In Your Wildest Dreams: Chapter 32
I pull the front door open, and I swear my heart lurches in my chest at the sight of Bridget. “Finally, woman.”
She squeals when I scoop her up and kiss her hard.
I fumble with the door, closing it with a foot, and then carry her into the living room where I dump her onto her back on the couch and then hover over her.
“I’ve been home for five minutes. Five looong minutes all alone.”
Her smile is soft. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know how you can make it up to me.” I waggle my brows.
Her arms drape around my neck and she pulls me down to her. Thirty-six hours and I was ready to fly the plane home myself to get to her.
“I told you I have to study tonight.”
“I know. I know.” I nuzzle into her neck and hug her, breathing her in. I am totally gone for this girl. “I can be really quick though.”
She giggles. “That isn’t usually something guys brag about.”
I kiss her until we’re both panting and I’m real close to getting off without even being inside her. I pull back with a groan. “How long do you need to study?”
“An hour or two.”
I want to be good for her. I really don’t want to be the reason she fails a class. My schedule is nuts and I know she can’t drop everything when I’m available.
I sit back and pull her upright. “All right, but I’m setting a timer. In two hours and one minute, you’re mine.”
While she gets settled in my favorite spot on the couch with her textbooks and laptop, I find a new favorite spot—sitting on the opposite end staring at her.
I watch a little TV then decide to play video games, but I’m struggling to focus. I’m antsy.
She looks up and meets my gaze. A shy smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. “What?”
“Nothing.” I pick up the video game controller again. “Do you have plans on the third next month?”
“I have no idea.”
“There’s this event at the arena. The Wildcat Foundation is hosting it and I need to stop by for a bit. I’ll be in a tux. You could pull out that old prom dress and come with me.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
I groan. “Fucking Gabe.”
“I could come over after.”
“Yeah, of course. I’d love that.”
She smiles and then goes back to studying. I try to focus on video games but fail.
“You graduate in May, yeah?”
“Yep.” She focuses on the computer screen. “Three more months and then I’m done.”
“Do you already have a job lined up at the hospital?”
“Not yet. I’ll try to get moved to pediatrics when a spot opens up, but it could be a while.”
“But you’re definitely staying here after college?”
“That’s the plan.”
Relief floods me. Thank fuck for that.
She finally meets my gaze again. “What about you? Is this where you’ll stay after hockey is over?”
“Absolutely. I’ve lived a few places, but this one is by far my favorite. The city, the lakes, my teammates and friends…you sitting on my couch. I can’t imagine it getting any better than this.”
Her smile is accented with a blush. Our gazes lock and she bites the corner of her lip. I break eye contact just long enough to check the time on my phone. “One hour and three minutes.”
“Maybe a quick study break?”
I’m on her so fast, she doesn’t have time to react.
One of her books falls to the floor and I shove her laptop out of the way. Giggling underneath me, she slides her hands up the front of my T-shirt.
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
“I see that.”
I sit back and grab her forearm so I can pull her up and onto my lap. I freaking love when she straddles me. Bridget yelps and pulls away from my touch.
“Oh shit, babe. I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”
Her face pales. “No. I’m fine.”
She sits on my dick, but there’s still a weird look on her face.
“Let me see.” I reach for her arm.
“I’m fine. Really.” She tugs at the sleeve of her sweater and smiles at me.
Something doesn’t seem right.
“Bridge?”
Her lips fall into a straight line, and she cradles her arm protectively. “It’s nothing. I hurt it yesterday.”
Carefully, I pull up the sleeve, revealing bruising a few inches from her wrist. It’s red and purple, splotchy like someone wrapped their fingers around her delicate skin and squeezed. My stomach bottoms out.
“Fuck, Bridge. Did I do that when we were having sex?” I try to think back to the other night. I’m sure I pinned her hands above her head at some point.
“No,” she says quickly, then her voice lowers. “No. You didn’t do it.”
The wheels turn slowly. I didn’t do it. But someone did.
“Bridge…” My pulse quickens and heat climbs up my face.
Tears fill her eyes.
“Who did this?”
It takes everything inside me not to rush her to talk, but I can see her working up to saying more.
“Yesterday when I left here, I stopped by the coffee shop in my old neighborhood.”
“Right.” She sent a cute pic of her with coffee standing beside my SUV. It’s the new wallpaper on my phone.
“After I sent that picture, I ran into Gabe.”
Goddamnmotherfuckershitfuckdammit.
My body is eerily calm as I rage internally. “Gabe did this? He put his hands on you?”
“I was just trying to get away from him.”
“This is not your fault,” I say too quickly, showing some of my anger.
She tenses.
“Baby.” I place both my hands softly on her face and look her in the eye. “Whatever happened, there’s no excuse for it ending with you having fucking bruises on your arm.”
Her lip trembles. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone there. He saw the SUV. He knows that we’re seeing each other.”
“Listen to me, Bridget. You have nothing to apologize for. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Not much. I saw him, he said some terrible things about me and you, and then said that he’d ruin you unless I had sex with him,” she whispers. “And then I dropped my coffee on him and got away.”
Ruin me? That’ll be hard to do with two broken legs and a smashed jaw.
I kiss her forehead and then move her to the couch beside me. “I need to call my agent.”
“No, no, no.” She holds on to me to keep me from moving. “Please don’t tell anyone. I didn’t even want to tell you.”
“I always want you to tell me.”
“You know it’s complicated. He isn’t just some jerk ex-boyfriend. He can damage your career.”
Like I give a fuck right now. “This has gone too far. He doesn’t get to talk to you like that and he definitely doesn’t get to put his fucking hands on you. Are those the only ones?”
She hesitates, then shows me the other arm. It has similar bruising.
Motherfuckingcockfuckasshole.
“I’m fine, okay? I made a mistake going somewhere that I might run into him. I knew he went to that coffee shop sometimes. You going to talk to him or making a big scene will just make things worse. I thought about it all night. If he was going to trade you, he would have by now. He’s just trying to scare me.”
A slow unsettling rage fills me as I realize two things at once. One: Bridget’s been trying to avoid Gabe since we started dating. I already knew this, but suddenly the not going to games or out in public together looks different. I thought I understood it before, but I was only thinking about what it meant for me if he saw us together. She was telling me, and I didn’t hear her. She didn’t want to see him. Which leads to number two: This isn’t the first time he’s hurt her.
I feel like my legs have been taken out from underneath me while skating hard down the ice.
“How many times?”
“What?”
My brows lift and I hold her gaze. “How many times has he put his hands on you in anger?”
She looks away first. “Twice. The first time he swore it would never happen again. When it did, I broke up with him.”
A memory of the first night I saw her outside the bar makes my stomach twist. He grabbed her arm and she winced. It was right there in front of my face.
“I wanna fucking burn him alive.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against my body, wishing I could turn back time and keep her safe. I can’t change the past, but I can protect her now.
“If anyone gets to do the honors, it should be me.”
“I’ll hand you the matches.”
She sighs into my chest. “We have to be more careful. We’ve been spending so much time together that we’ve gotten sloppy in trying to hide it.”
“Fuck that. I’m not hiding you anymore.”
“Ash,” she says quietly. “This was only ever supposed to be casual for this very reason.”
“Is that what you want?”
“It’s what’s best for both of us. I won’t let him destroy your career because of me.”
“I can handle myself.” I lift her chin up. “Do you want this to be over?”
She shakes her head.
Relief washes over me. “Good. I was going to have a real hard time letting you go.”
A hint of a smile graces her lips.
“I’m so sorry.”
She nods in acknowledgment and then presses her lips to mine. “Make me forget.”
I stand with her in my arms and carry her into my bedroom. I place her on top of the comforter, then remove my T-shirt. She looks up at me, eyes still a little glossy but sparking with heat.
I undo her pants and she helps me get them off, then she sits up and removes her sweater. My gaze drifts to the bruising again. I lie down beside her and kiss the spots he touched.
I’m slow and unhurried despite the way everything inside me feels amplified and urgent.
“Don’t you dare treat me differently,” she says, her voice finding some resolve again. “I won’t break.”
“Never, babe. You’re the toughest girl I know.”