And what about the week after that? Or next month or the month after that? Her and Valerie and Pebbles. Maybe she’d travel. Or move. Move far away from Seattle and the Chinooks and Ty. Far away from the pain of seeing them.
And Jules. What was she going to do about Jules? He’d quit his job at Boeing to come to work for her. There wasn’t a whisper of a chance that Landon would keep her assistant. She could keep him on, but in what capacity? Shoe coordinator? Jules would hate that.
At ten minutes after eleven, the phone on her nightstand rang. It was Ty. After every game, she went to his house or he came to hers. Tonight she didn’t answer. She turned the television to a loop news channel and saw that the Chinooks had lost Game Three in overtime and the series was now on to Pittsburgh.
At five the next morning, Ty called again. Faith figured he was just about to board the team jet. She would have to face him, of course. She would have to face him and tell him they couldn’t see each other, but she needed time. Time to first face the truth and compose a good believable lie.
Later that day, she’d convinced her mother that she had a horrible strep throat and a fever of a hundred and two. Since she looked like crap, it really hadn’t been a hard sell. She laid in bed all day, and that night, she watched the Chinooks win Game Four alone in her room.
Ty called that night and early the next morning. He left messages, but she didn’t return his calls. Jules visited her, and she figured she deserved an Academy Award for her performance of a sick patient. Or at the very least, a daytime Emmy. She had to tell him that Landon’s family would be using the box that night at the Key, and that he and her mother would have to sit in the nosebleed section. She made up a lame lie about a promise she’d made to Virgil, but he didn’t believe her. He kept asking her over and over if something had happened that he should know about. And over and over she lied.
That night at the Key, as Landon and his family watched from the owner’s box, Faith watched from her living room a few blocks away. The Chinooks lost Game Five in overtime. It broke her already broken heart, but not as much as hearing her telephone ring and knowing it was Ty. She didn’t think her heart could hurt anymore, but the next two days proved her wrong. Ty stopped calling, which was even more devastating than listening to his angry messages, and the Chinooks lost Game Six once again in overtime. Her team seemed to be imploding and there was nothing she could do about it.
The seventh and final game would be played in the Key to a capacity crowd that would not include Faith.
The morning after the Chinooks’ loss in Pittsburgh, Faith took a shower and brushed her teeth before noon. Her mother was with Pavel, probably at Ty’s, and she was alone. She checked her phone, but Ty hadn’t called. Not that she would answer.
Maybe he’d moved on. Maybe he was over her. Which was good. It was what she wanted, but just not quite so fast.
At ten that morning, someone rang her intercom from the lobby of her building. “If you don’t buzz me up,” Ty said through the speaker, sounding not only tired, but pissed off, “I’m going to call in a bomb threat and the whole building will have to be evacuated.” Her heart pounded in her chest at the sound of his voice.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Grab your umbrella. It’s raining outside.”
She would have to talk to him sooner or later. She’d just hoped it would be later. “Fine.” He appeared at her door less than a minute later. He looked exhausted and angry and delectable and her heart skidded to a stop in her chest.
“You don’t look like you’re dying.” His brows lowered and he frowned. “So why have you been avoiding me?”
“Come in.” She turned and he followed her into the living room. Pebbles jumped and yipped in an effort to get Ty’s attention and Faith had to drag her out on the terrace and shut the glass door. She gave a thought to the dog jumping off, but her luck wasn’t running in that direction these days.
Before she lost her nerve, she turned and said, “We can’t see each other anymore.”
He put his hands on his hips and gazed across the room at her. “Why?”
Her palms were clammy and her chest ached. She folded her arms across her heart instead of running across the room and throwing herself on him. She’d thought up a perfectly good lie last night. Something about Virgil. “I’m a widow.” That wasn’t it. There’d been more.
“You were a widow the past few weeks, and that didn’t stop you.” His gaze lowered to her hand. “Where’s your wedding ring?”
Damn. “I took it off in the shower.” Wow, that was lame. She just couldn’t lie cleverly with him staring a hole through her. Where was Layla when she needed her?
“You’ve taken a lot of showers at my house with it on. Try again.”
Behind her, Pebbles threw herself against the glass. Faith swallowed past the burning lump in her throat. “Being with you is wrong. I can’t do it anymore.” Pebbles barked and ran headfirst into the door. “It should never have happened. You need to concentrate on winning and I need to be by myself.” Again the dog threw herself against the glass and Faith knew exactly how the little dog felt. Her nerves unraveled even more and she glanced at the dog and yelled, “Stop that!” She returned her gaze to Ty, his beautiful blue eyes, and her heart shattered all over again. “I
can’t love you anymore. Please go before Pebbles kills herself.”
His hands dropped to his sides. Instead of leaving, he looked at her for several moments before he said, “Anymore?”
“What?”
“You said you can’t love me anymore.”
Crap. “I meant I can’t be with you anymore.”
“That isn’t what you meant.”
She moved across the room toward the entrance. She had to get him out of her penthouse before she fell apart in front of him. “I don’t love you and I can’t be with you.”
He grasped her arm as she passed and looked down into her face. “You keep mentioning love. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
She tried and failed to pull from his grasp. “Stop.”
“I’ve tried.” He placed one big hand on the side of her face. “I can’t.” He lowered his forehead to hers. “These past few days, not knowing if you were okay, have been hell.”
“I’m okay.”
“I’m not.”
His lips touched hers and she sucked in a breath. “Ty. You have to go.”
“Not yet.” His mouth opened over hers and she felt his kiss everywhere. It poured through her, starting fires in her chest and belly. She held as still as possible, careful not to touch him or kiss him back. “I need you,” he whispered.
She raised her hands but dropped them to her sides before she gave in to her desire to touch him one last time. A sob broke from her throat.
He raised his free hand to the other side of her cheek and he held her face as he kissed her, long and deep, and after several long torturous moments, she placed her hands on his arms and tilted her head to the side. She could not stop herself. She could not stop the pounding in her heart or the fiery need racing through her veins, and she gave in.
He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pleasure and possession. His tongue slid into her mouth, the kiss feeding all the hungry places in her starving heart and soul. All the places that loved him and longed to be with him. When he lifted his head, he looked into her eyes. “Why don’t you start over? Why have you been avoiding me?” His thumbs softly brushed her cheeks. “The truth this time.”
She loved him too much to tell him. “I can’t.”
“You can tell me anything.”
She shook her head. “It’s bad.”
“Have you found someone else?”
“No!”
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he looked relieved. “Then what?”
“It’s best that you don’t know.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Again she shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “Can’t you just leave it alone? Can’t you just take my word that you’re better off not knowing?” Where was Layla when she needed her? The tough one. The one who could resist interrogation and come up with believable lies.
He folded his arms across his chest, the belligerent hockey player. “I’m not leaving until you spit it out.”
Once she told him, he’d leave. He’d go away. Perhaps angry, but he’d have his answer. “Landon has pictures of us,” she relented.
His arms fell to his sides and one brow rose up his forehead. “Virgil’s son?”
She nodded. “I have to sell him the team or he’s going to send them to the newspapers and put them on billboards, like our PR photo.”
“You’re selling him the team?”
“I have to.”
A fire replaced the relief in his eyes and he said, “Like hell.”
She recognized that fire. She’d seen it on the jumbo tran when he faced an opponent in the corners. “I don’t have a choice.”
He stepped back and took a deep breath through his nose. Pebble threw herself against the glass and he walked to the door and let her in. “You have a choice. I’ll think of something.”
“You can’t solve this, Ty. He’ll do it. He’s not bluffing. He’ll ruin you to get what he wants.”
“He can’t ruin me, Faith.” He pointed to Pebbles jumping up on her back feet. “Settle your ass down.”
The dog stopped barking and sat. Faith would have been impressed if she didn’t have more important things on her mind. “He planned to trade you, but I think I’ve convinced him that you broke up with me. So I don’t believe he’s going to now. Which makes your being here too risky. You have to leave. Sneak out somehow, just in case.”
She expected some sort of gratitude. Instead his gaze narrowed even more. “And you weren’t ever going to tell me any of this?”
Her eyes started to water once more. “No.”
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