Fall With Me (Playing For Keeps Book 4)

No thank you.

Three words I’ve heard on repeat this week. Three words that say everything I already know.

Do you want to go for a walk?

Do you want to go to Carter and Ollie’s?

Do you want to watch a movie?

Do you want to go for a coffee?

Do you want to talk about it?

No thank you. Three words I hate more than anything.

Except the reason they’re whispered.

Because honestly, I thought I knew heartbreak. I thought it couldn’t possibly get much worse than hearing my fiancé’s words to another woman. I thought there was no way anything could hurt more than the knife Ryne lodged through my chest when he cheated on me the night before our wedding, in front of our friends and family.

But this? Jaxon being so certain of his lack of worth, believing he’s so utterly unlovable, that he’s easy to walk away from, and even easier to forget? Jesus, this hurts so much worse.

It’s eye-opening, too, in a way I wasn’t expecting. I know how I feel about Jaxon. My eyes have been wide open since the day I woke up and found that coffee guide waiting for me on the kitchen counter, next to a bowl of cereal. I walked right into this, knowing full well where each slow, calculated step would eventually lead me. There is no part of me that’s surprised by the love that swells in my chest when I look at this man.

But I didn’t realize how earth-shattering love could be.

I didn’t realize that what I felt for Ryne, the man I was supposed to marry, would be blown out of the water by a man I was never supposed to know, a man I couldn’t stand at one point. I didn’t realize that the next time I fell in love, it would make me question everything I’d thought I knew about it. That I’d wonder if I’d even ever really loved Ryne at all.

That the thought I might have married him, might have never met Jaxon, might have had to live my entire life without ever knowing what real, selfless love felt like would be gutting enough to bring me to my knees every day this week in the shower, where I would drown my cries beneath the patter of rain. The last thing I want to do, in the midst of Jaxon’s inner turmoil, is give him more fuel for his fire, and that’s exactly what my pain will do to him.

So instead, I’ll do what I’ve been doing every day.

I’ll stay.

I’ll be here, right here where he needs me, even if he’s trying to convince himself he doesn’t.

Because that’s what this is. This is him putting distance between us before it’s put there by someone or something else. It’s him trying to control the situation, because he thinks if it’s his decision, maybe it’ll hurt less. He’s pulling away, because people have failed him time after time, abandoned him when he needed them most, and instead of realizing it only speaks to who they are, he’s convinced himself it’s who he is.

Or who he isn’t.

Jaxon Riley, the man who’s watched the people he’s cared about walk away from him over and over, thinks he’s not good enough for someone to stay.

Jaxon Riley, the man who’s been displaced from one home after another, thinks he isn’t good enough to be loved.

Jaxon Riley, the man who’s spent the last five months loving me exactly the way I needed to be loved, is wrong.

And I’m going to be right here when he realizes it.

A door creaks behind me, and tiny footprints prance down the hall and into the kitchen. Mittens meows at my feet before winding himself through my legs.

“Well, good morning, my sweet, handsome marshmallow.” I scoop him up, nuzzling my face against his, his loud engine purr making me smile. “I miss you, too,” I whisper into his soft fur. “Yes, I do, Mr. Chunk.”

Mittens has three favorite spots to sleep at night. The first is on Jaxon’s pillow, wrapped around his head. The second is nestled up against my boobs. But his favorite above all favorites? Snuggled between his dad and me, purring while we take turns showering him in kisses and pets.

I’m not just missing Jaxon these past few days, but Mittens, too, because one of us needs the comfort more than the other.

Footsteps tiptoe down the hall, and Jaxon’s voice graces my ears.

“Mittens,” he whisper-yells. “Pss-pss-pss! Come here, handsome chunk.” I hear the unmistakable pat of his hands against his thighs. “Pss-pss-pss! Come on. I’ll let you into Mommy’s room. Go give her some snug—” Jaxon stops at the edge of the kitchen, his face paling as he stares at me. I’m certainly staring back, heart pattering and mouth agape, because did he just call me Mittens’s mommy? “Oh. Hey.” He rubs the back of his neck, and it’s nearly impossible to keep my eyes on his face instead of his cock, because through all of this, he’s still not covering himself up first thing in the morning. Some things never change. “I thought you were still sleeping. Your door is closed.”

I stroke Mittens’s cheek, keeping my eyes on Jaxon as I murmur, “Did you hear that, buddy? Daddy called me Mommy. You’ll never get rid of me now. I have a child to look after.”

Red heat rushes up Jaxon’s neck, pooling in his cheeks. Turning around, I hide my smile as I shift Mittens to one arm, fill two bowls with equal portions of Trix and Lucky Charms, and top them off with milk.

“We always knew I was your real mama, huh, buddy? We let Daddy take his time coming around to certain concepts, that’s all.” Mittens bops his forehead against mine. “Yes, we do.”

I place him at his mat, dumping his breakfast in his bowl while Jaxon fills his water dish and avoids my gaze. We lean over at the same time, nearly bumping heads when we set the dishes down.

I flash him a charming grin. “Hi.”

Another adorable flush of his cheeks, and his gaze dips to my mouth, throat bobbing. His eyes flick back to mine, widening, and he snaps upright. I follow suit, much slower, sliding one cereal bowl over to him and taking the other for myself, leaning against the counter as I shovel it into my mouth.

He looks at the cereal in his hands. “Thank you.”

“Your cock looks great today. No scratch marks. Mittens is taking it easy on you, huh?”

Jaxon chokes on his cereal, and it’s about as close to a laugh as I’ve heard from him since Nashville, so I’ll take it.

“Are you excited for your first game back tomorrow? Google says it’s your first time being in the final round of the playoffs.” I polish off my cereal, tipping the milk back as I watch him try to figure out how long I’m going to keep talking to him like nothing’s wrong. The answer is forever, or until he shuts me up with a kiss, whichever comes first. But fuck me, I’m cracking this man wide open before he steps on the ice tomorrow.

The boys managed to win three consecutive games against Nashville, taking the third round, becoming the Western Conference champs, while Jaxon watched from above in a suite with the GM. Tomorrow, they begin the final round of the playoffs, and I’ll be damned if I’m letting Jaxon step on that ice for his first game back without giving him an I’m proud of you kiss first.

“Gran said she’s got the whole neighborhood coming over to watch you play. She’s not sure she has enough space in the living room.”

He halts, his hand and spoon frozen in midair as his shocked gaze slowly rises to mine. “You talked to Gran? Without me?”

“Every night. She calls after she gets off the phone with you to make sure you really are doing okay, because she suspects you’re lying to her. We do the crossword together, and she gives me my daily Jaxon fix by entertaining me with stories from when you were a kid, like that time you got your head stuck between the spindles on the staircase.”

“I was five,” he mutters.

“Eight. She promises she has a picture.” Tugging the candy bowl on the counter toward me—the one that was mysteriously refilled yesterday and set next to the brand-new bouquet of pink tulips that also mysteriously appeared yesterday—I pop the tip of a Sour Key in my mouth. “She’s going to show me when we go out there to visit this summer. Says she’s got a whole whack of pictures I’ll wanna see.”

Jaxon’s mouth opens. His mouth closes. Opens again. Closes. Opens. “I . . . I . . .” There it goes, closing once more. He shakes his head, shoving his bowl in the dishwasher. “I have to get dressed for my team meeting,” he calls over his shoulder, speed walking down the hall, shutting his door behind him.

I look at Mittens as he licks his paw at my feet. “One thing about me, Mitts? I’m gonna smother you with love until you have no choice but to accept that it exists, and that it’s real.” Mittens meows his agreement, tossing himself down on his back, belly up as he rolls around. I join him on the floor, rubbing his belly like the good cat mom I was born to be. “That’s exactly what we’re gonna do, buddy. We’re gonna peel back those layers on our favorite onion boy one by one, and we’re gonna love every one of them, aren’t we? Yes, we are, marshmallow. Yes, we are!”

There are those footsteps again. They slow, stopping a few feet away, and I look up when a throat clears.

Jaxon looms above us, looking rightfully confused and a little uneasy, dressed in a pair of dark blue shorts and a gray T-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders and trim waist in a mouth-watering kind of way, Vipers Hockey on both of them. He takes in me and his cat, sprawled out on the kitchen floor, then sinks his fingers in his light brown waves before tucking them beneath his backward baseball cap, another sight that has me resisting the urge to bite my knuckles.

“Um . . . what are you doing?”

“Snuggling with my son.”

Oh my God. Is that a—oh my God, it is. The corner of his lip is twitching. He’s trying not to smile.

Hold on to your tits, Lennon. Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react.

Jaxon wipes his hand over his mouth, taking that tiny quirk with it. “Um, so, I’m gonna head out for the team meeting.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.”

His eyes search mine, looking for any hint of duplicity. I wonder how much it hurts, constantly wondering when someone is going to leave. It guts me every time he looks at me like this, questions the truth behind three words as simple as I’ll be here or I’m not leaving; I can’t even imagine how much it kills him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but a knock on the door cuts him off. He frowns, heading to the front hall, I assume, since I can’t see him from my spot on the floor.

The door opens, and two seconds later it slams closed.

“Who—” Another knock cuts me off as Jaxon opens the door again.

“Has no one ever slammed a door in your face before?” Jaxon drawls, the words slow and arrogant, but the anger laced through them is unmistakable. “I find it hard to believe I’m your first, but just in case it wasn’t clear, you’re not welcome here.”

I shoot up to sitting, clutching Mittens to my chest as I wait to hear our guest’s response.

“Where’s Lennon?”

My heart stops, falling to a pit in my stomach at the voice I haven’t heard in over three months, one I’d gladly never hear again.

“None of your fucking business,” Jaxon spits out.

“Do you speak for her?”

Jaxon barks out a laugh, and I scramble to my knees, then my feet, because he can’t get in a fight today. He needs to protect his head, and he needs to play tomorrow. The person standing in the doorway isn’t worthy of taking any of that from him.

Arrogant blue eyes come to mine, and a pigheaded, shit-eating smirk pulls in a set of dimples in his fair, freckled cheeks.

“Hi, angel,” my ex-fiancé murmurs.

Jaxon crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Honey, this piece of shit is at the wrong apartment. I’m gonna see him out real quick.”

“I’m not at the wrong apartment.” Ryne’s gaze moves down me. Before it can come back up, Jaxon steps between us.

“You must be. Because I know you didn’t just call her angel.”

Ryne’s eyes flick to Jaxon, lighting with challenge as he tilts his head. “Have you had fun playing house with my wife?”

Jaxon laughs. Dark and low, a threatening sound that sends a shiver of excitement scattering down my spine. “You wanna get this one, honey? Don’t wanna step on your toes, but I’m happy to handle this.”

“Nope, I got it.” I cross my arms over my chest as Jaxon steps aside, making space for me. He pulls an apple from the basket on the kitchen island, leaning against the wall as he chews it. “What are you doing here, Ryne?”

“I’m taking you home, Lenny,” the man says like it’s the simplest thing in the world, as simple as his thoughts, or the way he wielded the pencil dick hanging between his legs. “It’s been nearly six months. Don’t you think this little temper tantrum has been going on long enough?”

“Definitely.” I nod. “Go on.”

“I’ve let you have your fun, fuck around with this . . . this . . .”

“His name is Jaxon.”

“I know his name. How do you think I found his apartment? Plenty of scorned women online who love to talk about having spent the night here with him.” Ryne grimaces. “He’s been taking advantage of you, angel. You were hurt and confused, lost, and he took advantage of that.”

Jaxon buries his guffaw behind the aggressive crunch of his apple.

“You abandoned your family. Ran away and left them heartbroken over your selfish decision. You abandoned me.”

“Is that all?”

He nods, leveling me with a look that’s surely meant to be some sort of mix of endearing and empathetic. Instead, it’s remarkably reminiscent of Ben Stiller’s Blue Steel look in Zoolander. Come to think of it, he’s just as short. “It’s time to come home, Lenny. Let’s put this behind us and move on. Do you have your ring?”

“I sold it.” Twelve hours later, Second Chance Home received an anonymous donation of twenty-five thousand dollars.

“You—” He clenches his jaw. “Okay. That’s okay. Just use your imagination for me, then, all right, angel?”

“Huh?”

He pulls a black velvet box from his back pocket—the same box my engagement ring sat in the night he proposed—and sinks to one knee. He opens the empty box and flashes me his famous grin. “Lennon, will you⁠—”

“No! Are you for fucking real, Ryne? Get up!” I scrub my hands over my face as Ryne scrambles to his feet and Jaxon chokes on his apple behind me. “Jesus Christ, what are you thinking?”

“I love you. I’ve wasted too many years to let you throw this all away over a little blow job.”

“Wow, well, when you put it like that.”

His eyes light, and he starts sinking back to his knee.

“Get up!” I shout, and teensy footsteps thunder across the floor. Before I can stop him, Mittens hisses, launching himself at Ryne’s thigh. His penis is simply too small to use for batting practice.

“Ow!” Ryne howls, clutching his thigh, and Jaxon’s choking on his apple again as Mittens continues to spit hisses at the man I nearly married. “Fuck! What is that, some sort of demon cat?”

“Yes.” I scoop up my sweet angel kitten, press a good boy against his ear, and then pass him back to Jaxon. “All right, let’s start from the beginning. Where were we?” I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth as I recount everything Ryne’s said in the last two minutes. “Ah, right. You asked if I agreed that this little temper tantrum has been going on long enough. Quite frankly, I do. It’s been nearly six months, Ryne, as you pointed out. You simply need to get over it and stop acting like an entitled brat. I know your grandmother told you the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t.”

His jaw hangs, and I’m really beginning to worry about all the choking Jaxon’s doing back there. Which brings me to point number two.

“I was hurt, confused, and lost when I came to Vancouver; you’re right about that. But Jaxon didn’t take advantage of me. In fact, if anyone used anyone at first, it was me. I wanted to forget you, and I wanted to know what it felt like to feel good for once in my life. Jaxon was the perfect man for the job. But I never could’ve suspected that he’d also help heal the hurt. Clear the confusion. That he’d help me find myself. I was hurt, confused, and lost when I met Jaxon. And now I’m none of those things.”

Jaxon’s coughing dies, and he grows quiet behind me.

“Abandonment is a big, serious word, Ryne. I don’t like it. Because you’re right, it is selfish. And yes, I was being selfish when I left. But I didn’t abandon anyone. I left, after talking with my family, because staying wasn’t a choice that served me. I was selfish, because for once in my life I had to be in order to give myself the love I deserved. Because I deserved better than what you gave me. I deserved loyalty and communication. I deserved support for my dreams and someone who showed up for me when they promised they would. I deserved love, Ryne, and I deserved better.”

My fists shake at my sides, my chest heaving and pulling taut as I glare at the speechless man before me. The one who clearly expected me to roll over for him, because I’d done it so many times before. I failed myself for so many years, put myself last. Leaving Ryne was the first time I put myself first. It was the first time I told myself what I wanted mattered, and believed it. It was the first time I showed up for myself, but it wasn’t the last. Because I’ve spent the last five and a half months showing up for myself every damn day, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing it too.

Because I fucking deserve it.

A sudden, familiar warmth touches my back, and my shoulders fall away from my ears. My fists loosen, fingers uncurling. My chest falls, and a heavy breath leaves my lungs.

“You don’t get to show up here after all the ways you failed her and act like you deserve any place in her life,” Jaxon tells him, the quiet words firm and final. “You had one job in your relationship, and it was to love her. You failed. You failed to respect her, to listen to her, to root for her. You failed to be her friend, and you failed to be her partner. Day after day, you fucking failed her. And you don’t get to show up here now and pretend like you deserve even the consideration of a second chance.”

Another step, and Jaxon is beside me, unshakable as he defends my worth the way I wish he’d defend his own. The way I’ll always defend it for him. Because that’s what a partner does, isn’t it? Reminds you you’re worth it on the days you feel like you aren’t.

“Get out,” Jaxon says. “You’re not welcome here.”

Ryne’s eyes bounce frantically between Jaxon and me. “Lenny Bean, are you⁠—”

“Ah-ah.” Jaxon holds up a hand. “She said everything she wanted to say to you. You’re talking to me now.” He steps in front of me, and I bite back my triumphant smile at the way Ryne shrinks, eyes wide as he backs himself into the hallway. “I’m trying really hard not to fight anymore. Lennon doesn’t like it, and I don’t want to scare her. I think she’d forgive me, though, if yours was the next face my fist met.”

Oh, fuck. My coochie’s awake.

“I have no patience for people like you,” he continues, still stalking toward him. “People who think they’re free to do whatever they want, and that the people they hurt along the way are just casualties. People who think there are no consequences for their actions. You hurt her. Long before you stuck your pencil dick somewhere else. You took away her passions, her voice. You deprived her of all the little things that would have made her feel special. Jesus, how hard is it to get her some pink fucking tulips once in a while to let her know you see her, that you appreciate her?” Jaxon shakes his head. “She deserves someone who does things just to make her smile. She deserves better, and you had the chance to give it to her. You chose not to.”

He grips the edge of the door, filling the open space, and Mittens bursts through his legs and out into the hall, hissing and wielding his claws like weapons. Ryne tumbles backward, and Jaxon chuckles as Mittens makes his way back inside.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, and right before he slams the door in Ryne’s face, he tells him, “Goodbye.” With his back to me, he hangs his head. “You okay, honey?”

“Mhmm. Yup.” Super turned on, but I’ll keep that to myself. I touch his wrist, bringing his eyes to mine. “Thank you.”

“Nah, that was all you, tidbit. You know your worth, and you fed it to him.”

“I thought I knew my worth, but you cemented it.”

His gaze falls, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You give me too much credit.”

“I give you exactly as much credit as you deserve, Jaxon.” Wringing my hands, I take a deep breath and step toward him. “I⁠—”

—frown when a knock on the door cuts me off for the third time in the last ten minutes.

Jaxon’s face twists with surprise, then anger. “I can’t believe that motherfucking piece of sh—oh. Garrett. What are you, uh . . . what are you doing here?”

“Thought we could ride together to the arena.” Garrett flashes an easy, soft smile, pressing a drink into Jaxon’s hand. “Chocolate Java Mint Frappuccino. Your favorite summer drink.” He winks at me, handing me something beautiful and pink while Jaxon short-circuits over the drink in his hand. “Pink Drink with oat milk for our nut-free queen.”

“My angel,” I murmur, wrapping Garrett in a hug. “Wasn’t that thoughtful of Garrett, Jaxon?”

“Yeah, that was . . . thanks. Thank you.” He swallows, looking between us. “Uh, you coulda texted first.”

Garrett nods. “Coulda. Did, actually. Three times. Called too. Twice. Your phone broken, or you just ignoring me?”

Jaxon’s cheeks burn bright red.

I grin, clutching my drink to my chest. “Just a couple of besties, doing bestie things.” I shoo them out the door. “Well, you two better get going. Coach will wonder where you are.”

“Or Carter,” Garrett grumbles. “He panics when anyone’s late for anything.” His phone pings, and he sighs at the screen. “There he is now. Meeting’s in ten, are you okay? Followed by three question marks.”

Jaxon pulls out his phone. The corner of his mouth hooks. “I got five.”

“We better get going.” Garrett salutes me. “Catch up tomorrow morning, Len?”

I salute him back. “Have fun.”

Jaxon pauses, glancing at me as Garrett heads for the elevator. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Positive.”

He watches me for a moment before nodding, turning to follow Garrett.

“Hey, Jaxon?” I reach out, catching his hand. “I’ll be here.”

He looks down at the connection, the way my fingers twine through his. And before he walks away, he squeezes.

I wait for the elevator to close before I head back inside, locking the door behind me. Mittens follows along as I take my Pink Drink out to the balcony, pressing his face to the glass panel so he can watch the cars below.

“What should we do today, Mitts? Wanna go for a walk? Maybe get an ice cream cone?” I sip my drink as the breeze dances through my curls. “We could go down by the water, see if you can catch any fish.”

He meows like he likes the sound of that.

“Okay, it’s settled. We’ll get an ice cream and walk down to the water.” My phone rings and I fish it out of my shorts, my brows jumping at the name on the screen. “Hello?” I answer cautiously.

“Hey, Lennon,” my landlord greets me happily. “Got some good news for you. Your apartment is finally ready.”

My heart plummets to my stomach.

“You can move back in today.”