The Girl With Hearts (Midtown Brotherhood #1) (14 page)

His hand clenched at his side. “Damn it, Leila. I’m sorry for touching you this morning. I’m attracted to you. I’m pretty sure we both know that by now, and I’m not used to being a gentleman about it. I sincerely apologize. It was my mistake.”

She averted her eyes. It was all a mistake. Their night together. Their so-called friendship. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

“I need a learning curve here,” he pleaded. “Don’t push me away.”

“I have to,” she bit out, the tears already glossing her eyes as she finally turned around to face him. “You’re better off just spending your time with someone else.”

Her voice broke before she finished. She glanced away, but she knew he already caught the sight of tears. When she couldn’t hold it back anymore, she rushed out of the room, her hand covering her mouth.

She made it all the way downstairs and out the main entrance before she stopped. She ran head first into a crowd of people, backing up until she felt the hard concrete of the building at her back. Then she sank to the ground and curled her arms around her legs.

None of this could be real.

In real life, Henrik didn’t act like that. He wasn’t considerate and attentive. Henrik had sex with girls, and he flaunted it in her face. She was supposed to hate him.

She didn’t hate him. She was so far from hating him that she hated herself.

“Leila.”

She looked up, tears blurring her vision. He stood above her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. She snuffled, wiping the tears out of her eyes. He sat down next to her, sliding down the wall until their hips connected. No one spoke. They sat there, pretending to watch the people walk by, listening to the high screeching of cab horns.

When she finally found enough courage to look over at him, he kept his eyes locked on the traffic in front of them. “Just so you know I like spending my nights at home.” He finally glanced over at her and smiled. His new, sweet Henrik smile. “And it has nothing to do with you.”

She quirked a smile back. It was faint, but it was there. He was a horrible liar.

“All right, so maybe it has forty percent to do with you, but the other sixty is me.” He leaned in toward her. “I’m tired of not getting any respect because of the way I live my life. I’m trying…to figure out what makes me happy.”

“You weren’t happy before?”

“I just know I’m happier now. Plus, the trade rumors have stopped, and my coach hasn’t given me a life lecture in about a month. I want to keep it that way.”

She nodded, because she didn’t know what else to do. He wiped away the remainder of her tears with the edge of his sleeve. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for this Henrik yet. “I said we could be friends, and I meant that.”

He looked down his nose at her. “Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming after that?”

“If you want to spend your free time at home, because that’s what you want to do, that’s fine. I just don’t want you to bail out on Austin, because you think that’s what I want. If you want to go out this week while you’re on the road, then that’s what you should do.”

She had never heard herself say something so unconvincingly in her life. However, she knew she had to make sure this new Henrik 2.0 was real and he was doing these things for himself. Not because he thought it was what she wanted from him.

He pursed his lips, clearly unsatisfied.

“It’s my only stipulation,” she added, “to trying this whole friends thing out with you.”

“Is there an agreement form I need to sign?”

“No,” she said weakly, preparing herself for what she would say next. “I just don’t want to know about it. You know, you’re not depriving yourself.”

“That’s two stipulations,” he pointed out. “Are you sure we don’t need to write all these down? Get lawyers involved?”

She made a face at him. He smiled again. “There isn’t going to be anything to tell, but fine. Hook-up stories are officially off the table.”

“Okay.” She nodded as if she were trying to convince herself, and that was probably right.

He elbowed her, and when she looked up, he was still smiling. “Let’s go get nachos,” he said casually.

“Nachos?”

“Yeah, nachos are awesome. Austin has been making me eat asparagus and beets for a week. I really want some fucking cheese in my life.”

He was changing the subject. Just like Drew. Just like a friend would do.

Leila finally laughed, and the uncertainty and fear slowly started to drift away. Maybe this friendship thing could actually work with Henrik. “You realize Austin’s been sneaking over and stealing Oreos from me all week, right?”

“What?”

Damn. Even annoyed, he was cute.

Friends were allowed to be cute. Cute was safe.

“He has an entire secret stash of food in his gym bag too,” she told him, trying to keep her thoughts focused.

Henrik stood up, dusted off his pants, and held his hand out to her. “Oh, we are so eating nachos right now. And Twizzlers. Do you know how much I miss eating Twizzlers?”

Leila stood and took his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Probably as much as Austin misses his Oreos.”

“I’ll deal with Austin later,” he grumbled. “Tonight I’m eating nachos and Twizzlers with my friend.”

Leila tried so hard not to let the word
friend
make her stomach twinge.

Friends were allowed to make your stomach twinge.

Right?

Chapter 18

HENRIK’S ROAD TRIP

Wednesday night was a typical night on the road. The team flew to a random city, checked into their hotel, had a grueling practice, and then went out for dinner. It was typical, except for all the important things.

Henrik had a new fancy face shield on his helmet.

It was ugly and large. It looked like something Buzz Lightyear would wear. He absolutely hated it, but was told it was non-negotiable at least three times by the medical staff.

He also persuaded Austin to switch up their usual roommate arrangements in the spirit of team unity. So, he decided to bunk with Sam. The team dinner consisted of just that, the team only, and no teammate was excluded. He was finished with the one-track mind stigma everyone was determined to throw in his face. He could be a good captain, a better friend, and more importantly, a man deserving of a woman like Leila, even if that meant their relationship was purely platonic. He was confident that with a little self-awareness he could accomplish that much.

Fully clothed Scrabble could work.

“Okay, I’ve just got one question, and it’s probably going to offend you.”

Henrik rose up from his spot on the bed where he crashed as soon as he entered the room five minutes earlier. He turned to look at Sam, who stood stoically in the middle of the room, still wearing his suit from dinner.

“That’s never stopped you before,” he reminded him.

“Are you rooming with me so you can talk to Austin’s sister without him knowing?”

He rolled his eyes and lay back down on the bed. “Yes, Sam. You are merely a pawn in my grand scheme to get my ass kicked.”

“You’re such an ass.”

He took the pillow behind his head and chucked it at Sam’s grinning face. “Then don’t ask stupid questions. I’m rooming with you because for some ridiculous reason I actually enjoy your presence.”

Sam caught the pillow, and waited for him to actually answer his question.

He groaned. “If I wanted to call Leila, I’d call her. I don’t need a permission letter from Austin.”

Sam walked over and sat on the corner of the bed. “So, are you? You know, going to call her tonight?”

Henrik grinned back at him, glancing at the door that connected their room with Austin and Callen’s next door. “Yeah, as soon as Austin goes to bed.”

Sam laughed, finally taking off his suit jacket. “So, how is the friendship thing working out for you?”

He shot him a knowing look.

“That well, huh?”

“It’s not like I go over to Drew’s thinking today is the day I’m going to make a move on her. I get near her, and shit just happens. I can’t help myself. It’s like embedded in my genetic code or something. I see her, and all my mind can think is ‘touch her, smell her, move just a little closer.’”

“Smell her?” Sam inquired, trying not to laugh.

“She’s like lilac scented heaven, asshole. Get off my back.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said and chuckled.

“I accidentally made a move on her the other day,” he admitted, and for the first time he actually felt horrible about it. “I didn’t mean to, and hell, I didn’t even realize I was doing it at the time.”

“I’m going to assume by the sour look on your face that it didn’t go over well.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh as he recalled the incident. “She shut me down. Hard.”

Sam tried not to laugh, but failed. Henrik threw his other pillow at him. “Sorry,” Sam apologized. “But at least now you know how the other half of the world lives.”

“She actually told me to go out tonight,” he confessed.

“Go out?” Sam asked, surprised. “As in ‘find a woman and bring her back to your room’?”

“Yep.”

“Are you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“Just checking.” Sam arranged the pillows beneath his head, and sank back against them. “It sounds like she is just confused about what she wants.”

“She isn’t confused,” he explained. “I think she knows what she wants, it’s just—”

“What?”

“I think she’s scared that I’m like Derek. That if she lets her guard down, I will inevitably hurt her.”

It was the first time he had ever said the thought out loud, though it had been nagging at him for weeks. Leila had no reason to trust his word, and after her experience with Derek, airing on the side of caution would be expected. Except he didn’t want to be placed in the same category as Derek. Sure, he’d done his share of scumbag things, but he’d never been in a committed relationship at the time.

Relationship.

It seemed like his every thought and action kept leading him back to that one original idea, and the more he considered it, the more unattainable and illogical it felt.

He wasn’t allowed to have that kind relationship with Leila. Austin and Drew barely conceded friendship.

“I may be a rookie, but I’m pretty sure the entire universe knows Derek Deroty is a certified douche bag.”

Henrik smiled sadly at his new friend. “Well, I hate to break the bad news to you, Sam. But up until about two months ago, so was I.”

“Henrik, there is a big difference between being a little,” Sam paused, probably trying to decide the best way to insult him, “self-involved, and being an uncaring, inconsiderate bastard.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Either way, she is determined to keep me at arm’s length.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, are you going to ultimately be satisfied with just being friends with her?”

He covered his face with his hands. “What are you doing to me, Sam?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are,” he growled, running his hands through his hair as if he might pull it out. “You’re making me confront my feelings.”

“Feelings? I thought that we weren’t allowed to reference such blasphemy?”

He glared at the rookie, but Sam was too busy enjoying himself. “You can go ahead and tell me I was right if you want. I really don’t mind.”

He clenched his teeth. “I like her, all right? I admit it.”

Sam shook his head disapprovingly. “Come on, I see the way you look at her. You more than like that girl. You admitted, when you get around her, you can’t control yourself.”

“I officially hate you,” he growled. “We’re not friends anymore.”

Sam laughed. “Fine. You don’t have to convince me, but you should call her.”

He immediately shook his head. “It’s too soon.”

“Take some advice from me,” Sam insisted. “It’s never too soon to be honest.”

He thought about it, and for the first time in his life, he was scared. That was when he realized there would be no going back for him. Unknowingly, he’d let Leila under his skin, and he’d have to face the ultimate consequence if he failed. He wasn’t sure what a broken heart felt like, but a frightened one was close enough to make him know he never wanted to find out.

Sam dropped Henrik’s cell phone in his lap. “Call her,” he assured him. “I’ve got a call I need make myself, and I can do it from the comfort of the hotel lobby as easy as I can here. Call her tonight, tomorrow night, and every other night after that. If you’re serious about her, then you’re going to have to prove it to her, and unfortunately for you, that takes time.”

Henrik leaned his head back on the bed, running a tired hand down his face. “Unfortunately for me,” he mumbled.

Sam laughed as he threw the pillows back at his unsuspecting face.

***

He didn’t call Leila. He was a chicken. A big, fat, clucking chicken. And Sam reminded him of that fact every chance he got. The next night at dinner, when the waiter asked for his order, Sam interjected, “Chicken.”

When the coach asked what game they’d like to play during warm-ups, Sam called out, “Chicken!”

Every time Austin mentioned his sister, or Sam saw him with his phone in his mere vicinity, he’d start clucking and flapping his wings.

The little smartass was earning himself a car full of packing peanuts when they got back to New York, but Sam was right. He needed to talk to her. The team had the night off before their game against Montreal the next day, and he knew it was the perfect opportunity. He grabbed his cell phone, and then whacked a sleeping Sam over the head with a pillow. “Get out.”

Barely conscious, Sam sat up. “What?”

“Get. Out.”

Sam looked around, and then spotted the cell phone in his hand. He grinned. “Well, look who found his balls.”

Henrik whacked him over the head again. A little harder this time.

“Okay. Okay.” Sam jumped up, laughing. “I’m going. Geez.”

Henrik waited while he gathered his stuff, and went to camp out in Jiri’s room. Austin’s room was off limits. He didn’t want to raise any red flags.

He paced from the window to the door, reciting what he would say in his head, but it was nothing more than gibberish. He’d never told a girl he had feelings for her before…and meant it. He ran through his contact list and found her name. Then he just stood there and looked at it. Then he looked at it some more.

He was shocked he didn’t sprout feathers.

He clicked on her name without thinking about it, and held his breath as he listened to it ring. He almost lost hope after the fifth ring, but then she finally answered.

“Hello? Henrik? Is something wrong?” Her voice was groggy and full of panic. He glanced over at the clock, noticing it was after eleven and she had probably already been asleep.

“No,” he told her quickly. “Nothing is wrong.”

“Oh,” she breathed, sounding relieved.

“I thought—maybe—I would tell you goodnight.”

“Oh,” she repeated, her concern turning to surprise.

He gauged her reaction for a moment, coming to the only logical conclusion. “Derek never called you on road trips, did he?”

“No,” she replied honestly, her voice barely a whisper. “Never.”

His free hand balled into a fist. “Well, I guess that’s something you’re just going to have to get used to, then,” he replied, holding back the curses about her ex.

She was quiet, and that worried him. “Leila?”

“You didn’t go out tonight,” she commented, more to herself than to him.

Tonight was their only night off during their road trip, and she knew it. “Not going to lie. The shock in your voice is a little hurtful.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay.”
Keep calm. Be honest
. “I understand that with my reputation and track record, I don’t automatically get the benefit of the doubt.”

“It’s not that.” Her voice was weak, burdened. “I shouldn’t care. That’s what I was trying to tell you the other day. We’re friends, and that’s great. I shouldn’t care whether or not you go out, and you should go out and not care what I think.”

“Is there some kind of friendship rule book I don’t know about? Because that sounds like total bullshit to me.”

“Henrik.”

“Well, it is,” he rushed, “because I promise you, Leila, I’d care. If you bring some guy over and parade him around in front of me, I will make a complete ass out of myself. Guaranteed.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Now he laughed. “No. What’s ridiculous is how bad it bothers me that you sleep half naked in my brother’s bed every night.”

“It’s just Drew.”

“I fail to see your point,” he droned. “Is he there now?”

He shoved his ear harder against the phone, waiting for Drew’s maniacal laugh.

“No, he’s still out, but it doesn’t matter, because friends don’t think that way. If we’re going to try and make this work—”

“Maybe we’re not friends,” he cut in before he could stop himself.

He paced the room again, his hands in his hair. He would be bald before the end.

“What?” Her voice was hurt, and he knew he had to act quickly.

“Maybe,” he started, his mind racing to figure out a way to explain himself, “we should be friends who would eventually like the option of possibly being something different in the future, which means different rules apply to us.”

There was a long pause. “Are you high? Did the doctor give you some kind of new pain medication for your nose?”

“I’m being serious.”

“You obviously don’t have any idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Yes,” he gulped. “I do.”

Could he do it? Say he had legitimate feelings for her, and he wasn’t going to sleep with anyone else? He’d already said it. Actually, he was already doing that. Now he just wanted his grand gesture returned.

She’d gone quiet again. The buzz on the other end of the phone was prominent as he waited for her to finally answer. She’d have to answer eventually.