Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) (8 page)

She arched an eyebrow at my raised voice. “You think I’ll leave. You think if we act on whatever this is between us that I’ll leave and it will destroy Lettie, right?”

I peeled the label on my water bottle. “Maybe. What about it?”

“I’m not Helen!”

I winced. “You’re not. But shit happens, Bailey. We’ve been friends for what? Twenty years? Relationships fail. People walk out. My mom left my dad, Helen left me. People leave.”

“It is so damn unfair to loop me into that assumption.”

“You left once upon a time,” I countered.

“For college!”

I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the island. If she wanted to go rounds, I’d go. “And how long before you walk out? Fuck, Bailey. You’re going to leave, it’s just a matter of time.”

Man, if looks could have killed, I would have been in a chalk outline.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re not going to get an argument from me. Look, what we have here, this incredible chemistry...it’ll fade. Yes, I want to fuck you. I want nothing more than to lift you onto this counter, slide your pants off and bury myself in you so deep that you can taste me. Hell, I’d love to do it while you’re wearing my name on your back, so go ahead and leave the jersey on.”

She winced, and I hated myself for the words, but they had to be said.

“Is that all I’d be for you? Another puck bunny to warm up your bed? Another nameless fuck? God, Gage, you’ve been one of my best friends since I can remember, and that’s what this comes down to?”

I ripped my hand over my hair. “No. God damn it. I just mean that we’d eventually fuck each other out of our systems, and then what? Would you still stay here for Lettie? Eventually you. Will. Leave.”

“You don’t know that it would go badly!”

“But I do! Bailey, don’t you want a family? Kids of your own? An art gallery?”

She blinked. “Well, yeah. You’re saying those things could never happen if we were together? If we took a chance on this?”

“No more kids.”

Her head snapped like I’d slapped her. “What? You’re a phenomenal father, Gage.”

“Yeah, to one kid. I love Lettie more than life. She’s got my whole heart—whatever’s left of it. But I know that I’ll never trust a relationship enough to have another kid. It’s not fair to them when shit goes south.” I’d sliced myself open with that realization a long time ago.

She shook her head. “Yeah, you’re over Helen, alright.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You are letting her taint your whole life! You won’t take a chance on me because I might leave and hurt you—hurt Lettie. You won’t take a chance with anyone for the same damn reason. You’ve given her all the power, and she doesn’t deserve it!”

“I’m protecting my daughter.”

“You’re protecting yourself!” She pointed a finger at me. “You know what? You don’t want to try with me? Fine.”

“That’s not what I said.” I came around the island and stalked her until I had her caged between my arms. She met me with fiery eyes and a tilted chin. Such a little warrior, my Bailey was. “I want you. I crave you. I wake up from dreams where I’m inside you, where I hear you scream my name, and then I have to take a cold shower so I don’t come down here and act those fantasies out. Every drink I sip tastes like your kiss, every time I breathe in the scent of your perfume I’m reminded of how you smell when you’re pressed up against me. My hands ache to feel your curves, and I swear to God that I only breathe when you’re in the damn room. I want to try with you more than anything, Bailey. But Lettie comes first. I don’t get to
want
anything. I gave that up the day she was born.”

“So that’s it? You’re just what? Going to have a string of one-night stands for the rest of your life?”

“Better than letting anyone hurt Lettie.”

She blinked back moisture in her eyes. Fuck, I was going to lose it if I made her cry.

Instead, she took her fingers and pushed at the center of my chest. “Move.”

I moved back because she wanted me to, not because she made me. She couldn't move me if she actually tried. “Bailey.”

She stalked out of the kitchen.

“Bailey!” I called after her.

She turned, the look on her face a mixture of sadness and disgust. “You’re right. I do want a family and a life of my own. I eventually want a husband who looks at me and sees his future, and I want to be a mother. I’m not saying that has to be right now. Maybe you have it right. Maybe one night stands are where it’s at. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get ready.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out with Jeannine. I think I need a drink or twelve after the way today has gone.”

My hands gripped the counter behind me to keep from going after her. “You deserve a night out.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I do. I deserve a lot of things, like a man who’s willing to risk his heart for what we could have together.”

“It’s not—”

“Keep telling yourself that bullshit, Gage. It’s not about Lettie, it’s about
you.
She already loves me, and I already love her. So just remember that while you’re holding yourself back from a real relationship, you’re also holding her back in the name of protecting her.”

My shoulders slumped. Fuck. I’d never thought of it that way. “I love her enough for both parents.”

“Yeah, you do. You’re the best dad I’ve ever known. You teach her everything about life, and hockey, and music, and art, and you never let her wonder for a second if she’s loved. But Gage, I think there’s enough room in your heart for m—” she shook her head and chewed on her lower lip.

Me. She was going to say, “me.”
I swallowed, my tongue suddenly thick.

“Bailey…”

“I just can’t with you right now,” she said and left me standing alone in the kitchen.

Alone. What I liked to be. Where I was safe. Where Lettie was safe. Where nothing changed, and no one got hurt.

Safe was best.

Except Bailey.

There was nothing better than Bailey.

And I fucking knew it.

I
need to go out
.
I sent the text as I slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans and a gray, silk spaghetti strap.

Dinner, drinks, or dancing?
Jeannine responded instantly.

Huge fight with Gage.

Dancing. Meet me at Phantom in ten?

OMW.

I loved Jeannine, as always, she was more than happy to oblige my need to blow off steam. I only took one night off a week, and tonight I needed it in a big bad way. Adrenaline from Gage’s words still pumped through my veins as I walked out the door, and he was nowhere in sight. The thought of him going out with the boys, only to find a puck bunny to take out his frustration on made my stomach sour. I drove ten over the speed limit to get to Jeannine faster.

Phantom
was currently the hottest nightclub in Seattle. The place was impressively large, the entire main floor predominately a dance space, and the upper levels offered balcony views and exclusivity to VIPs. Jeannine and I bypassed those and headed straight for the massive bar which set just off the dance floor. Dark lighting, loud music, and fantastic drinks—it was exactly what I needed—and exactly the place Paige constantly avoided. I wished she were here too, but understood she couldn’t risk the paparazzi catching her indulging at a place like this, not with the wholesome image she had to maintain for her company.

Either way, after the past couple weeks I’d had, I couldn’t wait to get to drinking. Gage was giving me whiplash and my emotions were just as bad, jumping from wanting to board-check him myself to wanting to simply tie him to his bed and make him watch while I took control over his glorious body. I swallowed hard, the image sending a flush over my skin.

The club was packed, but not so much we couldn’t get our hands on two healthy portions of top-shelf liquor. A few sips and I was ready to rock, tugging Jeannine into the masses of writhing bodies on the floor.

A sick DJ booth took up half of the farthest wall from the entrance and she cranked out hip-shaking tunes, appeasing the throngs of people dying for a release. I swayed back and forth to the beat, the bottom of my top fanning out around me as Jeannine spun me in a dramatic move. I returned the gesture and we lost ourselves to the music, our moves, and the drinks. By the time we came up for air, sweat popped from my brow and I held my long hair off my neck to fan it.

“We haven’t done this in ages!” Jeannine shouted over the thumping of bass. “I’m out of shape!” She pretended to pant, fanning her face as we took a seat at the bar.

“Please.” I rolled my eyes after ordering another drink. She was fit and had more stamina than both Paige and myself combined. She’d always been able to outlast us at any event we’d ever attended together. I don’t know how she managed it. Usually, after a couple hours, I was dying for my yoga pants, an oversized T, and my bed.

The thought of my bed made me wonder again what Gage had chosen to do tonight with the house completely empty. A flare of jealousy sizzled in my gut when I thought about him bringing another woman home and I took a quick swallow of my vodka cranberry to cool it.

He wouldn’t do that, would he?

The look in his eyes right before he’d kissed me in the laundry room told me I was different than the girls he’d brought home night after night. And I had to be, right? We were friends, for God’s sake. I took care of his baby girl, loved her, and if he ever was honest with himself, he’d realize I’d been taking care of him too—making sure he was eating right, stayed on him about keeping pace with his rehabilitation exercises even though his shoulder was solid again.

Jealousy turned to anger in a blink, the realization that he kept himself closed off to me for more than professional reasons made me want to smash my empty glass on the floor. How could he group me in with the likes of Helen? With the women who couldn’t be trusted, who jumped from player to player as their news coverage grew. It was infuriating, especially when I knew without a doubt he felt something for me too. I knew it as easily as I knew when Lettie would have a meltdown.

“Want to tell me what you’re chewing on?” Jeannine asked, clinking her scotch against my glass.

I sighed. “I’m sure you can guess.”

“Still has his head up his ass?”

“Firmly.” I took another drink.

“He better extract it pretty quick. You’re a hot commodity and won’t wait around for him forever.” She eyed down the bar and I flipped my head around to see what she waggled her eyebrows at.

The man was blond, big, and gorgeous. He had a tight black t-shirt which strained against his muscles, and he flashed me a genuine smile. I grinned back before returning my attention to Jeannine.

“Ehh?” She nudged my shoulder.

I shrugged. Sure, he looked good, but he was no Gage McPherson. And I didn’t even have a hint of desire flicker inside me when I’d checked him out.

Jeannine’s shoulders dropped. “Seriously? Look at that specimen. He’s got
generous between the sheets
written all over him.”

I chuckled, what was wrong with me? Gage hadn’t claimed me as his own, and God knows I’d seen him with every type of woman under the sun—or more accurately, the rink ceiling. Why couldn’t
I
try with someone else?

The idea fizzled out as quickly as it had bloomed. “Maybe he broke me.”

“Well, we’re about to find out for certain,” Jeannine said. “Incoming.”

I barely had a second to turn around before the blond man stood behind me, so close I could smell his overpowering aftershave. It singed my nose worse than the vodka I currently drank.

“Hey there,” he said and I giggled. Not that he’d said something funny, but it was the way he’d said it, like something out of a cheesy chick-flick—all deep toned and throaty.

“Hello yourself.” I rose my glass toward the bartender, motioning for another one.

“Put that on my tab,” he said when the woman came back with my drink.

“No, that’s all right.” I shook my head. “Keep it on mine please.” I looked at the man, who had a surprisingly nice shade of brown eyes. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m good.”

Jeannine scoffed next to me but tried to hide it behind her scotch. I glared at her.

“No worries. I’m Chad.” He held his hand out to shake.

I took it. “Bailey.”

“Beautiful name,” he said, leaning even closer to me if that was possible. I could feel the heat from his body brushing up against my crossed legs, and I pushed my back against the bar a little harder.

Personal bubble much?

“This is my friend Jeannine,” I said. “We’re having a girl’s night.” I was flattered that he wanted to buy me a drink, I just wasn’t interested in what he had to offer. It wasn’t his fault, it was Gage’s. He
had
ruined me, it seemed, to even appreciating another decent looking man’s attention.

Jeannine wrapped her arm around me and winked at him. “Sorry, honey. She’s all mine tonight.”

He nodded, but didn’t move, and the near non-existent space was making it hard to breathe.

“Well, I’ve come here every weekend for the past two months, and you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He reached over me to set his beer down on the bar, the motion forcing his chest to graze mine, and I jolted on the barstool. “You should break the girl’s night rules and dance with me.” He looked down at me, his chin practically touching my forehead.

Every muscle in my body tensed as I held myself back from physically pushing him away.

Jeannine stood up then, her hand in mine, readying to drag me to the dancefloor or the bathroom or anywhere but here.

Someone beat her to it. One second the stench of too many beers clogged my airways, and the next second Chad was jerked firmly backward.

The breath of relief I took from regaining my personal space was extremely short lived.

Gage’s blue eyes were slits as he towered over Chad. “Find someone else to bother,” he said, his voice bordering on a growl.

Chad raised his hands in defense, looking from me to Gage. “She didn’t say she was taken, man. Relax.”

A muscle in Gage’s jaw ticked. The same muscle that always ticked right before he lost his shit. The same look Letti made when she couldn’t put a puzzle together properly, or when she absolutely didn’t want to go to bed.

“She would have.” Gage shot me a glare over his shoulder. “If you’d given her a breath of space. Now, go.” There was no room for debate, Gage’s tone was an order only an idiot would refuse.

And it looked like Chad really wanted to be an idiot.

He straightened his shoulders, not budging. “You’ve got an attitude problem, man. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“He’s a Shark,” Jeannine said, the giggle in her voice shocking me. Could she not tell a fight worthy of the ice was about to break out? Oh wait, of course she could. And it
excited
her. I shook my head. The only thing keeping the anger at Gage making a claim on me that he had no right to, was the fear for this poor guy who had no idea who he was messing with.

“No shit?” Chad had the audacity to look impressed.

Warren and Rory came down the stairs from the VIP level, flanking Gage’s right and left. The trio together, all clad in suit shirts with the sleeves rolled up, leaving nothing to the imagination about their ripped muscles beneath, were something to freaking marvel at. Even Jeannine noticed it. She shifted her weight next to me as she openly ogled Warren. I sympathized with her, my mouth watering, my body unable to deny how badly it wanted Gage—despite also wanting to punch him for being so stubborn.

“Why are you still here?” Gage asked, his hands in fists. Having his boys at his side only amped the tension up to the nth degree, and I’d seen it escalate too many times before. I glanced around, searching for the paparazzi who would have his finger on his camera, ready to snap away a new meal ticket. The Shark’s bad boys were a feeding frenzy for the paper’s gossip section.

I didn’t want that. And after the incident in the player’s lot earlier, I damn well knew Gage didn’t either.

I took the few steps separating us and intertwined our fingers. The contact sent a surge of electric heat up my arm and straight into my core. He broke his stare with Chad, finally letting me see those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

“Dance with me,” I said. His muscles were locked and I reached up with my free hand, smoothing it over his chest. “I’m not asking.”

He licked his lips, the tension releasing as he turned toward the dance floor, giving Rory and Warren a nod as we went. I heard Jeannine whistle behind us.

The music thumped in a slow, sultry beat and I moved in synch with it once Gage had picked a clear spot on the floor. I rolled my hips, throwing an arm around his neck, but keeping enough distance so our bodies didn’t touch.

“So you’ll claim me the minute someone else is interested but if we’re at home—”

Gage’s lips cut off my words and I instantly forgot whatever I’d been saying. Hot
damn
this man’s tongue. It parted my lips and trailed the edges of my teeth. He tugged gently on my hair, angling my head so he could kiss me deeper, each flick of his tongue fueling the pulsing heat between my thighs. His free hand clutched the small of my back and he brought our bodies flush, all my soft curves hitting the delicious hard edges of him.

I gasped, kissing him back, harder than I had before, pouring all my anger, doubt, and
need
into it. Pulling back, he held my gaze, and slipped his hand down my neck, along the skin of my arm, until he settled on my hips. He pressed his forehead to mine, closing his eyes as he moved us to the beat of the music.

My brain told me to push back, to make him open up, force him to trust me, trust
us
, but my body…oh my body just wanted him to keep touching me. He may have said we’d get each other out of our systems if we crossed that line, but I knew that wasn’t true. Gage made my skin hum and my heart race. And that was just watching him on the ice. When his hands were on me? I was practically on fire, and the need to be consumed by his intensity wasn’t something that could simply fade.

“Bailey.” He sighed into my ear, his cheek pressed against mine as he arched me backward, bringing me back up against him slowly. I trembled, the heat from his voice and his body soaked through my flimsy gray tank-top and it penetrated straight into my center. If he made me ache this badly with just a dance, I couldn’t imagine how it would be with him on top of me, between my thighs. Actually…yes, yes I could imagine, and I wanted it. Wanted him sliding the silk off my body, leaving me bared to him. Wanted his strong, hard body against mine, his mouth everywhere he could reach.

I didn’t just want, I craved him.

“Gage.” I caught his eye then, the flames matching the lust level pumping through my blood. My heart soared with the sight, with the knowledge he wanted me as badly as he did, but the doubt quickly crept back in. I slipped my hand down to his, tracing my fingers over his knuckles. “You were seconds away from pummeling that guy as if he’d checked you on the ice.”

His hands flexed underneath my touch, and he pulled me closer to him, swaying us to the music. “He was crowding you. I could see it on your face. You didn’t like it.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “You think you can read me that well?”

“I know I can.”

“You think that happens with everyone?” I challenged him, wanting him to see how perfect we could be if he’d just let me in.

He gave the slightest shake of his head.

“So what is it, Gage?” I asked, spinning in his embrace until my back pressed against his chest. I reached up and grabbed his neck, looking up at him from behind. “You want me? Or you just don’t want anyone else to have me?” I shamelessly swished my ass against him, shocked at how hard he already was.

“Is there a difference?” He growled in my ear, lightly nipping at my lobe.

Warm chills danced across my skin and I spun again, rolling my hips against him as he held me with strong hands at my lower back. “There’s a huge difference.”

I held his eyes, needing him to say it, needing him to realize it himself.