Georgia felt a tremor just remembering the awful sound Leo had made. She never wanted to hear it again. “There was a misunderstanding,” she said, her throat so dry it felt like it might crack in half. “Doulie studies tae kwon do, too. We were talking about one-step sparring for his belt test. So I let him drop me onto the mats. And Leo was quite a ways down the hall. I mean . . . what he saw was O’Doul grabbing me and throwing me to the ground.”
Her father flinched. “Jesus Christ. And he thought O’Doul just grabbed you? Is that really logical?”
Georgia hesitated. She’d seen the look on his face, and it would haunt her. “I’m not sure logic was possible just then. His reaction was more, uh, visceral.”
Her dad clasped his hands together on the desk and frowned. “He panicked.”
“Daddy, he freaked. It was terrifying—for him as well as O’Doul.”
“And how about for you?” her father asked quietly.
Georgia suppressed a shiver. “I’ll be fine. But I think . . .” She sighed. “You and I never talk about my awful year, right?”
Her father winced, then nodded his acknowledgment.
“Well, at the time, Leo was my rock, you know? He stuck close, and he was one of the people who got me through it. But I think it affected him, too.” It filled her with shame to realize she’d never understood it, either. “I think he’s still hurting.”
Her father grunted, then rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. That was all the acknowledgement she was going to get on the subject, and it made her temper flare.
“Daddy, I have no clue what you’ve got against Leo, and I really haven’t wanted to get into it with you. But I swear to God—if you’re going to trade him to Vancouver, you should man up and clear the air with him first. He’s not some stranger you can just toss away.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “Trades are none of your business, little lady.”
“Right,” Georgia snapped. “So send me to my room and ground me for what I’m about to say. You can pretend that you’ve given him the same chance as everyone else on the team, but we both know that’s bullshit.” She stood up suddenly, startling both of them.
“Honey,” her father said, “hold on a fucking second. I’m sure Leo is a good man. But he’d be better on someone else’s team. Somewhere he doesn’t have history.”
Her stomach dove off a cliff. Without a parachute. “That is not fair. His only history is being good to both of us.”
“I think your memory is selective,” her father said quietly.
“How so? Just spit it out, would you? What is your issue with him?”
Her dad shook his head. “I don’t trust him, and that is a perfectly valid reason to send him packing. I need to trust every guy wearing the team sweater. And since he’s landed here, he’s tangled with me and he’s tangled with O’Doul. That’s not good for morale.”
Georgia gasped. “That’s crap, Coach. You greeted Leo with a snarl on his first day, and you want to blame the tension on him? That’s really mature. Maybe I’d be better off working for a different team, too.”
“Honey . . .”
“Don’t,” she warned. “I love this job. I’ve been very happy here. But if you trade Leo to Vancouver, don’t be too startled if I go with him.” She took a step and grabbed the door handle.
“What?” Her father’s voice was full of shock. “Georgia! Get back here. Don’t storm out of here like a teenager.”
She gave him a glare over her shoulder. “You’re in no position to tell me that my behavior is immature.”
At that she left the room and slammed the door with a bang.
THIRTY-TWO
Leo lay on the table, irritated with everyone and everything. He closed his eyes and tried to relax.
Who knew that losing your shit was so exhausting? He closed his eyes for a moment. But when he next opened them, he realized he’d nodded off. Leo sat up fast, his heart hammering. What the hell time was it? His watch said 3:30. He let out a breath. There were still four hours until the puck dropped. That wasn’t so bad.
Someone was tapping on his door, too. As his heart rate descended, he realized that the knocking had probably woken him up. “Come in,” he croaked.
The door opened to reveal Georgia, her soft face looking in at him with concern in her eyes. Shit. The last time he’d seen Georgia, he’d watched someone drop her to the ground . . . Again, his stomach rolled.
“Hi,” she said softly. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah. Of course you can.” He sat up a little straighter, knocking the blanket aside. He hated how weak he’d looked today. A man wasn’t supposed to have trouble keeping his shit together, no matter what.
But then Georgia was standing in front of him, her sweet eyes taking him in, her expression cautious. “Hey,” he said, his voice cracking. Because even though she was perfectly fine, he was too raw inside to believe it. He could still see her body tilt off center, overpowered by an unseen attacker . . . His eyes were suddenly, uncomfortably hot. It didn’t make a lick of sense that he’d associate it with a crime from years ago that he’d never seen and couldn’t have prevented.
Breathe, Leo ordered himself.
“Honey,” Georgia said softly. She stepped up between his knees, put both her hands on his face.
There was nowhere to run. He closed his eyes, a new tremor rippling through his chest. The fact that someone had once hurt her was like a knife through his heart. His precious girl. She had been vulnerable to a fucking psychopath, and there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do about it.
Leo reached for her, pulling Georgia to his chest. He took a deep breath, but it hitched on the way in. And the sound escaping him was way too much like a sob.
She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed while Leo fought for control. And lost. He buried his face in her neck while his eyes sprouted faucets. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m just . . .” Losing my fucking mind.
“I love you so much,” Georgia whispered. “Everything is going to be okay.”
There were no guarantees, though. He’d learned the hard way already that he could bust his ass all day and all night until he was the strongest, most competent punk on the planet and it could all go to hell in a hot second. The more you had, the more there was to lose. He’d spent the last six years trying to forget that. But the truth hurt like a bitch.
He’d never stop trying, though. He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe and happy. If it could be done, he’d do it.
Georgia climbed uninvited onto the exam table, the paper crinkling under her. She sat beside Leo and turned to pull him into her arms. “I’m sorry you’re upset. But what happened before was upsetting. I don’t think I ever realized how it affected you.”
Leo took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re the one who really suffered,” he said.
“That’s not true.” She shook her head. “My dad did, too. And you. But I didn’t have any room in my head to understand it at the time. I was too busy being angry.”
He clamped his arms around her and sighed. “I’m okay, Gigi. I swear.”
“You,” she said, kissing the place just under his ear, “are everything to me. I didn’t say so when I should have, so I hope it’s not too late to say so now.”
The warmth of her body against his was starting to calm him down. “I love you, baby. Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
He stroked her hair. “You did six years ago, and I still don’t understand why.”
“I was panicked,” she said in a low voice. “I’d suddenly lost my faith in everything, all at once. And I thought you were just sticking with me because you felt guilty.”
“No—”
“Shh,” she chided. “I was so full of shame and so scared. I thought that would never go away. The funny thing is that g
raduation was only two months after it happened. When I was eighteen those two months seemed like a lifetime of waiting to feel better. But they weren’t. Just a few lousy weeks. I didn’t know, though. I didn’t understand that time heals.”
Leo had seen some evidence today that time doesn’t always get the job done. But even so, he understood. “I would have waited a hell of a lot longer.”
She sighed against him. “I didn’t trust it, because I didn’t remember how it felt to be happy. I didn’t believe I’d get that back.”
He pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “You make me happy, baby. Just you.” He kissed her on the forehead. “The rest we’ll figure out, okay?”
“Okay.”
There was a knock on the door.
Fuck. “Later,” Leo grunted, pawing at his eyes. There were no more tears, but the red-eyed evidence was surely still there.
The door opened anyway, admitting the stone-faced Coach Karl. Leo didn’t take his arms from around Georgia. He was done worrying about what her father thought of him.
“You weren’t supposed to leave,” Coach said slowly.
“What?” Leo asked. “Leave where?”
“Leave her!” Coach said with a snarl.
“Daddy!” Georgia complained. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Coach came all the way into the room and shut the door. He studied his daughter for a second. “You’re the one who wanted the air cleared,” her father grumbled. “So I’ll clear it.” He turned to face Leo. “I trusted you with my daughter, and I thought you were worth it. But on the worst night of her life, you told her it was over. My little girl freaks out, has a few too many, and gets caught by some sicko. Takes her years to recover, asshole. And now you’re just gonna waltz in and pick up where you left off? That takes balls.”
A stunned silence fell over the little room. Leo’s mind whirled as he tried to figure out what the hell Coach was talking about. “I never left her,” he said. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The phone call,” her father growled. “That night—she talks to you on the phone. Then I call her and she goes off like a firework. ‘Leo upset me. I don’t want to talk. Call me tomorrow, I’m going out to a party.’ Next call I get is in the middle of the night, from the fucking hospital.”
“Daddy.” Georgia gasped. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”
“You were pissed!” he spat. “You said so yourself. At him.” He pointed an accusing finger at Leo.
“Wait a fricking minute. I do not like where this is going,” Georgia said in a voice Leo had never heard before. It was low and full of menace. “You paid thousands of dollars for therapy to convince me that the only person at fault was the rapist. So it’s really nice to hear now that you think Leo and I are also to blame.”
Jesus. Leo put a hand on Georgia’s lower back and began to rub slow circles. As if he could calm her down by osmosis. But he was still confused. “I don’t get it. We didn’t have any fights.” They didn’t, did they? So much had happened right after that random phone call on an April night, he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. But if they’d fought, it had to be over something small. He’d remember.
Georgia turned to him with heavy eyes. “I was upset that night,” she whispered. “But that is not your fault. I never thought it was. I didn’t even remember until now.”
“But why?” he whispered back.
“You said you wanted to talk about next year,” she said. “We were going to different colleges and it was just inevitable that we’d have that conversation. But I was pissed off that you’d bring it up over the phone.”
Leo closed his eyes and tried to think. “I’d been sitting at home looking at airfares.” It was coming back to him now. “I’d figured out that it would be expensive for me to fly from Hartford to Charlottesville to visit you. But that it was pretty cheap to go from Newark. I wanted to talk about airfares.”
He opened his eyes just in time to see Georgia clap a hand over her mouth. And then her eyes filled with tears. Wordlessly, Leo hugged her. How did two healthy people produce as many tears as they did? By ducking all the important stuff, his conscience reminded him. Ah, well. Maybe they might finally get it right this time. “I love you,” he said to Georgia. “Always have.”
“I never blamed you,” she squeaked. “I swear. Even if I freaked out like an idiot, it was never on you.”
“It’s okay,” he said, tucking his chin onto her shoulder. “We’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He risked a look up at Coach, whose face was a stone. The man turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door behind him with a click.
They held each other for a while, until eventually Georgia spoke up. “You might get traded,” she said in a shaky voice. “I don’t know what’s in his head.”
“If it happens, we’ll deal with it. As long as you don’t trade me, Gigi, everything will be fine.”
“There isn’t a better player I’d want on my team.” She sniffled. “You’re the captain for life.”
He kissed her neck. “Don’t make me the enforcer, though. Turns out I’m not that good at figuring out who to hit.”
“We’ll train you up.” She looked at her watch. “You don’t need to be back here for more than three hours. Can we get out of here? If you’re tired, we could take a nap.”
Leo shook his head. “Can’t nap with you. I’ll get ideas. And I can’t get ideas right before a game.”
She rolled her red eyes at him. “Fine. The hotel has a climbing wall. I’m a little rusty but I can probably still take you.”
“No you can’t,” he said, the competitive instinct speaking up right away. “I only have sneakers, though.”
“Me, too,” she countered. “So it’s a fair fight.” She slid off his lap and off the table.
He stood up for the first time in an hour. Maybe he was still a little shaky around the edges. But he felt mostly solid. “Fine. A quick climb to victory, and then we’ll find a snack.” Taking her hand, he followed her out of the room.
* * *
Leo lost the climbing wall race. But he won the coin flip to decide where to eat. He chose a Chinese restaurant, though, because his girl hadn’t had a dumpling infusion in a couple of days, and he liked to watch her dip them in the sauce with her chopsticks.
When they were finished, though, he caught her eyeing him over the rim of her teacup.
“What?” he asked.
Her eyes dipped. “Are you, uh, bringing someone named Honey to the benefit when we get back? Any chance I could talk you into taking me?”
Aw. Leo set down his water glass and grinned at her. “Georgia, there’s nobody with that god-awful name. You were supposed to figure that out.”
“I was?”
“Hell yes. You know that joke? Honey Cove is your stripper name. Your first pet and the street you grew up on. I thought you’d know.”
Georgia slapped a hand in front of her mouth and giggled. “That’s funny. Except the dog’s name was Sweetie Pie.”
Leo barked out a laugh. “Really? Hell, I was close.”
She tipped her head back and laughed. “Not close enough.”
“Shit. You really thought I’d bring someone named Honey Cove to that party?” He balled up his napkin and tossed it playfully across the table. “You must think very highly of me.”
“You are a catch. I swear.”
Laughing, he signaled for the check.
By the time he made it back to the rink, the day’s emotional turmoil had begun to fade. The ache in his chest was replaced by a healthy amount of pregame tension. He changed into workout gear and did some stretches in the dressing room. Then he followed a few teammates to the basement room where the yoga class had been held earlier—the one he’d freaked out in on his way to attend.
O’Doul stood hold
ing a soccer ball under his arm as the circle formed. “You start, rookie,” he said, chucking the ball to Leo. There was no malice in it, though.
Leo took a quick glance around the circle of faces and he liked what he saw. Just a bunch of guys trying to live the dream, the same as he was. With any luck, he’d get to stand in this circle for a good long time. “All right,” he said. “Stay sharp.” He tossed the ball up and then popped it with his knee across the circle to O’Doul. Who headed it to Beacon, who tried to kick it and missed.
“Goddamn,” O’Doul said with a shake of his head. “Good thing he’s good with his hands.”
There was a round of chuckles, and then the game began again. Leo lost himself in the pure, silly pursuit of keeping that black and white ball in the air, and at least for now, all was well.
* * *
On the ice that night, though, everything was just a little off.
Passes didn’t connect. Shots didn’t go in. Coach Karl was a snarling, ornery wreck, and his attitude seemed to hang over the bench like a cloud.
Weirdly, Leo had a great night. He scored one of the Bruisers’ two goals, and he did a good job of anticipating even the ill-timed passes his teammates made. Maybe everyone else was stressed out, but he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.
It wasn’t enough to save the game, but he helped keep their loss to a single goal. It was something. And he was in a mood to count his blessings tonight.
The dressing room was somber after the game. Before he got too far stripping off his pads, Georgia asked him to step into the hallway and talk to a reporter.
This he did without pinching her backside, although in her sexy publicist skirt, it was quite hard to resist. “We fought hard out there,” he said into the microphone. “We’ll get ’em next time.”
It wasn’t the most original statement, but he was too distracted by Georgia’s smile to say anything meaningful.
Back in the locker room faces were long. And they only grew longer when Coach, Hugh, and Nate all entered the room, standing together, facing the team.