Rebound (Seattle Steelheads #1)(10)

“Understandable,” he said softly.

“Especially since he…” I hesitated, not sure how to word it. “He definitely got under my skin.”

“In what way?”

“Fucked with my head, mostly.” I sipped my coffee, but it tasted more bitter than it should have. “Hockey players… We’re superstitious as hell.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, well, Nathan didn’t just know that—he exploited it. He’s been a season ticket holder since I was a rookie. A few rows back from the glass so I could actually see him instead of up in one of the VIP boxes. I loved it back then, and the Steelheads, we were having a kickass season, so he kept saying he was my good luck charm. He’d joke about not showing up to a game just to see if we’d lose.” I stared into my coffee cup. “Then we got into a huge fight one morning before a home game. When I went out on the ice for warm-ups, he was there. And he was there for the first period. But when we came back out for the second?” I shook my head. “He was gone. I thought he might’ve gone to get some food or take a leak, but he didn’t come back. And I just… I choked. We lost, and the next home game, he didn’t show up at all, and we lost again.”

“Jesus,” Geoff said.

“Yeah.” My stomach roiled and my face burned with shame and embarrassment. “I begged him to start coming to games again. He did, and we…” I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, “And we started winning again.”

“So you’ve been afraid to leave him because he wouldn’t come to games anymore.”

Without looking at him, I nodded. “It sounds so stupid, but… I mean, during warm-ups at every game? The first thing I do when I come out on to the ice is look up at his seat to make sure he’s there.” I swallowed. “Is it weird that I’m freaking out about him not being in his seat during warm-ups once the season starts?”

Geoff shook his head. “No. Like you said, he got under your skin. Just because you got rid of him doesn’t mean that itch will go away overnight.”

“True. I don’t know. I just… It’s all so… I mean, between being afraid of how he’d take it if I dumped him, and worrying I’d jinx myself and the team or—”

“Asher.” The way he said my name didn’t just stop my rambling. I swore it was like he’d put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and damn it, now I wished he really would. When I turned to him, he looked right in my eyes. “It’s not stupid. Even leaving a normal, healthy relationship is hard. Walking away from an abuser?” He groaned and shook his head. “I swear it was easier to quit smoking than it was to leave my ex.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He held my gaze. “Listen, my ex never got violent, but he was abusive in his own ways. Let’s just say I’m the last person who’ll tell you it’s easy to walk away from that.”

I tried not to let my surprise show. He? Did Geoff say he? But all I said was, “Really?”

He nodded, breaking eye contact and fixing his attention on something across the room. His fingers drummed on his coffee cup. “He played head games. A lot of them. Fucker even played my kids against me.”

“He did?”

Another nod, eyes still focused on something else. “I wouldn’t say he spoiled them, but life with him was definitely not the same as life under my paycheck or their mom’s. I mean, I’m a cop and I have my military retirement. I’m not exactly…” He waved a hand at our surroundings. “Loaded. My ex, though. He’s got a cushy, high-up position at one of the big software companies, and let’s just say they pay him well. At first I didn’t like the idea of him paying for things, but he insisted that if we were partners, we shouldn’t make things his and mine. If my kids needed something, for example, they weren’t going to do without just because I didn’t have the money when he did have it.”

I grimaced. “Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

He huffed a quiet, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Pretty obvious in hindsight. Especially since he saved my ass a few times. Helped cover some expenses that would have left me up Shit Creek. I just…didn’t know he was keeping tally in his head until he started calling things in.”

I swallowed. “Calling them in, how?”

“Mostly lording the big purchases over me so he could get what he wanted. Make me give in during an argument.” He paused, jaw working, and then he softly added, “Get what he wanted sexually.”

“Whoa,” I breathed. “Really?”

Geoff nodded without looking at me. “He was manipulative anyway, and when he had leverage—like money—he used it. Hell, I found out later when one of my kids let it slip that he’d basically been promising them the moon once we got married. College tuition, big vacations, cars, weddings when the time came. We’d get married, and then they’d be his kids for real, and I think they were clinging to that idea. That if we made things permanent, they wouldn’t have to worry anymore that he might leave.”

“They were worried about that?”

Scowling, he nodded again. “Marcus was good at dropping little hints now and then and making sure they knew he was ‘just’ Dad’s boyfriend. Boyfriends were temporary. Husbands were permanent.”