Chapter 28

Simone

I jerk sideways and my eyes fly from Van to Xander.

Xander is chuckling. “Okay, Van…when did you fall in love with Simone?”

My jaw drops as I turn to look back at Van. He settles into the cushion, crosses one leg casually over the other, and flips his arm across the back of the couch behind me.

“There were feelings always there,” Van says, and my jaw drops further. I feel like I’m dreaming, or maybe I’m in some even weirder version of The Twilight Zone. I’m listening to Van bare his soul about me to another man.

A reporter.

For a magazine.

And I’m hearing it for the first time as he tells this reporter.

I shake my head, hard enough I hope to perhaps jar things back into perspective.

“Take for example when Simone nearly got crushed under our kitchen refrigerator. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more scared in my life, and well…you know a lot about my life. There was a lot of scary shit in it.”

I let out a quavering breath, realizing that Van is actually talking about how his feelings developed for me. And while he’s answering another person’s question, I also get he’s telling me this as well.

“Or maybe I started to fall for her when she kissed me in a dive bar to shake her brother up, to prevent him from making a mistake. I was pissed she did it, and I never told her this, but I also admired the hell out of her for doing it. For doing something out of love for her brother.”

“What was her brother going to do?” Xander asked, poised to get some juicy stuff on Lucas.

“None of your fucking business,” Van says casually, but clearly that subject is off-limits. Then he continues as if that question had never been asked. “Maybe it was in the moments after Simone found out the truth about my father, and rather than running, she curled up in my lap and told me she had my back.”

Van’s voice softens as his gaze drops to his lap. “Yeah…something happened that night that changed things.”

When he looks back up to Xander, he shrugs. “I don’t know. Every fucking day I fell a little more, even as I was fighting it. But there was one absolute clear moment when I know…I knew I was already there.”

“And when was that?” Xander prods. I seem to have been struck dumb, as I can’t even think of a thing to add to this conversation that’s about me, yet is not including me.

“I pushed her away,” Van says quietly as he turns to look at me. He picks up one of my hands, brings it to his mouth, and kisses it. When he lays it back down on his thigh, keeping his fingers wrapped around mine, he turns back to Xander. “I walked back into our hotel room later that day and she was gone. And I knew right then, without a doubt, I’d already fallen in love with her. Maybe it was when I thought she’d been crushed by the fridge, or when she earned her brother’s ire by kissing me. I don’t know and it doesn’t matter when. I just know that I realized it for sure in that hotel room, with brutal clarity and a whole lot of fucking pain because I’d pushed her away.”

I can’t help the small gust of air that slips past my lips over the shock from what he’s saying.

Then Xander is forgotten and Van turns on the couch to face me. Still holding one hand, he brings the other to my cheek. “Simone…I didn’t know what I’d lost until I lost it. I didn’t even fucking know it was love until it was gone. But I know now. I know that you are it for me. I will never love another soul the way I love yours.”

Everything I ever wanted to hear from Van has just been laid out before me—albeit in a slightly different way than I had imagined a romantic makeup scene would unfold. But I’m cautious. I have to be to make sure he really is ready for everything I am.

“You run when you get scared, Van,” I point out to him. “You close yourself off. Your pushing me away was the most hurtful thing that has ever happened to me in my life and I’m not able to handle that. Right now…I look at you, and what I know for sure is that you were my first heartbreak.”

This doesn’t offend Van. He tilts his head and gives me an understanding smile. “Yeah? Well, you were my first everything, Simone. My first love. First devotion. My first heartbreak. My one and only relationship with a woman. You were my first confidant and companion. Simone…you were my first friend ever. My first…everything.”

And the tears come. Big, fat drops that don’t sneak up on me but fill my eyes quickly and spill over the edges.

“Oh, baby,” Van says softly as he brings his other hand to my face and wipes my tears away as they fall.

A sob pops out over the sweet sympathy and regret in his voice. He pulls me into him, pressing my face into his neck so his hand can stroke my back.

“I’m sorry, Simone,” Van murmurs as I cry against him. “Please forgive a stupid, foolish, and scared man for reacting very badly to a stressful situation. You don’t know how bad I feel about not only hurting you, but causing you to run to Quebec. I know you fucking stayed away from the rest of the games because of me, and that kept you from being with your family. I ruined that for you, and I’ll kick myself in the ass over and over again for that.”

I shake my head vigorously and pull back to look at him. “That was my choice.”

“But the option was there because of me and my douchebag ways,” he argues.

At this I snort with laughter, because this has gotten a little ridiculous, and we are still letting this all play out in front of a reporter.

“Can I kiss you?” Van asks me.

“Is that really the most important question?” I reply.

He doesn’t need to think long. With a sheepish grin, he asks, “Am I forgiven?”

“Do you really love me?” I ask him with a slightly skeptical arch to my eyebrow.

“After exposing my feelings to a reporter who will share this with the world, you still doubt me?”

I study him for a moment. His beautiful face and earnest expression. The light within his eyes promising me a lot of great tomorrows. This whole setup, unnecessarily bringing a reporter with him to apologize and profess his love for me.

It’s so much more than that.

It’s his way of telling me that he truly is past all of his old insecurities and fears, and he is ready to start a new chapter of his life with me in it.

“Okay…you can kiss me,” I whisper.

“About fucking time,” he mutters, and then his mouth is on mine. It’s deep and claiming but not at all sexual. It’s a loving kiss and it speaks of whatever words got left behind.

Van is the first to pull away and I’m embarrassed my hands are curled clawlike into his T-shirt. He rubs his nose against mine, and then turns to Xander.

Pulling me into his side, curling his arm around me tight, he says, “Now…let’s talk about Arco. I’m going to be an open book, so you can ask me anything. And I’m going to be open about it because of the woman sitting beside me. I’ve got nothing to fear and nothing to hide because of her.”

My head tilts up and I gaze at Van with wonder. He’s looking at Xander with utter confidence, offering himself up as transparently as a person can get. He’s putting himself out there bravely and with such confidence I find myself swelling a little with pride.

“Okay,” Xander says gamely, and then throws a hard question. “Do you forgive your dad for what he did to your life?”

Much, much later.

After the interview was over—and it was a grueling two hours long—I fixed Van and me an early dinner.

And after that, we broke in—or just nearly broke—my bed having wild monkey makeup sex. Now I’m curled in Van’s arms.

“Did you really mean it?” I ask him quietly, my fingers trailing lightly over his abdomen.

“Yes, for the hundredth time, I love you, Simone,” he says in an exaggerated drawl.

I pinch him and he laughs at me. “Not that. I mean…about retiring.”

Van gets quiet and I hold perfectly still. Van said a lot of things that shocked me tonight; the biggest I thought would be his very public proclamation that he loves me.

But that wasn’t the most jaw dropping.

It was when near the end of the interview Xander asked us what our plans were. I, of course, had no answer because I’m still clueless about what I want in life other than I know for certain I want Van in it.

Van gave an easy shrug and told Xander, “I’ve reached the pinnacle of success in hockey. I think it might be time to move on.”

Xander’s jaw dropped for sure. “Retire from hockey?”

Van shrugged again. “I’m considering it. Maybe Simone and I can do some traveling or something.”

I was so stunned then I couldn’t even respond, and besides that, the interview was wrapping up. After a few more minor questions, Xander thanked us both with a hearty handshake to Van and a hug to me, and then he was gone.

“I told you I had wanted to go to college and study psychology, right?” Van asks me, jerking me out of my memories.

“Right.”

“Maybe I’ll give college a try,” he says. “Or…we could travel like I said.”

“Or,” I suggest a little aggressively, “you could play hockey still.”

Van rolls to face me, bringing his hand to my jaw. “Simone…not every player out there thinks this game is the most important thing in the world. I know that might be hard to believe, but I’ve given ten years to this league and it’s given me a lot in return. But I have other things I want to do. School, travel. I want to be with you, not on the road a third of the year.”

My eyes search him for some sign that he’s lying about this. Or maybe not thinking straight. But he just stares back at me with conviction.

“It’s just…” I trail off, not know what the fuck this all means.

“It’s just what?” he prompts me.

“It’s just…you never asked me if I loved you,” I blurt out. “How can you be so confident all of a sudden, and I haven’t even said the words to you?”

“Well, do you?” he asks.

“Yes,” I reply.

“There you have it,” he says with a grin.

“You obviously knew,” I continue, not wanting to drop this subject with just a nonchalant there you have it from Van. “You came here with a reporter, knowing I loved you and that I was not done with you.”

Van’s eyes bore into mine and his smile is languid. “Baby…I knew you loved me that night you found the shoe box. I tried to push you away a few times, and you just wouldn’t leave. You threw yourself at me one time, wrapped your arms around me so tight I thought nothing would ever feel better. And I didn’t do the same back to you, and you told me…you said, ‘You better wrap your arms around me motherfucker.’ Do you remember that?”

I nod, a smile drifting over my lips.

“The vehemence in your voice…you little bit of a thing ordering me to hold you. After you’d just found out something that was horrendously nasty about me. I knew you had to love me at that point.”

“That turned out to be a good night,” I murmur as I snuggle into him. “You made love to me that night.”

“Yeah, I did,” he mutters in agreement, although I still prefer us fucking most of the time. But that night was special.

“Van?” I whisper. “Am I still shiny?”

He chuckles, pulls me in tighter, and squeezes the breath out of me. “Yes, Simone. So fucking shiny you make everything else in the world seem a little dull by comparison.”

I smile at his words. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.