“Good?” he asks, breathless and still panting. I collapse on top of his big body, lax in his still-firm grip.

“Good,” I whisper; such an understatement. He strokes his hands up and down my back, petting my hair, soothing me slowly in the aftermath. It’s a level of care I’ve never experienced.

I keep my face pressed between his neck and the pillow to hide the tears it brings.

Chapter 39

NOW

Bennett

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

Rhys looks back over his shoulder at me as I finish cleansing my left leg pad. He and Freddy linger in the doorway post-practice; nearly everyone else is gone besides Toren and Holden, who got held after for another extended practice session with LaBlanc.

Freddy hangs off Rhys’s shoulder, a bright grin pulling at the smile lines around his mouth. “C’mon, Reiny—don’t you love me?”

I shake my head with a smile. “I love my ears more.”

Freddy frowns with a huff. “I’m not even a bad singer. Besides, it’s karaoke—you’re, like, supposed to be bad at it. That’s the whole point.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Rhys says, but still gives the left winger another easy smile. Their friendship has blossomed into something deeper since last semester. I don’t want to speculate that I’m being left behind—if I am, it’s my fault. The truth is that it’s easy for Rhys and Freddy because Sadie and Ro are so close.

But I still have to remind myself of that every now and then.

It’s good to see them together. Freddy looks happier than he has since I met him, and Rhys seems settled again, unshakable, the way he’s always been in my mind.

“It’ll be fun, Ben,” Rhys says. “Besides, Freddy bet me that if he scored the last goal at the game, I’d do karaoke with him. So you can come watch my public humiliation ritual. Just come.”

The desire is there. It would be ten times easier to just say yes, even if I changed my mind on the way home. I’d probably even enjoy it, at least somewhat. But I just can’t.

“Maybe,” I say. “I don’t know. I’m pretty tired. You guys go ahead.”

It feels like disappointment even if they both attempt a smile for me, nodding as they dip out together.

By the time I make it to my car, the impulse to check my phone is only growing—though I’ve been avoiding the thought as best I can. I manage to wait this time until I park in the darkened garage. I’m surprised to see a series of texts from Sadie Brown at the top of my notifications.

SADIE BROWN

Didn’t know if this would change your mind, but there’s still room if you wanna join.

Attached is a photo: the amber lighting of a familiar bar, a few neon signs around adding a red cast to the yellow and orange hue. They’re seated at a high-top, and at the center is Paloma Blake, gaze dipped over her shoulder. She’s so goddamn beautiful. Blond hair spills over the blue long sleeve she’s wearing as she glances toward something behind Sadie.

I want to be that something, the focus of her doe-brown eyes.

Fuck it.

I jump out of my car and head upstairs, feeding Seven and showering again before dressing in a T-shirt and flannel. I grab my well-worn Waterfell baseball cap and spin it backward on my head just to tamp down my unruly curls, then check the mirror one last time. My beard is a bit longer than the usual thick five-o’clock shadow I wear year-round now, but I don’t have time to shave.

There’s a riotous mass of butterflies in my stomach at the idea of seeing Paloma, and I’m a little ashamed to admit it makes me speed into downtown Waterfell toward the bar.

The Patio is as close to a country bar as one can get near Waterfell, which really means that once a night they play a Brooks & Dunn song and eventually somebody will probably sing “Tennessee Whiskey” at karaoke—which is currently being sung as I hand my ID to the bouncer and let them stamp my hand before heading inside.