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"Do you plan on keeping it that way?" I ask, realizing that was one step too far, especially when it comes to Seven.
His eyes abandoned the fire and glanced up to mine.
I can practically see the flames reflecting off his eyes. I could take back the question but at this point, he'll answer or not. No point in backing down now. He had already heard the question.
"I wanted kids… once." he says, and then his eyes shoot back down to watch the fire again, cutting off my ability to read anything in those brim and firestone eyes.
"But not anymore? Why not? Because of hockey?"
"I can see you're not going to give this one up."
"If I can help it. So tell me, why doesn't a guy like you want to settle down and have a family?"
I take a sip of my wine, exuding as much confidence as possible, though the intensity of Seven's stare makes me want to hide behind this Adirondack chair.
"Are you sure you want a story? This isn't going to be the kind you write in your books with a happily ever after at the end."
The look on his face suggests that whatever story he has, he's numb to. But he knows that I won't like this one. Still, I can't let this opportunity go. He likely won't give me another.
"I was engaged to Cammy's mom first," I hold my breath the second he says it. "One Christmas Eve, I made it home after our weekend days. The flights were all canceled, and the bus system was down, so I bribed the last guy to get into his rental vehicle, and I paid him triple to let me take it. I drove a two-wheel drive car the size of a toast, about twenty miles per hour for five hours on the highway just to get home to see her.
"I don't like the way this is going."
"You're right not to," he says and then clears his throat. "Long story short, the rest of it is as cliche and unoriginal as they usually are. She and my brother were already asleep in our bed. In the house, I bought her with my rookie signing bonus. And an ultrasound sonogram on the kitchen island of a baby that wasn't mine."
"Oh God, Seven, I'm sorry."
"She begged me to let her stay in our hometown while I traveled. She said she wanted to build us a home for the off-season and that it would be easier to start a family if she was close to family. The truth is, I was always the backup plan, and she was the girl next door who had always had a crush on my older brother. If I hadn't been cocky enough to think a professional contract with millions and her dream house could buy her love, I might have been smart enough to have seen that I was never the one she wanted. I was the backup plan. And when my brother came back injured from overseas, she saw her opening."
"It's hard to imagine you as anyone's backup plan," I say.
I have a feeling that a large number of female hockey fans would agree.
"Really? Aren't I your second choice?" he says.
"Wait what did you just say?"
Second choice?
He's a hockey god with washboard abs and the ability to make me orgasm practically on demand. He's not my second choice because I'd never be so bold as to add him to the list. As of less than twenty-four hours ago, I thought the man couldn't stand me and was putting up with me out of decency.
"Forget it," he says quickly, standing out of his chair. "Are you ready to go back to the house?"
Before I can answer, he walks over to dump two large buckets of water over the fire. Smoke and steam billow between us, making it hard for me to see him now in the dark and then he turns and heads for the house, leaving me behind.
"Seven, please stop and talk to me," I say, trying to catch up with his long strides in the sand.
"I'd rather we didn't," he says, trudging ahead of me.
He moves so much easier through the sand than I do.
He gets to the door before I do and opens it, leaving it open for me and I jump up on the porch, now finally able to gain a little speed on flat ground. My hurried steps follow after him down the hall and just as he reaches for the handle of his bedroom door, I grip around his wrist to get his attention.
He looks down at me, our eyes connecting but I can see the blankness in his stare— the indifference he's always trying to broadcast.
"You're not my second choice," I say, a little out of breath.
"I never should have touched you, Brynn."
