Chapter Four

"For someone of your advanced age and maturity, you sure are stupid."

Aaron narrowed his eyes but otherwise ignored Zach. Let his teammate think the grunt was some kind of response—it wasn't. The grunt was from the strain he felt at lifting the weights.

Mostly.

"Yeah. You should have gone after her at least."

"Really, Emory?" Disbelief and disgust mingled in Zach's voice. "The whole damn thing was your fucking fault."

"What are you talking about? How is any of what happened my fault?"

"Because you're an ass. You walk in on someone getting hot and heavy, you don't laugh and say 'Way to go, Pops'. You back out nice and quietly and pretend you didn't see a thing."

"Hey, I was surprised, that's all. Seeing Pops making out like a horny teenager caught me off-guard. It wasn't like I interrupted on purpose."

"Christ. You are beyond hope. Anyone ever tell you that? Megan must be a saint or something to put up with your shit."

The sound of weights crashing against a rack echoed around them. Jason heaved a sigh, wiped his brow with the back of his arm, then jammed his fists on his hips. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Let it go." Zach replaced his own weights then straddled the bench, a towel draped around his neck. Aaron forced himself to ignore the stares of both men, forced himself to concentrate on each rep. Inhale. Curl up. Exhale. Curl down. Again. Over and over until muscles burned and cramped, then one more time with a deep grunt as he pushed through the final rep.

He lowered the weights to the floor then reached for the water bottle, drinking deeply. He capped it, tossed it to the side, then moved toward the chest press machine.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Aaron glanced at Zach, shaking his head as he adjusted the weight. "Nothing to say."

"Did you at least go talk to her?"

"Did you see me go talk to her?"

"I don't mean during the party. I mean later that night. Or the next day. Or fuck, any day in the past five days since it happened."

Since it happened.

Guilt swept through him again. What the hell had he done? Manhandling Savannah that way, pushing her up against the counter like he had. What the fuck had he been thinking?

He hadn't been thinking, that was the problem. He still wasn't sure why he'd kissed her. She was only being nice, trying to reassure him, offer him comfort in that gentle way she had. But he had looked down and seen her hand on his arm, looked into those clear hazel eyes and thought he saw the same desire he'd been feeling.

He'd obviously misread the entire situation. Yeah, he'd seen desire alright—but it hadn't been hers. It had been nothing more than a reflection of his own. And the way she had pushed him away then run out, like she was mortified over what he'd done and couldn't get away fast enough.

Fuck. Just what he needed on top of everything else going on right now. Savannah had been his one beacon of peace and sanity in the last four months—more than he had realized—and now he didn't even have that.

All because he'd misread things and acted on impulse. He was worse than some of his teammates.

No, he was worse than all of them, because he was old enough to know better.

"Well? Have you?"

He glanced over, saw Zach and Jason watching him. And it wasn't just those two. Ben and Travis had joined them as well, and he could see a few of the other guys throwing curious glances his way.

Everyone except Tyler, who stayed to himself working on his samurai goalie skills. Aaron tried to tell himself it was because Tyler wasn't interested in the gossip, or the fact that the old man had completely embarrassed himself, but he knew better. The reason Tyler was off by himself was the same reason he and Jenny hadn't come to the cookout: because Tyler and Jason still weren't speaking and hadn't been since he ran off with Jason's sister.

Yeah. Wasn't that going to make for a fun season?

Aaron straddled the bench and wrapped his hands around the padded handles of the machine. He closed his eyes, inhaled, and extended his arms.

Only nothing happened.

He dropped his arms and glanced over his shoulder, the muscle in his jaw working when he saw Zach leaning against the weights. "Do you mind?"

"Yeah, actually, I do." Zach straightened and moved closer. "Have you at least talked to her?"

"And tell her what? Sorry for manhandling her? Christ, Mummert—"

"Why do you even think that?"

"Think what? That I was manhandling her?"

"Yeah. From what I hear, it was a kiss—one she was participating in."

"You weren't there."

"No, but I was." Jason grinned and tapped Aaron on the shoulder with his fist. "And she was definitely participating. She damn near had your shirt up around your hairy armpits."

"Fuck, Emory. Do you ever shut up? You need to shut up because you're not helping. Now go away. I mean it." Zach pushed him to the side then waved his hands in a brushing motion at everyone else. "That goes for all of you. Especially you, Banky. You're too innocent for this conversation, even if you are turning into a man-whore."

A blush exploded on Travis Bankard's face. Even the tips of his ears turned beet-red. He stammered for a minute then narrowed his eyes at Zach. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? Man-whore? Go look it up in the dictionary. Or better yet, ask Ben."

"I know what it means, you ass. I just don't know why you're calling me that."

"Because that's what you've turned into. Do yourself a favor and stay off social media."

"But you—"

"That was before I got smart. Now go away. All of you."

"But—"

"Come on, Banky. Let's leave the kids alone before Zach has a coronary. You too, Jason." Ben Leach tugged on their arms, leading both men away, muttering under his breath about hen-pecked boys.

Aaron felt Zach stiffen and reached out to grab him, pulling him back before he could go after Ben. "Let it go. And stop giving Travis a hard time. You're not making things easier for him."

"Easier? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said. He's beating himself up for getting involved with those women last season." Aaron pinned Zach in place with a narrowed gaze. "Which he wouldn't have done if you hadn't egged him on."

"Yeah, well. I didn't think he'd take me seriously."

"He's still young and naïve and on the rebound."

"Young? He's almost twenty-two. Definitely old enough to know better."

"When you get to be my age, that's young."

Zach leaned against the machine and folded his arms across his broad chest, leveling an unreadable gaze at Aaron. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Keep calling yourself old. You're not, you know. Thirty-four is still prime."

"Not in our line of work, it isn't. I've been playing pro or semi-pro hockey for half my life. Trust me, I'm old."

"Bullshit."

"You just wait—"

"Yeah, whatever. We can save that conversation for another day. I want to know why you haven't gone to talk to your neighbor at all."

Aaron turned away from Zach, hoping the man would get the message. He didn't. Instead of walking away, he simply moved in front of Aaron.

"Well? Why haven't you?"

"And say what? Sorry for forcing myself on you? Fuck. Shit like that—no, there's nothing I can say to her that would make it better."

"Why are you so fucking convinced you forced yourself on her?"

"I don't know. Maybe because she pushed me away and ran off?"

"When did she push you away?"

"After Jason came in and caught us."

"Okay, number one, he didn't 'catch you'. That implies you were sneaking around like some horny fucking teenager. And number two, did you maybe stop to think she was embarrassed? I mean, fuck. This is Jason we're talking about. You know how he is. He could embarrass the devil himself just by opening his stupid fucking mouth and saying the wrong thing."

Aaron shook his head. He wanted to believe Zach, wanted to believe that he hadn't acted like a total ass and did something wrong…but he couldn't quite convince himself of that. "You didn't see the look on her face—"

"No, but I saw yours."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Zach ran a hand through his hair and down his face, his breath leaving him in a rush. He glanced around then stepped closer, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "Remember when that bastard hurt Haley? How fucked up I was? Pissed and angry but beyond that, scared shitless. I was so fucking scared I was a fucking basket case."

Aaron closed his eyes, the memory of that night almost six months ago coming back to him. Haley's ex-boyfriend had broken into her apartment and attacked her, leaving her cut and bloody until Zach found her an hour later. The police had actually arrested Zach, thinking he'd been the one to hurt her. Aaron had picked him up when he was released from jail a few hours later, all charges dropped when the police realized he'd had nothing to do with it.

Zach had been a shell of himself, pale and empty and so shaken that he'd been violently ill. Aaron had taken him to his condo and forced him into the shower so he could wash Haley's blood from his skin before taking him to the hospital. It had been a living nightmare for all of them, but especially for Zach.

One he wouldn't be able to forget for a long time.

Aaron blew out a deep breath. "Yeah, I remember."

"You had a similar look on your face."

"That is such—"

"You did. Not scared shitless, not like that. But you had this panicked look in your eyes, like you'd just lost something you never realized you had."

"That is the most fucking asinine thing I have ever heard you say. Zach, she's my neighbor. We're friends. Acquaintances. That's it. We don't even socialize much. Nothing beyond saying hi or chatting or hanging out a little if we're both outside."

Zach's brows shot up in disbelief. "Really? Then what the fuck are you doing kissing her if she's nothing more than an acquaintance?"

"I—" Aaron's mouth snapped shut, his mind searching for an explanation. There had to be one…he just couldn't find it.

"Yeah. Uh-huh. That's what I thought. If it had been any one of these other guys around here, it'd be no big deal. But that's not how you roll and we both know it."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Listen, all I'm saying is go talk to her. Apologize if you think you need to. Then ask the woman out."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why? Because she might say no?"

Maybe. And because he was afraid she'd slam the door in his face. But damned if he'd admit that to Zach. "In case you're forgetting, I have two daughters I need to worry about. And right now, they're about all I can handle."

"You're a big boy. Learn to multi-task. They're in school now, right?"

"Yeah, they started yesterday."

"And you said your neighbor worked from home, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then ask her out to lunch. Lunch dates are innocent enough. Piece of cake." Zach swatted Aaron on the leg with his towel then sauntered away, whistling under his breath.

Aaron almost laughed at the irony of the entire situation. Zach Mummert, one of the team's biggest players, giving him dating advice.

Except Zach wasn't a player anymore, and hadn't been for a while. And he was totally committed to Haley.

So maybe some of what Zach said had merit.

Maybe.

Except it all hinged on Aaron working up the nerve to go see Savannah. To apologize. And that meant taking a chance on having her slam the door in his face.

He wasn't sure if he could handle that.