Page 76 of Lawson

“No, you don't get it,” I cut her off. “Blakely, your dad is trying to trade me to the Sharks.”

“What?”

“Do you think for one second that offer came in on its own? What, for the playmaker on one of the worst teams in the NHL? Fat fucking chance. Your dad found out about us, and now I'm on the chopping block.”

She actually looks like she didn’t know, which gives me the tiniest bit of relief that this wasn't some elaborate attempt to put space between us.

“Yeah,” I say. I reach in my pocket and show her the number that her father gave me. “He literally told me about this an hour ago, and now you're dropping this bomb on me. It all makes sense. If you would have trusted me in the beginning, we could’ve gone to him together and he would’ve realized I’m in love with you and have no intention of hurting you or disrupting your career. But now we'll never know.”

“That's not true,” she fires back, but I'm already shaking my head and heading toward her front door. “Lawson, he didn't do this on purpose. I know he wouldn't. I told him how much I care about you. I told him I loved you?—”

“I've got to go,” I say, unable to stay there a second longer. I'm so afraid I'm going to say something I’ll regret more than I already have. But right now, I'm just too messed up, too hurt over the fact that she didn't trust me enough with such a simple secret. Too angry over the fact that I thoughtmaybeI’d earned that interest from the Sharks on my own, but come to find out it’s because of something else entirely.

“Lawson,please. Don't go.”

Her words are tear-soaked, and I pause in her opened doorway, turning to her and wrapping her in an embrace that feels too much like a goodbye. I kiss her because I can'tnotkiss her, wiping away her tears with my thumbs.

“I just need to think,” I say, the words a breath between us. “Okay? I'm sorry. I promise I'm not trying to be a dick. And I'm not trying to put all of this on you. I just...I just need to get my head on straight.”

I want her to know that I'm not leavingher. That I'm not trying to be an asshole. I'm just not in a good headspace right now, and I don’t want to ruin things by staying here in that space.

She nods, but more tears roll down her cheeks, and it takes everything in my willpower to let her go instead of ignoring everything that just happened and kissing her tears away.

But I do let her go, and I close the door behind me.

It's not until I make it back home, replaying the conversation in my head over and over again that I realize she said she loved me back.

And as good as that might feel, ashopefulas that might feel, I’m terrified I may have ruined it.

CHAPTER 17

BLAKELY

“It's been three days, kid,”my dad says after he’s called me into his office after practice. “You've been moping around, and I think I have a right to know what it's about. It's Christmastime, your favorite. I've never seen you this down. What's going on? Are some of the guys giving you a hard time on the team? Because I thought we moved past that?”

Dad's questions roll off his tongue in that quick way that only happens when he's nervous about something. I rub my palms over my face, chiding myself because I thought I'd been hiding it better.

“None of the guys are giving me a hard time,” I say. “No more than usual.”

“Then what has you looking like you're ready to fall over at any minute?”

“If I ask you something, will you be one hundred percent honest with me, Dad?”

Apprehension builds in my chest, knowing I'm about to ask him the question I've been thinking about for three days.

Three days since my fight with Lawson.

Three days since I may have messed up the best thing that ever happened to me.

“You know I will,” he says. “Haven't I always told you that the truth is the best way even if it hurts?”

I nod, and swallow hard. He had always told me that, which is probably why I was so afraid of asking him. His answer could hurt. Badly.

“Did you encourage Lawson to take that meeting with the owner of the Seattle Sharks because of what I told you? Because I told you we were together?” I’d heard from Pax—well, from Monroe who heard from Pax—that Lawson’s agent had set a meeting.

Dad's brows furrow together, a steep sense of hurt shaping his features. “Heck no,” he says. “Do you really think that I would do that? The last thing I would ever do is try to insert myself into your life with that level of control, kiddo. I assumed you knew that by now.”

I blow out a breath, shaking my head. “I'm sorry, Dad,” I say. “I do know that. I really do. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, I'm just... I'm a mess. And I had to be sure.”