Off the Record (Off 3)

"I'm not a prude, you know."

I look at her startled. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not a prude. I don't want you to think I was judging your lifestyle because I have antiquated views about sex."

Well, hell. That is exactly what I had thought after I read that article, but I have no clue what to say in response. So I ask instead, "Then why were you judging me so harshly?"

She shrugs her shoulders, as if her answer is silly. But then she stops walking and looks at me. Her eyes are serious. "Let's just say I've had some betrayal issues in my past that tend to make me a little bit sensitive to things like loyalty and commitment. I must have seen your actions as some sort of betrayal."

"I don't understand why? I owed you nothing. You owed me nothing."

Ever throws her hands up in frustration and resumes walking. "I know. It's crazy. The only thing I can fathom is that maybe your invitation to dinner seemed like a serious effort on your part to get to know me. And your meaningless sex was, well...meaningless. It just rubbed me the wrong way...that you could want both things."

Now things are starting to make sense to me. Reaching out, I grab hold of Ever's wrist. She stops and looks at me with curiosity.

"Did someone cheat on you?" I ask.

Her face goes even paler than normal and her irises eyes actually darken a bit. I have my answer without even needing her to say it. But she provides it to me anyway.

"Yes. My ex-fiance," she says quietly.

I curse under my breath. Now I feel like such an asshole for making the comment yesterday about her driving her fiance off.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I rub the inside of her wrist as I ask, trying to sooth her.

Ever glances down to my hand. It's large around her tiny wrist and my skin is dark compared to her paleness. She pulls back slightly and I release her.

"There's nothing to talk about," she says as she resumes walking. "It's over and done with. I never even think about it."

Yeah, right. "Never?"

"Nope. I'm pretty resilient, Caldwell. You trample on me, I know how to pick myself up, brush myself off, and get on with my life."

I don't say anything but I think to myself, But at what cost?

A change in subject is definitely in order. It's not for me to try to figure out her emotional man-trauma. It has nothing to do with me as long as she can keep those feelings out of her next article.

"So, how did you end up at Columbia from Duke?"

"I made a mistake and followed my heart."

Definitely a touch of bitter laced inside her sweet accent. "Let me guess...the ex-fiance?"

She nods. "Yup. Marc. We met at Duke. He graduated a year before me and got a job in New York. He asked me to transfer so I could be with him and I said yes."

I can't help but note the bitterness seemed to increase when she mentioned transferring schools. In fact, there is way more sharpness to her tone than when she was talking about her ex-fiance. "You didn't want to leave Duke." It's a statement I'm making, not a question.

A wistful smile slides into place and her cerulean eyes are dreamy. "To graduate from Duke is all I ever wanted growing up. My mom and dad both went there."

"You're close to your parents, huh?"

"My mom...yes. Very close. My dad, not so much."

It wasn't hard to hear the sweet and reverent tone when she talked about her mom. With her dad, I heard something close to loathing.

"I'm really close to my dad. You'll get to meet him this weekend as we're getting together for dinner at his house with Nix and Emily."

"What about your mom?"

"She died of ovarian cancer when I was eight. I don't have a lot of memories of her, but the ones I do have are good."

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "That must of have been tough."

"It was, but my dad is amazing. He did a great job as both a mother and father to me and Nix. You'll really like him."

"I don't want to interfere with family time. You should go alone. Besides, I'm not sure Emily wants to see me. You should hear some of the voice mails she left me after the article ran. I've been too chicken to call her."

I chuckle. "Emily won't be mad once you explain things to her. Besides, you're writing another article about me and that includes getting to see me around my family."

"Well, if you're sure?" She sounds shy all of a sudden.

"I'm sure. Besides, I need you to hang out with some people that can vouch that I'm not a bad guy." I'm joking with her, but I realize with absolute certainty that I need for this woman to see that I'm not a bad guy. And I'm not sure where that is coming from. I've never really cared what a woman thought before, other than to make sure she was pleased in bed.

I figure it must be the fact that I don't want my fans to be disappointed in the article that she writes. That has to be it, because the alternative is not something I want to give credence to. Because it spooks me to no end that I may actually like Ever just a bit and her personal opinion of me is important.

Her next words thrill me. "I don't think you're a bad guy, Linc."

My heart lifts up and somersaults in my chest, a reaction that disturbs me greatly.

Fuck! I don't like what those words do to me.

I'm sitting in a hospital room and I couldn't feel more out of place. The room itself is lovely. It's lavishly decorated with hardwood floors and ambient lighting. The furniture looks to be mahogany and even the windows have expensive treatments adorning them. It looks like a room at the Ritz...or so I would imagine. I suppose if you're married to a New York Ranger, you get star treatment.

The chair that I've taken in the corner lets me observe everything, despite the awkwardness of the situation.

We are here to visit Danny Burnham, who just had her baby last night. Danny looks amazingly beautiful, especially given the fact that she went through several hours of hard labor. She's watching her mother-in-law hold the baby, a dreamy look on her f

ace.

The room is full of family and I am an outsider. Emily hasn't talked to me yet but she gave me a hard glare when I walked in. Linc quickly introduced me to everyone and explained that I was doing a follow up piece to my original article. This statement was met by polite smiles but I can tell everyone is pissed at me for what I wrote.

I have no right to let it hurt my feelings. I deserve it.

Linc woke me up this morning at 6:00am and we went on a run. I had no problem making the five miles, although I am a little sore. It also probably has something to do with the fact that I tried to work out with Linc at the gym yesterday afternoon. But after an hour, I had to give up and watch him...counting reps as he told me I would do.

The man is a machine. I've never seen anyone push their body as hard as he does. I thought I'd be bored, just watching him workout, but I'd be lying if I said it was a chore. His body is unrealistically beautiful. He's all tanned skin and hard muscle...chiseled perfection. Hell, even his sweat is sexy.

And his work ethic is beyond amazing. I'm starting to understand that there is no summer long vacation for NHL players. They work year round and have to make a lot of sacrifices, which causes my respect for him to increase a little.

I watch Linc talking with Congressman Burnham. He is naturally at ease, his hands casually tucked in his pockets. They're talking about golf, a sport that I found Linc enjoys playing. He tells a golf joke--which I don't get--and Mr. Burnham laughs with gusto. It's a marvel to me that Linc is so poised at age twenty-four, but I guess when you are in the public eye, you learn how to handle yourself.

Admittedly, my feelings about Linc are conflicted. On the one hand, I have accepted the fact that I misjudged the situation that had occurred last Friday. He wasn't the complete man-whore I thought him to be, but he's by no means a monogamous angel either. I have not been able to get out of my head when he told me that he had fucked that woman, and fucked her hard. My sensibilities say I should be offended. Instead, I'm a little jealous and that bugs the crap out of me. The way he said that to me--his voice low and vibrating with promise--had me imagining the dirtiest of sexual scenarios.

On the other hand, I am still having a hard time reconciling that Linc is quite the playboy. He has every right to be but it grates on my nerves. I cannot help but wonder what would have happened had we gone out to dinner that night. If I had just said yes, rather than sensibly saying no.