Lucas (Cold Fury Hockey 8)

"Oh God," she wheezes with her hand against her chest. She stumbles backward and sits down on the arm of the couch, her eyes staring blankly at the carpet. I wait for her to say something. To look at me. Fuck...anything other than this silence that's actually so loud it hurts my ears.

"Is that all you have to say?" I ask her quietly. "Oh God?"

Her eyes come to mine, swimming with fresh tears. "I had a nice talk with your dad during the game a few days ago."

This, I wasn't expecting and I blink in surprise.

"He told me something I really already knew deep down," she murmurs. "And that's you're a man who is all or nothing. When you choose to do something, your heart and soul are behind it."

"That's right," I admit hesitantly.

"You see," she says in a small voice filled with misery. "A man like that, well, he needs the same in return. He needs a woman who gives it her all and is willing to expose her heart and soul to do so."

She lets the words hang heavy in the air, and no amount of wishful thinking will turn them into something else. She doesn't respond to those things I laid at her feet with great sanctity such as love, marriage, kids, and a happily ever after. She says nothing more, and that says it all.

"I don't understand how having someone love and care for you can be so bad," I say, almost pleading with her to give me an answer to make this all better.

Her voice is flat and devoid of emotion. She gives me a robotic answer. A bullshit answer that she's told herself so much it comes out rehearsed and disingenuous. "Although it wasn't by my choice originally, there's a benefit to being alone. You can avoid the risk of pain, because by being alone, you are guaranteed no one can hurt you."

I know I'm a shit when I say it, but I can't help it. She's punking out on me and giving up before she ever really even tried.

"Is that what you're going to teach our child?" I ask her in an icy voice. "You going to teach that baby to put walls up and close itself off from others?"

Stephanie's face turns horror stricken. "God, no," she gasps. "How could you even think that?"

"Because you're fucking quoting that shit as your own personal doctrine to live by," I snarl at her. "Because that's all you know, and you're too fucking scared to try for something better."

And that's the moment that I killed whatever chance I had with Stephanie, and I know that because her eyes go dead. Her voice is whisper soft but utterly fucking dead. "I'm sorry," is all she gives me.

Our eyes are locked on each other, both of us battling to achieve things that aren't acceptable to the other. Neither one of us able to fix what's now broken.

"Where does that leave us?" I ask slowly.

After taking a deep, stuttering breath, she says, "I think I need some space."

"I need you to be a little more specific than that," I grit out, my anger starting to surge again because I'm now feeling utterly fucking powerless.

"I think for right now we just need to concentrate on this pregnancy and figuring out how to be parents," she replies vaguely.

"So you want to just be friends again?"

"Yes," she whispers, and I see something flicker back to life in her eyes.

Is that hope?

"I don't think I can do that, Stephy," I tell her firmly, perhaps hoping to push her into taking a chance to still move forward. "I don't think I can go backward, and besides, that's how the lines got blurred in the first place."

Fear flashes in her eyes before they go flat and devoid of anything again, and I know that was the wrong thing to say.

"I know you care for me," I tell her harshly, my anger rising again. "You're just too weak to admit it."

She doesn't respond, just stares at me with those dead eyes. I wonder if that's how she looked at her parents, and I hate myself and them for causing that, but I also think I hate Stephanie just a little bit for not being strong enough to risk it.

"Can you really just turn your feelings off like that?" I spit out at her, hoping to force some type of reaction.

And I get one.

It's a sardonic smile, and her eyes are now filled with pain and regret. "Don't you get it, Luc? I don't have feelings. Not the kind that would sustain what you need. It's what I am. Who I am."

Fury rolls through me in blistering waves because she's a fucking liar and a monster for even throwing that out at me. I know I'll regret the words, but I need to hurt her as much as she's hurt me. "I feel sorry for you, Steph. And I feel sorry for our kid. I sure hope to shit you learn how to really love before that baby comes along, or you're going to fuck up its life the way your parents fucked up yours."

I spin from her, not wanting to see how hard that last barb hit her and already reeling from the guilt of those nasty, slicing words. But I'll get over it. She'll get over it.

I pick up my duffel bag and sling it over my shoulder. As I open the door and step through, I call out over my shoulder, "I'll see you at the next doctor's appointment if I'm in town. If not, email me how it went."

Pulling the door shut behind me, I leave Stephanie and her crazy, fucked-up head behind. I don't need that shit.

Chapter 22

Stephanie

My hands are sweating from nervousness, but I know I can't avoid this anymore. If I want to put my nonprofit idea into action, I need Jules's help, as she's my contact for a trial run at Sweetbrier. I've obviously been staying clear of anyone these last two weeks who could be remotely tied to Lucas, and Jules, as his future sister-in-law, is about as close as you can get to the man.

But she's actually been the one encouraging me to meet, telling me she's as excited about this idea as I am. It got put on hold for a while because, well, I was dealing with this big nasty breakup.

For all my talk about keeping this casual and not entering into a relationship, there is no doubt in my mind that I was heavily involved in a deep and meaningful relationship with Luc, because otherwise, it wouldn't be hurting this fucking much not having him.

For all of my grandiose ideas of pushing him away so I couldn't get hurt, I ended up getting fucking crushed by the pain of losing him.

Lucas put everything out on the table. He put his heart at risk without even blinking those gorgeous eyes. He dangled love and marriage in front of me like a worm on a hook, and I was too goddamned scared to take the bait.

Within twenty-four hours of Luc leaving my apartment after telling me I was essentially going to fuck our child up, I got a voice mail from Jules. It was short and kind and she offered to talk when and if I was ever ready. I ignored it for a few days before I reached out to her, letting her know I appreciated her concern but I was fine.

She didn't buy it. She prodded me gently through text exchanges, but mostly she was inquisitive about how I'd been doing with the pregnancy, and I didn't hold back on that. I assumed she'd pass the info on to Lucas for me.

He has the right to know, even if he's not bothered to reach out to me once in the past two weeks to see how I'm doing. He went from caring and vigilant to frustrated to infuriated to nothing.

Absolutely nothing at all.

I have to shake my head clear of those thoughts because they'll drag me down into misery, and I'll be damned if I want to suffer another crying spell filled with regret.

Opening the door to the restaurant, I immediately spot Jules waiting for me near the hostess podium. She quickly rakes her eyes over me as if she's trying to determine how I'm feeling. She beams a smile at me as she walks my way, opening her arms for a hug.

This has always been awkward to me, but for some reason, I easily accept her embrace. Maybe some of the ways I'd opened up over the last few months have stuck. Or maybe it's just that I want to be close to Lucas and the only way is through Jules.

Regardless, when she pulls back she holds my shoulders and looks down at my belly briefly before looking back up again. "You have a baby bump."

That breaks the ice right there and I laugh as I look down, running a hand over the slight swelling that's

easily discernable under the tight tank top I'd worn with a pair of stretchy jeans. "It's about right on time, although truth be told, not sure if that's the baby or the Cherry Garcia ice cream causing that."

Jules laughs. "Who cares? It's adorable."

Lucas would think so. He'd been waiting for that to happen. I push down the longing that creeps up and make my smile brighter.

The hostess approaches us with menus and we break apart to follow her to our table. After we sit down and study our menus, we talk about Jules's kids and how I've been feeling until the waitress takes our orders.

"So when is your next appointment?" Jules asks after sipping her iced water.

"Next Friday. I'll be at thirteen weeks."

"Well, you look amazing. You're glowing, actually," she says with a wave of her hand in my direction. "I've heard pregnancy could do that to you."

"I actually feel pretty good," I admit to her.

"I kind of thought I'd be getting a beat-down, haggard-looking Stephanie who was completely depressed or something," she says, and my jaw drops wide open.

She did not just go there.