Alex (Cold Fury Hockey #1)(83)

I'm affronted, and I can't help it. I pull back and he releases the grip on my chin. I stare at him a moment, and he returns my stare, eyes unblinking. I push away and roll out of bed, turning to look at him again now that there is some distance between us.

"You're mad at me because I've made something of my life? Because I've moved past the trauma of my past?" I know my voice sounds shrill but I can't help it.

Alex moves from the bed quickly and then I'm in his arms. "I'm only being honest, but you didn't let me finish. While I find myself angry and envious and probably a whole slew of other negative emotions, that only makes up a very small part of what I feel when I'm with you. It pales in comparison to the respect I have for you, for the desire I feel. It gets paler every day I spend with you."

I feel the tension leave my body, unaware of how stiff I had been until I heard those words. Pulling my face back, which he had tucked under his chin, I look at him. "Alex … you don't have to be trapped by your past. You've already busted through so many barricades you had in place."

"I know," he says while bringing a hand up to stroke my hair. "I'm trying. I don't want the bitterness I hold toward my past. I want to let it go."

My heart aches for the longing in his voice. I plaster myself back against his body, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly. I feel the thump of his heartbeat reverberating against me, and I squeeze even tighter.

I will do whatever it takes to move Alex completely away from that darkness.





Chapter 23


Alex


I pick up my wallet and room key, shoving both in my back pocket. Bending down in the early morning gloom, I kiss Sutton on the forehead and she stirs.

Opening up her eyes slowly, she stretches her arms above her head and gives me a sleepy smile. She then reaches out and takes one of my hands. "Hey, you. Why are you up so early?"

Standing back up straight, I keep a grip on her hand and squeeze it. "I have a breakfast meeting. I'll be back in a few hours and we can go out for a while and walk around the city. Sound good?"

She nods with a goofy grin on her face and yawns. "Okay."

Bringing her hand to my mouth, I place a kiss on the inside of her wrist and release it. "Go back to sleep."

She rolls over at my command, curling her hand up under her chin, then she's out like a light. I stare at her a moment more, my heart giving that sweetly painful squeeze that comes more often than not when I'm looking at Sutton. She's precariously close to becoming my everything, a thought that scares the daylights out of me. I'm not sure I'm ready for that responsibility, particularly not when I have so many ghosts that continue to torture me. 

Turning away from her, because more than anything, I just want to crawl back in bed with her and spend the day there, I head out of my hotel room. We are staying another night in New York because we have an afternoon game just across the Hudson with the Wildcats. I have an afternoon practice skate, but that gives me a few hours to hang with Sutton. She's going to stay in New York and watch tomorrow's game, so I have her again tonight too, the thought causing a smile to plaster across my face as I walk to the elevator.

After a short ride down to the lobby, I make my way to the hotel's restaurant, which is surprisingly empty, and immediately spot Cameron. We had made plans to meet in New York because that was a shorter trip for him than coming to North Carolina. I'm assuming he arrived last night as he drove in, and he planned to head back after our meeting.

Cameron spots me as I walk toward him and he stands from the table. I haven't seen him in almost three years, the last time when I made a short trip to Hamilton in the summer while I was visiting my hockey coach, who was sick. We look a lot alike in the face but he wears his dark hair in a buzz cut and he's starting to develop a little bit of a gut.

Outside of his looks and knowing that he owns a hardware store in Hamilton, I really don't know much about my older brother at all. I approach him and he looks at me awkwardly, not sure if we should shake hands or hug. I take the decision out of his hands and grab hold of the chair opposite where he was sitting and pull it back. I glance at him briefly and say, "Cameron," then I sit down.

He follows suit, taking the napkin on his plate and placing it on his lap. "It's good to see you, Alex. I caught the game last night … on TV, of course, in my hotel room. You looked great."

My head pops up at that revelation, because as far as I've known, Cameron was not a fan of the sport and never talked to me about my career. I don't even know what to say, so I take a sip of water that had already been poured and cut to the chase. "So how is Dad doing?"

Cameron's face goes slightly red, and I guess he's a little miffed I'm not engaging in small talk. "He's fine right now. They gave him some steroid medications to reduce the inflammation and the bleeding stopped."