BREAKAWAY (The Dartmouth Cobras) (26 page)

All for nothing.
She locked herself in her car and pressed her forehead to the steering wheel. Hours of practice, days of dealing with everyone but Akira and Sahara resenting her for even being here, putting everything she had into proving herself worthy . . .
 
she choked on a sob. They had been looking for a reason to get rid of her from the start.
And I gave them one.

* * * *

"Luke, honey, I don't understand!"

Luke thumped his fist into his thigh as he paced the parking lot outside the forum, holding his cell phone to his ear. "I don't know why someone would email you that, Mom. I'm sorry they did."

"That's not what I mean. How could you do that where someone could take pictures of you?"

"I didn't see anyone hanging around the balcony with a camera."

His mother hissed out a breath in his ear. "Don't you take that blasé tone with me, young man.
Oh!
If you weren't too old to spank—"

Luke snorted, then coughed hard. "Mom, you never spanked me."

"I should have! Maybe then you'd be loyal to your girlfriend. That poor girl. Does she know?"

So much for letting her believe whatever would make her happy.
"Teresa dumped me."

"Because of the girl you were on the balcony with? What were you thinking? She was such a sweet thing too. Unfortunately, you can't expect her to forgive you for this. You humiliated her!"

"She dumped me before that. Last week actually."

"Why?"

"Because I'm an ugly hockey player."

"Nonsense! Who told you something so ridiculous? If Teresa said that, she was probably upset about something else." His mother sighed in that way she did when all was lost. "I imagine you forgot her birthday or something. In any case, there's nothing you can do about it now. What about this other girl? Apparently, she has a wild side, but is she nice? Do you think you could—"

"I haven't known her that long, Mom." Luke grinned despite himself. Since Mom was so eager to marry him off . . . "I promise, if we make it past two weeks I'll propose."

 
"You are impossible." She sighed again, then laughed. "Anyway, how about some good news for a change? I met a new doctor and he thinks he can operate! He's handled other cases just like mine before. And since the swelling has gone down, it could be done as soon as this summer!"

"That's awesome!" His hand shook and he almost dropped the phone. Tears spilled from his eyes, and he didn’t bother trying to hold them back. He'd done what his mother had told him to do. He'd focused on the game. But fuck the game. And fuck all the other messed up shit.
Mom’s
gonna
be okay!
"
Swear
you'll tell me when it is so I can be there. I'll bring you your favorite chocolate and those ugly flowers you like. And books. What are you reading now? If you're waiting for something that isn't out yet maybe I can talk to my agent and see if he knows someone that knows someone that can—"

"Luke."

"Yeah, Mom?"

"I love you. Just bring you and I'll be happy." She let out a girlish giggle. "And bring that girl of yours if you're still with her. Or the next one, I don't care. Maybe one day you'll accidentally give me grandbabies!"

"
Mother!
" He tried to sound scandalized, but his mom joking around meant she was feeling better. And she finally had a reason to hope. "All right, your doctor told me being on the phone too long isn't good for you, so I'm
gonna
let you go. I'll call you Friday when I get back from Buffalo."

"Make sure you do."

As soon as he hung up, someone touched his arm. Before he could turn, Akira had already snatched her hand back and retreated.

"Hey, what's up?" He put his hands in his pockets and gave her a disarming smile. "Jami send you?"

"No. And I can't find her anywhere." Akira hugged herself and her eyes shone with tears. "She's not answering her phone. I came to meet her after tryouts, but I missed the bus and I was a bit late—one of the girls told me . . . ."

"Told you what?" Luke did his best to keep his tone calm, but if something was wrong with Jami, Akira needed to spit it out. "Come on, Akira. What's going on with Jami?"

"There were pictures of you and her in her locker—hundreds of them. One of the judges saw them."

Shit.
The cement floor underneath his feet didn’t seem solid anymore. A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes as he pictured Jami, surrounded by those pictures, by all those bitches who were so fucking jealous of her, trying be so strong because that’s the
kinda
woman she was. Something like this could ruin any chance she had to make the team. And it was his fault. He'd been caught by the paparazzi before doing craziness, and there were a couple of
pics
out there of him naked, sleeping in a hotel room, taken by puck bunnies. But he was a guy. It wasn't fair, but that's how things were.

Jami must be crushed.

"Come on, we'll go see if she's at her place." He led Akira into the garage, glad that she'd gotten over her fear of him enough to help her friend. Jami needed them both.

Or maybe not.

He spotted Jami's car on the way to his. Sebastian was there, holding her steady, kissing away her tears and speaking softly in her ear.

He knows how to take care of her. You fucking know that, Carter. You knew it last night.
Luke stopped short, swallowing hard.
There’s nothing you can do to make this better for her.

Akira walked right past Luke, hovering near the car, but not getting too close. Jami slipped away from Sebastian and went to hug Akira. She was shaking so hard, he wanted to go to her, to give her some of his strength and tell her . . .

Tell her what? You really
gonna
make her look at you after you fucked everything up for her?
Luke shook his head. This wasn’t about what he wanted. It was about what she needed. And that wasn’t him. He backed away quietly. Then froze when Jami spoke up, loud and clear.

"If you walk away from me now, Luke . . . don't bother coming back."

* * * *

Jami had no idea why she'd said that. She almost told him to forget it. If all they'd had between them was some hot, kinky sex, then he could keep going. At least she'd know.

But she held her breath as every step he took echoed loud in the big, virtually empty parking garage. As he came closer, she had to lock her knees to keep herself from retreating into Sebastian. She didn't know what to do with Luke’s unreadable expression. The only thing she had to go on was that he hadn't walked away.

"I wasn't sure you'd want to see me," he said.

She nodded slowly and looked down at the plain, flat black dance shoes she hadn't gotten a chance to change out of yet. "Akira told you about the pictures?"

"Yeah, but I'd already heard from my mom."

His mom?
She brought her head up, brow furrowed. "How did she—"

"Someone sent her an email. She doesn't know who." He scuffed his sneakers on the pavement. "She was pissed when she thought I was cheating on my girlfriend, but I told her we broke up so it's all good."

“It’s not all good.”

“Yeah, I know. This ruined things for you and I’m sorry, I wish I could—”

“No, I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault.” She reached out to take his hand and shook her head. “I got on the bad side of one of the girls trying out for the team. I'm sure she did this—she denied it of course."

His lips curved slightly. "Of course."

"She's just jealous."

Luke laughed and rubbed his knuckles on his chest. "I'm not surprised. I'm a coveted piece of meat."

And a real fucking asshole sometimes.
"Can you be serious for once? I'm glad this didn't shock your mom, but she's not the only one you need to worry about. If my dad sees those pictures—"

"
If
he sees them, and wants to do something about it, I'll deal with it then. I knew the risks of getting involved with you and . . . ." His words trailed off as the inner door to the parking garage opened.

They all looked over as Zachary Pearce, who she recognized from the one brief interview he'd done a few weeks back, sauntered over to his bulky black Harley. He inclined his shaved head in acknowledgement to a 'Hey' from Luke, then mounted and drove off.

"Antisocial bastard." Luke grumbled. "
Coulda
stayed to shoot the shit."

Right, because that wouldn't have been awkward.
Jami sighed and leaned back into Sebastian.
This guy wasn’t the one she and Sebastian had been with, or the one she’d danced with. He was the one who’d left her last night. And she didn’t have the energy to deal with him. "If you don't want to talk, Luke, just say so."

"I don't want to hear about how bad those fucking pictures will be for me. I’ll be fine." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Actually, I didn't getting much sleep last night. Your fault." He winked. "I'm
gonna
take off, crash for a bit. Why don't you hang out with Seb and Akira? I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

Yeah, I’m right on that.
"Sure. Whatever."

He rolled his eyes. "Stop doing that girly thing. It's nothing against you. Think of it as me wanting to be rested up for round two—or is it three?"

“Enough, Luke,” Sebastian said, his tone razor sharp. “She doesn’t need this from you now. Or ever.”

“Then what does she need from me, Seb?” Luke arched a brow. “Pretty sure you’ve got it all covered. Give me a shout when you need a spare.”

“Neither of us consider you a spare.” Sebastian rubbed Jami’s arms as she tensed and leaned back against him. “And this isn’t about sex.”

“So sorry,
Sir.
Guess I got confused without you telling me what to do.”

Wow. You trying to piss everyone off, Luke?
Actually, she had a bad feeling that was
exactly
what he was doing. But she didn’t know why. She inhaled deep and let it out in a sigh as she gazed up at the block lighting of the garage ceiling. "I’m so done. Akira, you want to go hang out? Get something to eat?"

"No, that's okay. The guys are leaving tomorrow, so enjoy yourself while you can. My parents are supposed to be calling sometime today anyway."
Akira chewed on her thumbnail as she spoke, obviously nervous and probably eager to get away from the men.

Or away from Sebastian anyway. She seemed almost okay with Luke. Even though he was being a complete jerk.

"You want a lift?" Luke asked Akira, pulling out his keys to twirl them around his finger. "I'm heading in that direction."

"Sure." Akira paused and reached out to squeeze Jami's hand. "Call me tomorrow, okay? If your name isn't on that list I'm going to . . . to do something. Not sure what yet, but I'll figure it out."

Jami laughed, pulling Akira into a hug, pressing her forehead against her friend’s shoulder so she could hide the tears that welled up in her eyes. "Thank you."

Standing beside Sebastian, Jami watched Luke and Akira as they walked over to Luke's red
Camaro
. Luke held the passenger door open for Akira, then came around and hesitated by the driver's side. He glanced back.

"Take care of her!" Jami called out.

Luke gave a mock salute and climbed into the car.

After he'd driven off, she spun around to face Sebastian, talking fast. “So, what are you going to do to me, now that you’ve got me alone?”

“Mi cielo—”

“Please, Sebastian, I don’t want to talk about it. Or think about it.” She toyed with his black and silver striped tie. “Help me forget.”

“Do you honestly believe you can?”

“With you? Definitely.” Her fingers went to his belt, but he gently pried them away from the buckle.

"Not yet, gatita. You will not evade my concerns as easily as you did Luke’s."

“I didn’t evade—”

“Yes. You did. And he let you.” Sebastian cupped her cheeks with both hands, using his thumbs to dry the tears that trickled from her stinging eyes. “I will help you forget, but first you will admit that you’re angry—”

“I’m not angry!” Not about the pictures. Not anymore. Her anger about the pictures had burnt out seconds after she’d punched Amy. But she was . . . frustrated. So frustrated she could hardly breathe. She’d wanted a one night stand with Sebastian, but she’d gotten so much more. And then she’d ended up having one with Luke, and that had fucked up everything. Him being sorry about the pictures didn’t count, he’d had no control over that. But he’d had complete control over making her feel used. And not in a good way.

How the hell do I explain that to Sebastian?

“You told me you can no longer be an Ice Girl,” Sebastian said, slowly, stroking her damp cheeks with his thumbs. “Because of the pictures.”

“Yeah, because I looked like a whore.” She winced at the word. At one point, being called a whore hadn’t bothered her, but those pictures put the word in a whole new context. “They made me see myself like other people see me. And that hurts.”

Fuck it hurts.
Admitting it felt like lancing an infected wound, sharp pain and then . . . it lessened. With Sebastian holding her, it all seeped away. The damage was still there, but she would heal. And he would help her.

His hand stroked from her cheek, along the length of her throat, and settled on her shoulder. “You know I don’t see you that way.”

“I do know.” She let out a watery laugh, sniffling. “Ugh, I’m all gross now. Can I clean up so we can get to the forgetting part?”

“You are not gross.” He smiled and handed her the white silk handkerchief from his suit pocket. “Just a little wet.”

She dabbed at her eyes, inconspicuously wiped her nose, then gave him the sexiest look she could manage. “A little?”

Dark eyes hooded, he pulled her into his arms one hand cradling her head as he kissed her. His mouth left hers far too soon, and then the jerk laughed at her pout. "Perhaps I should forget about my surprise if that's how you're going to behave."