Then she asked, "What did we just do, Tanner?"
"Uh … thought it was obvious."
She smacked at his shoulder and closed her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"Yeah." He sighed. "Okay, hang on. I'd rather just go to sleep for a while," he grumbled as he slid out of her body. "Can't I just go to sleep?"
Her lips twitched and her eyes opened. "What about that stamina?"
"I have stamina for sex. Not so much for talking." He was only half-joking. "Be right back."
He found her bathroom. The apartment was small and basic, but nice enough. He got rid of the condom and washed up, then returned to find her sitting on the couch, wearing his shirt.
Oh hell yeah, that was a good look on her. Only a couple of buttons done up, her legs bare, hands planted on the couch, at her hips. Her long dark hair was all over the place, and she looked up at him with a cautious expression. Okay, that he didn't like. A protective feeling surged inside him.
"Let's pull out this bed," he said quietly.
She peered at him, her eye makeup smudgy and sexy. "Are you staying?"
"You're gonna make me walk home in a snowstorm?"
One corner of her mouth lifted. "I can loan you cab fare if you're hard up."
He snorted and lifted her off the couch. "I'm staying." He kissed her nose, then reached for the cushions to pull them off. He easily slid out the bed and opened it. Katelyn moved to a storage unit behind the small table and chairs and pulled out pillows and a comforter, and he helped her spread it over the sheets already there.
In the bed, surprisingly comfortable for a pull-out, he leaned against the back of the couch and tugged her into his arms. She moved against him like she always had, fitting herself to him perfectly, arm over his waist, her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair back from her face.
"Okay," he said. "Let's talk. This isn't so bad, is it?"
"I don't know."
"If you're worried about what people will think of you professionally, I don't really believe that matters."
"I'm not so sure of that."
"I'm not your client. I'm just a friend of your clients."
"Yes." She paused. "That's only part of it. I wanted us to be friends so we wouldn't affect the wedding. But now … this might make things even more awkward."
He smoothed his hand down her bare arm. "I don't want things to be awkward between us."
"I don't either."
He paused. He wasn't always good at talking about stuff. His family had never been one to do that. With a revolving door of step-parents and step-siblings that disappeared just when he started to get to know them and care about them, they'd never discussed deeper things. He and Katelyn had talked about a lot of stuff … he'd told her more than he'd told anyone else. But at the end, when they'd really needed to talk, he'd been too afraid of what he was going to hear … so he'd left. "I'm sorry."
"For what? For what just happened?"
"No! Hell no. I'm sorry for leaving you … back then."
She lifted her head and peered up at him, her forehead creased. "You had no choice, Tanner. You had an NHL contract. Of course you had to leave."
"I'm sorry I didn't stay long enough to talk to you about it. I … " He paused. This was the part he didn't like about talking shit out … sharing his feelings. "I was pissed that you wouldn't come with me. I should have stayed … at least to try to work things out."
She went very still against him. He could sense how hard she was thinking.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I was hurt that you didn't do that. And … " She sucked in a big breath. "I'm sorry too. That I couldn't go with you. I'm sorry if I hurt you."
He closed his eyes on a wave of remembered pain.
"I'll tell you … now … more about it," she said in a low voice.
"I know you wanted to stay in your hometown. With your dad, because he was the only family you had, and all your friends."
"You thought I was afraid to leave."
He didn't answer that. Yeah, he'd thought that might be the reason. Lots of people grew up in a town or city and stayed there for their whole lives.
"I wasn't afraid to leave," she continued. "I just couldn't." She rolled away from him and flopped onto her back. "I couldn't say anything … to anyone … back then."