Ethan

I sneak a glance at Zach before focusing back on the road, my fingers tapping an incessant beat against the steering wheel. “Do you think it was a stupid idea to ask Jacob to come with me to England?”

It’s been a few days since I visited Jacob at the bakery and dropped the bomb of a question on him. He’s sent a few texts here and there, letting me know he’s still thinking about it and trying to finalize some things at the bakery, but the growing sense of rejection in the pit of my stomach is starting to make me feel uneasy.

Especially now that I know how his skin feels against mine, and how stunning he looks when he’s been caught red-handed.

Don’t go there.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a stupid idea, because what better way to shut down any relationship status questions than showing up with a boyfriend on your arm. But you’ve got that business agreement, right?” Zach asks.

I nod.

“You’ve just gotta make sure that no lines get blurred. From what I know, this loan you’ve given is vital to Jacob and Alex…” He trails off, the unspoken don’t fuck this up for them coming across loud and clear.

“Right,” I grumble.

My hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter, not liking the underlying accusation in his tone. It’s not like I would pull the plug on my deal with Jacob if he ends up saying no. No matter what his answer is, nothing is going to change.

This is completely separate.

Plus, I would never do that.

“What are you trying to say, Zach?”

When Zach mentioned his trip to Hawaii with his childhood best friend Carter, I quickly offered to drive them to the airport, thankful for the distraction.

Zach is my voice of reason. He’s quiet, observant, and has a much more rational head on his shoulders than some of the others.

But now I’m starting to regret my offer.

He sighs, his dark brows furrowing over the bridge of his nose. “He likes you. I can tell by the way he watches you and the way he lights up around you. He seems cautious about it, though, like maybe he doesn’t want to like you the way he does.”

Frowning, I turn my head to look at him again as traffic comes to a halt.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

He rolls his eyes. “Dude. People think that because I don’t say much, I don’t see shit, but I do. I see everything, and the way he looks at you?” He sighs. “He looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.”

“It’s probably some hero complex for helping him out.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “It’s more than that. I see the same look in Kendrick when he looks at Maria, or in Blaine when he looks at Alex. It’s like he’s…enchanted. All I’m saying is, if he says yes, just be careful with him, okay?”

I can’t deny I’m drawn to Jacob. Who wouldn’t be? His bright energy is magnetizing, and I’ve become addicted to the warmth that rushes through my body whenever he smiles at me.

It’s like he sees me. Not my career accolades, the name on my back, or my salary that’s plastered all over the internet. I don’t think he even cares about hockey. Despite us only knowing each other for a few months, I like that he isn’t afraid to call me out on my moods. He doesn’t take my shit, and I really like that sassy personality burning inside him.

Blaine called me out the other day for being a regular at the bakery, and it’s not to fulfill some kind of sweet fix, unlike the guy sitting next to me. It’s all to do with Jacob.

He’s like sunshine personified, and I’m a lazy street cat seeking his warm rays.

But I can’t say I’ve witnessed the look in his eyes that Zach’s referring to. He’s always been kind and welcoming, but I’ve always put his behavior down to politeness, maybe even gratitude for helping him out in a time of desperate need.

Maybe the walls I’ve built around myself have become so high I can no longer see over them.

Like I’ve unconsciously placed an imaginary blindfold over my eyes because my heart can’t get hurt that way.

“Would you be open to that?” Carter asks, leaning forward from where he’s sitting in the back seat.

“Open to what?”

“Dating Jacob,” Carter clarifies. “He seemed nice enough the other day when I met him.”

“He is a good person. He’s very kind and caring; I think he would have a lot to offer someone in a relationship,” Zach adds.

“I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I’m married to hockey, and that’s the way it’s gotta be until the day comes.”

In the corner of my eye, I catch Zach rolling his eyes again. “Until the day comes, really? That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it.”

I raise my brows at his annoyed tone but stay quiet.

“Kendrick and Maria work. Hell, look at Blaine and Alex. Never in a million years would I have put money on Blaine being the one to become a major simp, but he’s making it work, and guess what?” He leans across the center console, his long, dark hair falling around his face. There’s challenge in his eyes. “He still plays hockey. I think you’re just scared, and you’re using hockey as an excuse. You don’t need to wait until retirement to find your man. Don’t you think it would be better to celebrate your final season—whenever that may be—with someone you love supporting you through it?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I’m really regretting driving Zach to the airport now.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say so many words at once,” I mutter under my breath.

Carter snorts behind me.

“We worry about you, man. Just think about it, yeah? You’re getting ol⁠—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m gonna pull over and kick you out right here on the highway, and you can walk to the fucking airport,” I warn with a glare.

Zach snickers, and I can’t help huffing out a laugh.

I love the guy, I really do, but I hate that he’s right. I am deflecting. I’m fucking scared out of my mind that if I let someone in, especially while I’m still playing, something will go wrong.

Then my mind would be focused on that, and my last chance at winning the Cup again would be gone in a puff of smoke.

My stomach twists and tightens, and there’s acid burning up my esophagus as I pace the living room. I’ve just buzzed Jacob up, and every inch of me is on edge. I’m due to leave for England in four days, and even though I would never admit this out loud, I’m hoping with every fiber of my being that he will be coming with me.

And it’s not because I went ahead and purchased two plane tickets, including one that may or may not be in his name.

Call it wishful thinking.

I never knew how much I wanted to just be with him until Blaine planted that stupid idea in my head.

It’s not stupid; it’s brilliant.

Whatever.

When there’s a knock at the door, I rush across the hardwood and then come to a stop. Hand frozen mid-air.

Fuck. I need to get out of my head.

I don’t want him to feel pressured. I don’t want him to think he needs to come with me due to some weird sense of obligation, but in the state I’m in right now, he’ll feel the desperation pouring off me in waves.

Shaking my hands out by my sides, I take a deep breath through my nose before opening the door, putting on what I hope is a welcoming smile.

“Hey, Jacob. Come in.” I step aside to let him through.

“Hi.” He smiles.

When he steps by, I notice he’s holding a glass baking dish covered in aluminum foil. I close the door behind me and motion him to the kitchen, where he places it down on the counter.

“I made you a baked ziti,” he says, his words coming out in a rush as his fingers fuss with the edge of the foil. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten, and…well, I bake when I get nervous, but I ran out of baking supplies at home, which is ironic considering I bake for a living, so the next best thing was pasta, so I made—” He stops abruptly and rolls those gorgeous eyes. “I’m nervous rambling, sorry.”

My lips twitch. “Thank you. I haven’t eaten yet, so it’s appreciated.”

Jacob gives a small nod, looking everywhere except at me.

“Can I get you a drink? Water? Coffee? Wine?”

“Oh, I’d love a glass of wine, please.”

I pour him one and lead him into the living room, taking a seat next to him on the couch. He’s sitting on the edge, his back stiff as a rod. The wine glass is clasped between both hands like he’s worried I’ll take it from him.

“You can make yourself comfortable. You don’t have to sit like you’re in a library.”

He hesitates for a beat, then toes off his shoes and curls his feet beneath his ass.

A rush of warmth fills my chest at how comfortable he looks in my space. It’s not the first time he’s been in my apartment, but this is the first time he’s been here where I’ve been nervous, too.

Jacob takes a sip of his wine before resting the glass on his knee. There’s this contented-but-awkward silence between us, and I can practically hear the wheels turning in his head about how to address the elephant in the room.

I’m about to open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.

“So, I’ve been thinking about your proposition, and I’ve decided I’ll come to England with you, but there are some things I’d like to talk about first.”

My heart flips in my chest. I want to wrap him in my arms and thank him for doing this for me, but I try to play it cool instead. The last thing I want to do is spook him, so I simply nod and let him continue. “Fire away.”

“Firstly, nothing changes with our agreement. My business is my priority, and I can’t let Alex down again.”

I want to argue that he didn’t let Alex down, but that’s a conversation for another time.

“Of course. Everything will remain the same. You have my word.”

He gives a small smile. His hunched shoulders drop slightly.

“Secondly, I would like to know why it’s so important for you to have me play your boyfriend. Are you hiding from something? Or someone?”

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair, then rest my arm on the back of the couch, picking at the seam of the cushion.

I haven’t opened up about Ian in a long time. I knew Jacob would ask, and even if he hadn’t, I would’ve told him eventually. I wouldn’t have allowed him to be blindsided.

“I’m not a big fan of weddings in general, but my ex-fiancé is the best man in this one.”

Jacob blinks, clearly surprised. I watch as he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before finally asking, “You were engaged? When was this? I had no idea.”

“Nobody knows, not really.” I lean back, closing my eyes briefly, as I dig into the part of my past that I’ve buried deep. “We met when I’d just turned seventeen. I had a short break in the summer, so Mom and I went over to England for a week to visit her family. There was this pub she loved to go to, and every Friday they would host a quiz night. I didn’t really want to go, but it made her happy, so I went, and as soon as we walked in, I saw him.” I glance out the window, focusing on the still water of the lake. Hoping the calmness will ease the thundering of my heart against my ribs.

“I was drawn to him. I found out he was friends with my cousin, Samantha—she’s the one who’s getting married—and we started hanging out every day. By the time I had to leave, we weren’t ready to be done. It didn’t feel right to simply put the connection we had down to a summer fling and be done with it, so we did the long-distance thing. He visited me in Toronto, and when I was drafted, he came to visit me in Chicago. He was at university at the time, so once he graduated, he moved out here.”

“You were drafted at eighteen, right?”

I raise a brow, the corner of my lips kicking up. “Have you been researching me, Jacob?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I have. I don’t really know you aside from you playing hockey with Blaine, so I needed to know the little things before I meet your family. You know, your star sign, where you grew up, and a bit about who you are. A boyfriend would know.”

I chuckle. He really thought this through.

“What’s my star sign?” I ask.

“You’re a Cancer, which is good because it means we’re a good match as I’m a Pisces.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’ve got it covered.” He waves me off and takes another sip of his wine. “So, what happened after he moved to Chicago?”

“When I look back, it was when he moved here that the cracks started to show. We’d get into arguments over little things, and whenever I had team obligations, such as charity functions or dinner with the guys and their partners, he would get angry at me, even though he was invited, too.”

“Angry about what?”

A burning sensation travels through my veins. I’m angry at the memories I’ve kept suppressed for so long. “He would complain that I never had time for him, and it was unfair that I had to do all those things when I’d been on the road for so long.”

Jacob’s nose scrunches up. “But that’s part of your job! You have sponsors to keep happy, charities that need your name to help bring in donations. If he was invited, why didn’t he just go with you?”

I shrug.

I wish I had an answer for that, but he wouldn’t tell me. His go-to answer was that I wouldn’t understand. But how could I even begin to understand if he wouldn’t tell me what I needed to fix?

With a sigh, I confess, “I thought if I proposed it would show him I was serious about us, and it did get better for a while. We were going to get married in Mexico, and it was his idea to arrive at the airport separately. He said something about it being similar to spending the night apart before the ceremony, only he never showed up.”

My throat tightens, a dull throb forming at the base. This is the first time in a decade that I’m allowing myself to remember how I really felt that day.

The shock. The confusion. The humiliation.

The way my heart cracked in two. Left in a million pieces on the pristine O’Hare floor.

“I waited for hours by the check-in desk. I called and texted. Nothing. I stood there, listening to the final call for our flight. Security kept coming over to question me as I was pacing and getting distressed, until he finally texted me, saying he couldn’t do it anymore. That he was done pretending to love me, and it was all over. It was like my world imploded. I didn’t know what I did wrong or what happened for him to leave without saying goodbye. It was like being seven again, coming out of hockey practice and realizing my dad wasn’t coming to pick me up. That he was never coming home.”

Fuck!

Why did I blurt that out? As if it wasn’t bad enough that I’d opened up my wounds to Jacob, I had to bring up the person I hated the most.

Unable to sit still any longer, I get up and walk to the sliding doors that lead onto the balcony. My muscles quiver with the anger flowing through my bloodstream. I flex my fingers before balling them into a fist and shoving them into the pockets of my sweatpants.

I’m too on edge to hear Jacob approaching. His soft breath against the bare skin of my arm startles me.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice cracks, thick with emotion.

“It is what it is,” I mumble between clenched teeth.

“Well, it shouldn’t be. Nobody should have to go through something like that, on both counts.”

Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t want to see the look of pity in Jacob’s eyes. This is why I don’t tell people about Ian or my dad. They give me the same pitiful look, and it makes me so fucking angry.

“Ian is a dickhead for not having the courage to speak up and give you the opportunity to work on whatever he deemed was broken, but mainly for not appreciating the incredible man you are.” He runs his hand smoothly up my bicep, gently motioning for me to turn and face him. The sunlight sparkles in those blue eyes, and just the sight alone makes me want to cave.

Jacob barely reaches my chin, but he stretches up to cup my jaw. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to resist leaning into his touch.

“But most of all, I’m sorry that the man who is supposed to love you unconditionally left you when you were too young to understand. Being a father is a gift. It’s a title you need to earn, and I’m sorry that he didn’t stick around to get to know the wonderful son he was given.”

Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I allow myself to get lost in the feel of his thumb caressing the stubble lining my jaw.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

I open my eyes to see him smiling. “For what?”

“For telling me. I can sense that you struggle trusting people, and rightly so, given what you’ve been through, so thank you for telling me.” His eyes gleam as he pokes a finger into my chest. “Now, I’m going to be the best damn fake boyfriend ever. Little ol’ England won’t know what hit it.”

I snort, thankful he’s lightening the mood. For being the sunshine I need to help me escape the dark gray clouds. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep,” he answers firmly, popping the P.

He drops his hand and although it was only a finger against my chest, I miss the contact instantly.

“And as for you, your first boyfriendly duty will be taking me for afternoon tea. I want the quintessential British experience. This needs to be the most unforgettable vacation.”

I’m sure I can make that happen.

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