CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Gavin
Coming home.
That’s what last night felt like. Jas had always been my home base. My starting point. When I was around her, the emptiness didn’t feel so constricting. I kissed the top of her head and hoped last night would put an end to her walls.
Recalling her on top of me sent a rush of blood to my groin. I was rock hard in seconds thinking of her on her knees, sucking the ever-loving-hell out of my cock like it was her last meal. Romantic or not, no one ever worshipped my dick the way Jasmeen did. Even as teenagers I knew I could search far and wide and never find someone who cared for me as much as she did.
Does? I wanted the doubt to be gone.
She’d let me go without a fight, so I could live my dreams, knowing damn well I was crushing all of hers. Regret fell over me, and I held her closer, wishing I had two arms to wrap around her instead of one.
Memories of her clutching my broken arm to her breasts as she shook from her orgasm assaulted me. She was gorgeous, her gray eyes had melted into two puddles of silver, and her long brown hair had touched the tops of her shoulders. And her tits… they were so full and round; a part of me missed them most.
We knew the other’s body. Spent years watching them become what they are. I knew with absolute clarity that if at the end of this stretch in the friend zone, she chose not to be my wife again, I could never be with another woman again. Emptiness awaited me in the aftermath of Jasmeen. The only way I could get through the lonely lays after her was to pretend the women were her. And after a while, pretending to sleep with the woman you love and waking up to a stranger had started to take a severe toll on my sex drive.
For years we suffered apart, and in those years, we hadn’t moved past anything. We’d simply learned to live with the hollowness. I kissed her hair once more and drifted off, falling head first into my nightmare.
I was in much the same position. Crushed under the propellers, screaming for help. Fire and terror burned all around me. But Jasmeen wasn’t on the edge watching me that time. She was pinned under her own propeller. Tears and blood coated her beautiful face. I wasn’t afraid for myself anymore, like a switch being flipped, I was terrified for my heart.
“Jasmeen!” I screamed.
She pushed at the propellers, her legs bent at frightening angles. Blood pooled around her. And all around her body were aster flowers. Hundreds and hundreds of pale purple aster flowers. Her blood soaked into them and their petals turned garnet.
My team stepped out of the trees, sticks in hand, dressed head to toe in our gear. Our colors were gray and orange, and in the blaze of the fire, they looked formidable.
All twenty-one mouths formed two words. Even Coach was there, screaming at me. I searched for Orson, but he wasn’t there. Jasmeen’s body was still. It started to rain, but the rain, instead of putting the fire out, made the flames harsher.
I fought harder, but that only seemed to make my team angrier.
“Give up,” they all mouthed, ridicule thick on their faces.
I watched Jasmeen’s chest stop moving.
My team disappeared.
The flames burned hotter.
The rain wouldn’t stop.
The blood pooling around Jasmeen seeped close to me.
It pooled around me too. My fingertips dipped into the dark pool, smelling thickly of aster flowers and sickening metal.
“Wake up,” I whispered, anguished. “Wake up.”
“Gavin, you have to wake up.”
I gasped, my eyes flying open. Sunlight bled into the room and I held my hand up only to find Jas clutching it. She brought it to her lips and kissed the back of it. “You were dreaming.”
I sagged back down. Instead of closing my eyes, I met hers, holding on to the life churning in them. I clung to the life, used it to snuff out the life I lost the day I crashed.
“We can’t do that again,” she whispered, and I knew she meant hooking up. There was panic and hurt in her eyes. I didn’t have to ask what she was feeling. We couldn’t go slow if my tongue was buried in her tight pink pussy.
She was too scared right now; her fear would make her run. Against my better judgement, I gave in with a nod. She’s scared of me. She was rebuilding her walls right before my eyes. Every brick she slammed in place made me fear my nightmare a little more.
“Let’s focus on getting you better, okay?” She touched my cheek with her hand, stroking me gently.
I soaked up her attention like a fiend. It could be gone one day. Her fear came from a true place. Hope came from a place we never quite grasped. “Yeah, Jas, whatever you want.”
After that, the only time I saw Jas naked was when we showered. She took to being my manager like a wilted flower placed in sunlight. She flourished, spending hours working through my contracts, reworking campaign deals, creating merchandise arrangements. She took to being my manager. As long as she were busy, she didn’t have to talk to me. I spent hours on the couch, melting into my own bones, and fusing my nightmares to my brain. They became so strong, I no longer tried to fight them.
I was in a nightmare, and reality was starting to look fake.
I felt like her friend.
And that’s what she wanted. At least that’s what she thought she wanted. But I saw the intense lust in her eyes the night we hooked up. I saw the searing amount of love she still harbored. I saw the Jas I fell in love with, and I’d get those eyes again.
Leaving my place was something I dreaded. I put it off as long as humanly possible. Lance and Jasmeen did all the shopping, ran all my errands. They were my own personal wall.
I’d been home for a month before Jas brought up the only topic I refused to acknowledge.
My team.
She was wearing a chunky gray sweater and leggings the color of deep plums. Her brown hair was in a bun and she spent the night before painting her nails the same color as her pants as I watched Pulp Fiction for the hundredth time.
She started cleaning the takeout containers and tidying up. I watched her, I always watched her, studying her jawline, the plump curve of her ass in those leggings. She wasn’t wearing panties. My cock twitched. I wanted to tear them from her body and bury every inch of my cock into her. And I wanted her to be close. Just close. She sat as far away, still engaging, still there, but just within reach.
“We need to talk,” she said softly, settling onto the sofa beside me.
I was lying down, and the edges of my six pack were starting to become less noticeable. “I’m getting fat,” I noted miserably.
She sighed and reached over to thread her fingers in my hair. “Fat doesn’t exist. It’s a state of mind. A woman could be a size zero and feel with all her soul she’s not. Some women think I’m fat,” she stated, making me snort.
“You’re a knockout,” I argued.
Her cheeks pinkened. “I’m a size eight, Gav.”
I rolled my eyes and then moved them to the television. “You’re perfect.”
“With you, I always felt that way,” she breathed, and my heart seized.
“Good,” was all I said. Anything more and she’d seal up.
“Anyway,” she continued, an embarrassed huff in her words. “It’s how you feel up here.” She gently tapped my temple. “Don’t be hard on yourself for things you can’t control. Or don’t let your mind put its focus on things that don’t matter right now. You’re gorgeous.”
I ignored her. “I’m tired.”
Getting the hint, she ignored me too. She got closer. “I talked to your coach. I caught him up on everything. He wants to talk to you. Your entire team does. They’re lost without you. And they’re willing to wait. You just renewed your contract, so even if you take off a year, you’ll still have three left.”
The propellers sounded in my mind, and Orson screamed. Jasmeen begged me to help her. If I went back to hockey, I’d lose Jasmeen. I knew that’s what my dreams were telling me. Stop reaching for your past and start reaching for the woman you love. It just so happened that the woman I loved wasn’t ready to pull me out of the wreckage. I couldn’t get up and walk out of it.
If she stayed, she’d had to be okay living in the debris.
For the time being, I had no choice but to work on getting back on the ice. Confusion hurt my brain. I wanted one thing, needed another. And deep down I wanted them both. The ice and my heart. But they didn’t go together anymore. I knew it in my bones.
Jasmeen or the ice?
I had to make a choice.
“What if a year isn’t long enough?” I glared at the TV.
The last time I was forced to make that choice, I chose wrong.
“I don’t know, but in a year, we’ll go from there. If I’m still your manager,” she added.
And I flipped.
Fine. She wanted me to get better, I’d get better. I’d go back to hockey and she could have her fucking wine. “Sounds great,” I lied through gritted teeth. “Anything else? If not, you can do what you’ve been doing, ignoring me. I’m tired.”
“Gav, I’m just doing what you asked me to do.”
“You know, eventually you’re going to have to get over it,” I snapped, turning my head to meet her gaze. “Get. Over. It.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked sadly.
Her denial hurt. Everything hurt. I wanted to be alone. “You have the entire weekend off. Make good use of it.”
She flinched, and I hated that I’d hurt her, but it was better if she left me to rot. “What will you do on your own?”
I didn’t care. She didn’t care either. I settled into the sofa and closed my eyes. I was walking right into a nightmare, but those were normal nowadays.
Jasmeen felt more real in my dreams than she did in real life. Like I hadn’t woken up in that crash.
Maybe none of this was real.
And Orson wasn’t the only one who didn’t make it out of that flight.