Hockey With Benefits(35)

Or he looked it.

I couldn’t read him right now.

I was also remembering that I was still wearing his hoodie.

This was the shit I didn’t want to deal with in our arrangement. But I was dealing with it because I didn’t want to end what we had going, and I didn’t want to think any more on that because I should end it, right now, as soon as possible.

I said, “You know Tasmin Shaw?”

He frowned a little, his head cocking to the side. “I think so.”

“Ryerson is her boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s a cool guy.”

“I used to have the same arrangement with her half-brother that I do with you.” My tongue was sticking to the back of my throat. I did not want to talk about Blaise with Cruz. “Except he and I were friends.”

His eyes flickered before a long slow nod. “I see. It didn’t end well?”

I hated this, hated it. But here I was, going personal.

I went to my chair by the couch and scooted back in the corner, bringing my legs up and hugging my knees to my chest. I looked away because I did not want to see Cruz when I said some of this.

“Things are a lot with my home life, and that’s all I’m going to ever say about that, but I use sex to cope with it. Blaise fell for someone, called quits on our arrangement, and well; it was during a really hard time at home. I was losing the thing I used to cope with what was going on, and I didn’t handle it very well. Not because of him, but because I didn’t have another lifeline set in place. If I had, I wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t know any of that and I’m still embarrassed, even a year later, how I reacted. I can be…a bitch to push people away.”

“Blaise DeVroe.”

He wasn’t speaking like that was a question. He knew who Blaise was. “Yeah. Seems I have a type.”

“Your ex is another major athlete.” Cruz let out a short laugh. “You acted like you didn’t know who I was when we hooked up the first time.”

My head whipped to his. “I didn’t. I found out in December.”

His eyes were narrowed, and there was a coldness that I’d never seen directed at me. Ice went down my spine. “I don’t like being targeted or used.”

“Fuck you. I did neither.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t believe you.”

Okay. This was going the route it needed to. “Then leave, Cruz. Our arrangement was for a reason. I didn’t lie, ever. I had no clue who you were until your name started popping up in everyone’s conversations about the hockey team. The door’s that way. No skin off my nose.”

His jaw was still clenching, and he looked away, a harshness coming off him. “I didn’t want a girlfriend.”

“We’re not. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“We’re something because I’m pissed thinking you targeted me, and I’m not leaving. I should’ve walked the second you said your ex’s name.”

“He wasn’t my ex.”

He shot back, “He was your ex of something.”

I couldn’t fight against that.

“Goddammit!” He rose from the couch.

I watched him, locking down, waiting for him to walk out that door. It’s what he should do. He knew it and I knew it, but I wasn’t being a bitch. I wasn’t sealing the end of us in place, and that was terrifying me.

My phone started ringing again, but I ignored it.

I was waiting for Cruz to either leave or do what he came here for. He needed to make the decision, and I’d handle the consequences.

He wasn’t moving, but he was glaring at me. He was seething, looking like he hated me.

That calmed me for some crazy reason. It did. If he hated me, we could still do this. Hate fucking was sometimes the best kind. Hate fucking. Loathe fucking. Just a good personal barrier in there, between him and me that kept us from getting close because we were already too close. It was too personal. Too dangerous.

Too foolish.

But if he hated me, yeah. I could see it. We could still do this then. He just had to keep hating me.

My phone stopped ringing, and a second later, it started up again.

Cruz cursed, going for the phone. He answered, “What?”

A woman’s voice was on the other end.

He blinked, frowning, but handed the phone to me. “Some lady in Vegas?”

I launched off the chair, snatching the phone from him and I went to the bedroom. “Mom?”

“I’m not her.”

It wasn’t the lady from before. Different voice.

“Who is this?”

She coughed into the phone, her voice coming out hoarse. “I got a call from your mom. I was in the same facility as her. She asked me to give you a message.”

Every word she said was searing me. “What’s the message?” I didn’t want to hear it. It would be bad, so bad.

“She said she knows where you are and if you don’t want her to show up and fuck your life up, she wants fifty grand.” The lady’s tone grew firm but cold. Businesslike. “You’ve got to the end of the week to get it to her, and she said if you want instructions on how to get it to her, unblock one of her numbers. She’ll be waiting for your call.”

She ended the call after that.