Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

I can’t remember a time anyone has looked at me the way Rosie does.

Courtney did, once upon a time, but it’s almost impossible to look back on our early years together and imagine that it was ever real, even back when we were seventeen and she looked at me like I hung the stars.

But with Rosie…I’m not the stars, lighting bits of her sky. I’m the rising sun on the clearest day, touching every inch of her world, lighting the bleakest, darkest parts where she hasn’t seen light in far too long. She looks at me like I’m everything good and bright. She looks at me like she’s…grateful. Grateful to be here with me. Grateful for the patience, for the understanding, for every kindness and every smile.

It’s nearly painful how heavy the weight of her stare is.

Because I know, even on our best days, the way Courtney used to look at me could never compare, and it makes me feel a little…empty. It feels like wasted years and dashed dreams. Like bitter winters that outstayed their welcome, a spring that took far too long to come.

It’s painful because for everything Rosie’s given me, no matter how small or how hesitantly, I haven’t done her the same. She gets the pieces that come easily, the ones that don’t hurt, and I keep all the others in my fist, grasping them tight against my chest, afraid of what she’ll do with them.

And that’s the thing. When I met Courtney, I had everything I dreamed of. An incredible family who loved me endlessly, a promising career as a goalie in the NHL on the horizon. I was happy and carefree. Courtney had my bright spots, and they weren’t enough. I let her steal everything good and bright and happy, one tiny handful at a time. My confidence, my trust, my faith in happy endings.

I don’t think it’s wrong to make someone your whole world, but I know the one time I’ve done it, it was my greatest mistake.

I know now that Courtney wasn’t the world meant for me, but that doesn’t make it easier to consider starting a new one with someone else, someone who has the power to break you all over again. I want to jump in headfirst. Fuck, I tell myself I’m already doing it, that I’ve never fallen so fast, started dreaming of a future with someone I barely know. But the reality is like rope tied around my ankles, letting me shuffle down the road I want to go, but each small step burns into my skin, urging me to slow down, to just…wait. Just in case.

I survived the first time, but will I survive a second?

The look in Rosie’s eyes as she watches me splash around the pool with her son in my arms tells me there’s nothing to survive. That she won’t be the one to break me. The fissures in my chest whisper…but what if?

Connor wiggles in my grasp, reaching toward the steps. I know exactly where this is going; we’ve been doing it for the last forty minutes. I swim us to the edge and he scrambles up the steps. He rounds the patio on quick feet, stopping to take Bear’s face in his little hands. “Hi, big dog,” he says before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Mama,” Connor coos, patting her knee. “Mama!”

“I’m watching, baby. Are you going to jump to Adam?”

“Dada!”

I stifle a laugh at the horror painting Rosie’s face, even though Connor’s called me this about five hundred times today.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “Google says it’s a phase.”

I only wink, then reach toward Connor as he crouches down. “Ready to jump, little trouble?”

“Tubble,” he repeats with a toothy grin. Tiny hands reach toward me, and when he launches himself off the patio and into my arms, he shrieks, “Daaa-daaa !”

I twirl him in the air before dunking his bottom half while he squeals with delight. He clings to my chest, little legs wrapping around me as he giggles against my neck, and Rosie can’t take her eyes off us.

“Should we splash Mama?” I wade closer to Rosie, hiding my smile. “What do you think, buddy? Does Mama need to get a little wet?”

She points a finger at me. “Don’t you dare. I’ve been wet, now I’m dry.” She curls her daisy-painted toes into Bear’s fur. “Bear and I like it this way.”

“Mmm. Mama doesn’t like being wet.” The furious heat pooling in Rosie’s cheeks says she doesn’t miss the innuendo, but we don’t have time to dwell on it as I help Connor up the steps again. “Go give Mama a big hug. Squeeze all your love into her.”

Tiny feet tear across the patio, grabby hands reaching for his mom. She shrieks with laughter as he hurls his wet body into her lap, and I think they might be my favorite people in the world.

Water droplets cascade down my body, splattering on the concrete as I walk toward them. I grab a towel, watching Rosie’s eyes move over me on a slow, heated sweep, tongue running aimlessly across her bottom lip as I shake out my hair, her throat bobbing as I rub the towel across my stomach.

“I’m gonna start the barbecue and get dinner going.”

Rosie doesn’t blink, gaze roaming down, then up.

I nudge her chin with two knuckles, guiding her eyes to mine. “’Kay, pretty girl?”

“Hot,” she murmurs, then blinks rapidly, shaking her head. “Barbecue, I mean. It’s…hot. It’ll be hot. When you…start it.” She nods. “Yes.”

I drop my smile to her forehead, wink at Connor, and head inside. My phone’s buzzing on my kitchen counter, my favorite group of Puck Sluts checking in.

CARTER

did the car seat work ok?

GARRETT

What car seat?

CARTER

im talking 2 adam, not u.

GARRETT

Fine, I’ll go back to what I was doing before. Your sister.

CARTER

u motherfucker

EMMETT

Believe the correct term is sisterfucker, bud.

JAXON

*crying laughing emoji* Sisterfucker. Get it? Cuz he’s fucking ur sister.

CARTER

I fucking hate u all. i’m only talking to adam from now on.

did the car seat work for ur girlfriend???

GARRETT

…How old is Rosie?

EMMETT

Wait wait wait…*monocle emoji*

CARTER

it’s not for rosie, u turds.

GARRETT

I thought you weren’t talking to us.

JAXON

*thinking emoji*

CARTER

…

JAXON

*surprised emoji* No. No no no no.

CARTER

yes.

JAXON

*melting emoji* Adam, buddy. Tell me she doesn’t have a kid.

GARRETT

Jennie awww’d so long I stopped counting.

EMMETT

Cara says ‘Stepdaddy Adam??? Man just went from a 10/10 to a solid 20.’

JAXON

ADAM. Tell me it isn’t so.

ME

His name is Connor, he’s fifteen months old, and he’s cute as fuck.

JAXON

NOOOOO. Daddy Adam?! RIP.

EMMETT

Ayooo! That’s awesome, bud. Happy for you.

CARTER

keep him away from my baby cuz no boys til she’s 40.

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or ever.

no girls either.

I’m not going to attempt to touch on the fact that one day Ireland will grow up and be her own person and not ever listen to her dad again, because it’s a useless conversation. Carter’s go-to when anyone tries to reason with him involves slapping his hands over his ears and singing I’m not listening, I’m not listening .

In fact, Ireland may grow up before he does.

My phone rings, and I half expect it to be Jaxon. Commitment scares him, and the thought of a toddler probably has him spiraling. If anyone’s going to try to talk me out of this relationship, it’ll be him.

But my mom’s face smiles up at me from my screen, and I answer the video request as I shuffle out of earshot of the patio door, to the living room window, where I can see Rosie, Connor, and Bear playing in the grass with the sprinkler.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Care to tell me why Garrett told me you have a girlfriend before you did?”

“I don’t—what—when were you—” I scrub my eyes and sigh. “That little shit.”

“Don’t blame my angel.” Garrett is definitely her favorite of my friends, which is why she sends him a monthly box of specialty snacks from the States that you can’t get here in Canada. “He called to thank me for his snacks and asked if I was excited to meet Rosie. I said, ‘Rosie who?’ and he said, ‘Oh, shit.’ Then Jennie started cackling in the background and chanting, ‘You fucked up, you fucked up.’”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I mumble. “I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

“Well, that’s understandable.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, of course.”

There’s a snicker in the background, and then my dad’s amused face pops over Mom’s shoulder. “If someone publicly rated my kissing a three out of five, I’d be hesitant to kiss anyone ever again too.”

They howl with laughter, and the fuckers even high-five. “Nailed it, Deac!”

I smile as Connor bounds after Bear, and Rosie after Connor, the three of them soaked to the bone as they leap through the spraying water.

“Oh my God,” Mom murmurs. “He’s in love.”

“I am not.” I might be. Well on the way, at the least. “Look, I gotta go. She’s here right now, and I’m supposed to be starting the barb—”

“She’s there? Right now? Introduce us!”

“Absolutely not.”

Her dark brows pull way down. “Deacon, make your son introduce us.”

Dad rips open a Fruit Roll-Up, and now I want one, so I grab one too. “Adam, listen to your mother so I don’t have to, blah blah blah, happy wife, happy life.”

I stifle a laugh at the look she gives him, and when Connor squeals with laughter, my mom’s jaw dangles, and I pause, my rainbow treat hanging in front of my open mouth.

“Is that a…a baby?”

I stuff my Fruit Roll-Up in my mouth. “Toddler, technically. Connor is fifteen months old.”

She turns to look at my dad, sniffling. “Deacon, we’re gonna be grandparents.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I knew this would happen. “I just told you I haven’t even kissed her!”

“Well, what are you waiting for? And make it good, so she wants to keep you! None of that half-assed, three out of five bullshit!” She snickers at the look of pure exhaustion on my face. “Can you tell us a little bit about her? Just quick. Then we’ll hang up and leave you alone. Promise.”

Turning away from the window with a sigh, I pace the living room, staring at my feet, rubbing my neck. “She’s…she’s really beautiful. Not just on the outside but the inside too. She’s in vet school, and she works at one of the animal shelters here. She’s got such a kind heart, and she’s the best mom.” I shrug. “She makes me feel like things aren’t so heavy.”

Mom watches me with a quiet, wobbly smile, and Dad gives me two thumbs up behind her, another Fruit Roll-Up in his mouth. I register the soft drip, drip, drip of water only a moment before a tiny voice whispers, “Dada,” from behind me.

I spin around, eyes locking with Rosie’s wide ones from where she stands halfway inside my patio door, Connor bundled in a towel in her arms, Bear panting at her side.

“Okay, Mom, I have to go,” I sorta scream.

“Did he just call you da—”

“Bye !” It takes me seventeen thousand tries to hit hang up. I shove one hand through my hair and gesture over my shoulder, forgetting about my phone in my hand. It soars through the air and lands with a clatter somewhere behind me. “That was my—my friend was just—I wasn’t talking about—that was…” I choose to stop—it seems like the safest bet—and settle for anxious chuckling instead.

“Was that your mom?”

“Who, that?” I wave a hand through the air. “No.”

“You said, ‘Okay, Mom, I have to go.’”

“Hmmm. Yeah, I see how that could be construed. Definitely.”

The corner of Rosie’s mouth hitches. “Okay, well, we’ll go get changed.”

“Great. Awesome. Yeah, and I’ll go start the barbecue.”

She pauses at my side, smelling like coconut and lime, sunshine, hope, and everything good and right. “You make me feel like things aren’t quite so heavy, too, Adam. Just in case you were wondering.”

“How the hell did you get mashed potatoes in your eyebrow, bud,” I mutter, scrubbing Connor’s face with a warm washcloth. He turns away, sending a spray of water up around us when he splashes in the tub. “Jesus Christ, it’s in your ear. Rosie! It’s in his ear!”

Rosie giggles, dropping to her knees beside me as I scoop out his ear potatoes. “Connor has a knack for getting his dinner in every single crevice. Check his elbow.”

I take his small hand in mine and lift his arm. Sure enough, right there in the crease of his elbow, is a clump of potatoes. I shake my head, wiping him down, and the little monkey tries to eat the potatoes out of my hand. “Big trouble and little trouble. Perfect names for you and Mama.”

Rosie flicks water at me. “I think it’s you who’s the troublemaker.”

I want to start all sorts of trouble with Rosie, but I’m trying to be on my very best behavior. It’s hard, because the sun’s on its way down, the air has cooled, and she’s currently drowning in one of my T-shirts and a pair of my sweatpants.

Something about a pretty girl in your clothes, wrapped up in your smell…it never gets old.

Bear pushes between us, setting his chin on the edge of the tub. Connor rests his forehead against Bear’s as he whispers, “Hi, big dog,” and everything feels exactly right with these three beside me.

“I’m really happy you can stay,” I say to Rosie as she changes Connor into his pajamas, lays him down in the playpen.

“I wasn’t expecting him to do so well for his nap here. He sleeps in my room at home, and we always make it back for naps.” She pushes his hair back, smiling down at his tired eyes. “I guess I don’t give him enough credit.”

“I don’t think that’s it. You have your routine, and it’s not always easy to stray outside of our routines.” I nudge her shoulder with mine. “It’s about giving up that little bit of control, right?”

“Which I have a hard time doing,” she admits.

“But you’re doing great.”

Her smile is soft and grateful. “Thank you for saying that, Adam.”

“Mama.” Connor pats around the playpen. “Cat?”

“Oh shoot. That’s right.” She grabs her bag off the bed and roots around before pulling out a fluffy, orange stuffed cat. “He doesn’t do bedtime without Cat.”

Connor shuffles to his feet, rubbing his eyes with his fists, Cat tucked under his arm. “Mama, kiss?”

Rosie takes his face in his hand, pressing a kiss to his forehead, both cheeks, and finally his lips. “Good night, baby. Mama loves you.”

Connor reaches for me. “Dada, kiss?”

I plant a loud smooch on his forehead. “Good night, little trouble.”

With Rosie’s hand in mine, I guide her out of the room, turning off the light and quietly shutting the door. She’s all nerves right now, fidgety fingers and bouncing eyes, the golden glow of the setting sun streaming through the windows, illuminating the freckles on her nose.

“I’m just gonna call my roommate for advice,” she blurts, then smacks her forehead. “To tell him I’ll be home later, I mean.”

“Meet me out back when you’re ready.” I kiss her cheek. “I hope he gives good advice.”

There’s a weird zap of electricity running through me as I get the yard set up, Bear trailing my heels as I go. I’m nervous, but that Rosie is nervous, too, is comforting. Despite my desperate yearning for a solid foundation, a meaningful connection, and a life to share with someone, I’ve felt slightly off-kilter since I stumbled into Rosie those weeks ago. I know exactly where I want to take things, but in all my attempts to move forward over the last year, I haven’t ever actually moved in that direction. Each step forward has ended with two backward. Each date ending in disaster, every time my face has been splashed on some social media outlet next to a woman’s I barely knew, I’ve retreated further into the shadows, clung tighter to every piece of me.

I want to give those pieces to Rosie. I want to open my clenched fists, show her the pieces with shaky hands, and ask her to take me anyway, to like me for me.

For the first time in my life, I don’t want to be Adam Lockwood, Vancouver Viper, all-star goalie. I just want to be…

I just want to fucking be . I want to exist exactly as I am. I want to be a loyal friend, a loving son. I want to be dependable and kind and generous because I like to be, not because I have to be. I want to be a partner, someone’s best friend, the steady hand on their back when they need to be held up, the fingers laced through theirs to walk through life together.

I want to be Adam.

And like it always has, hockey will only get in the way of that.

The patio door opens, sending my heart into a tailspin, pattering against my sternum like heavy rain beating down on a tin roof. My fingers curl into my palms as I take a breath, hoping to slow the racing beat and every erratic thought in my head, and I turn around.

Rosie’s a vision, a flawless beauty bathed in the dusky gold glow of twilight, scattered fragments of lavender and peach reflecting off the water, the twinkly lights illuminating the wonder in her gaze as it skates around the yard, taking it all in.

She takes a hesitant step forward, then another, one hand at her throat, the other clutching the hem of my T-shirt she wears. “Adam, this is gorgeous.”

“Yeah? I, uh…” I rush to the gazebo, scooping up the flowers I’d had sitting in my dining room all day. I offer them to Rosie with a shaky hand. “I got you more peonies. I hope that’s okay.”

“Thank you.” She takes them with a smile and looks at the inflatable mattress set on the grass, topped with pillows and blankets. “And that?”

“I thought, if you wanted to, we could, um…”

She threads her fingers through mine and squeezes, gentle pressure that settles my heartbeat. I try again.

“I’d like to watch the sunset with you while we lie together.”

“I’d really like that.”

My heartbeat skips. “Yeah?”

She nods, pulling me toward the mattress, holding my hand as she sinks down to it, pulling me after her. She curls onto her side, cheek resting on a pillow as she gazes at me while I pull a blanket over us.

“This has been such a perfect day, Adam. I’m so glad we didn’t need to cancel.”

“Connor is always welcome here. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to cancel because you’re with him. I like hanging out with him.”

Her smile is equal parts grateful and sad, so I give her hand a squeeze.

“Everything okay?”

“It’s nice to hear, is all.”

I frown. “That I like spending time with Connor?”

She nods. “Brandon, his dad…well, that’s the reason I picked him up early today. Or I think so, at least. Kids weren’t part of the plan. We weren’t that serious, and he ran. He came back, but when Connor was a few months old he said he didn’t want to do it anymore, that he wasn’t built for it. Disappeared for a while again, came back again.” Her eyes coast to my collarbone as I rub my thumb along hers. “It’s so mentally taxing. You’re either all in or you’re not, you know? Connor deserves to feel loved and wanted all the time. I want to protect him from the people who can’t offer him consistency.”

“I think it’s natural as a parent to want to protect your kids from everything that could hurt them.”

“Then how come his dad is the one inflicting the hurt sometimes?” She looks away, her nose wrinkling as she worries her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s just…Connor was an accident, yes, but he wasn’t a mistake. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. It hurts that, sometimes, it feels like I’m the only one of us who thinks so.”

“That’s a heavy weight to carry, Rosie. I hope one day he realizes how lucky he is to have not only Connor but you, too, for bringing Connor into his life.”

I stroke my hand through her hair, down her back, as she snuggles closer, nudging her leg between mine. She’s given me so much today, pieces of herself she’s handed over willingly while I hold back, and I want to give her something. The obvious answer screams at me from inside my head, but I shake the thought away, burying the guilt as I drag out another day without telling her what my job really is, who I am to everyone but her.

“Can I tell you something?”

She shifts back at my tone, giving me her full attention. “Of course.”

“I never knew my birth mom. I only know that she was young when she had me, and she struggled with addiction. She got clean while pregnant but relapsed when I was only a few days old. She left me with my grandma and never came back.” I run the tip of my finger down Rosie’s arm, an anchor to reality, my steady in this unstable moment. “I don’t remember my grandma, but I know she loved me very much. In every picture I have, we look so happy together. She had a stroke when I was four. My only memory is this vivid one at her funeral, where this woman with dark curls and blue eyes stared at me from the doorway, and instead of coming in, she turned around and left.”

Rosie threads her fingers through mine, softly running her thumb across the back of my hand in a gentle way that lets me know she’s here, she’s listening.

“The thing is, I’ve never been mad at her. I don’t think she could give me the life or love every child deserves, and she knew that. She thought there was somebody better out there for me, and in leaving, she gave that to me. A chance at something better.” I wipe the single tear dripping from Rosie’s eye as she cups my cheek. “When you told me about your parents earlier, how the thought of saying good-bye tears you apart, I wanted to take your hand and say you weren’t alone, because I’d also lost people. But I haven’t felt a loss as deep as yours. Mine is different. People chose to walk away because we weren’t meant for each other. They weren’t meant for me, and there’s a certain peace in knowing that.”

“That doesn’t make your loss any less valid,” Rosie says firmly. “Please don’t undermine anything you’ve gone through because of me.”

“I’m not. The truth is, I got so lucky, and I know it. There’s no pain in my past, not in my memories, at least. But when you talked to me…I almost wanted there to be. I didn’t want you to be alone in feeling yours.”

There’s a softness in Rosie’s gaze, an understanding that pulls us closer, a string knotting. “I don’t need you to take on my pain, Adam. I just need you to sit with me while I feel it. That’s enough for me.” She brushes a curl off my forehead. “Does that make sense?”

“I think so.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you for sharing your world with me.”

Rosie tucks in closer, the soft inches of her pressed against me bringing me a comfort I didn’t know I needed as the remaining fragments of sunlight disappear behind the trees, stars beginning to burst against the dark skyline.

“You can’t see the stars with your face buried in there, pretty girl.”

She props her chin on my chest, grinning up at me. “I like this view best.”

I chuckle, running a thumb over the dimple in her chin. “You’re the cutest ever.”

Rosie flushes, averting her gaze. I nudge her chin, guiding her eyes back to mine.

“I think it’s adorable when you get shy. Your whole body heats, you start nibbling on your lip, and your freckles try to hide beneath those rosy cheeks.” The pad of my thumb drags across her lower lip. “You’re beautiful, Rosie, and I really like being here with you.”

“I really like being here with you too,” she breathes. “Are you gonna kiss me now?” Her eyes snap wide and she clamps her mouth shut. “Holy fork—I didn’t—no, that was supposed to be—I—”

I swallow her words with my mouth on hers, and, fuck , it’s everything I could have ever hoped for. It’s soft and gentle, the way she melts against me, the noises she makes in the back of her throat. It’s everything sweet with a hint of a bite, the tang of grapefruit clinging to her lips, the frantic press of her fingertips on my shoulders, the shift of her curves against the hard lines of my body.

I sink my fingers into her hair, angling her head back. Rosie sighs, her lips parting, letting me in. Her tongue meets mine without hesitation as her hands coast over me, down my arms, my chest, clutching at my shirt as she pulls me closer, tosses her leg over my hip. My hand glides along her thigh, over her ass, gripping her waist as I hold her tight and move against her, sure that I’ve finally found paradise.

Rosie is bright cerulean skies and the heat of the summer sun kissing your cheeks. She’s toes in the sand and crystal clear water splashing at your feet. Rainbows made of flowers and swirls of colors blending together at sunset like a flawless painting. She’s escaping reality and living in pure bliss without the racing thoughts and the itch of too many bodies, too many eyes on you.

She’s my version of paradise.

I cup her face in my hand, sweeping a thumb across the apple of her cheekbone as I slow us down, taking one last moment to taste her, suck on her lower lip before I press my mouth to hers once, twice more.

Rosie’s erratic breath mingles with mine, color blooming in her cheeks. She presses two trembling fingers to her swollen lips. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“I…I meant to say that in my head. The kiss thing. And honestly, the wow too.”

“I like when you think out loud.”

“A lot of my thoughts are about you,” she admits.

I blow out a breath of relief and pull her into my chest. “Thank fuck, because all of mine are about you.”

“What’s eating you?”

“Hmm?”

My eyes lift to my rearview mirror, catching sight of Connor in the back. He’s passed out with his stuffie, and he didn’t stir longer than a minute when I lifted him out of the playpen and tucked him into the car seat. Rosie, however, is a different story.

“You’ve been gnawing on your lip for the last fifteen minutes,” I tell her, stopping out front of her apartment. I tug her bottom lip free from her teeth. “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want to sound…I’m nervous that I’ll sound…I don’t want you to think…”

“Rosie.”

Her shoulders deflate and she flashes me a guilty grin under the light of the streetlamp. “I really like you, Adam.”

“I really like you too.”

“But…”

“Oh fuck. Not a but.”

She snickers, giving me a shove. “I really like you, but I’m not looking for something casual. Honestly, I wasn’t looking at all. But now you’re here and I don’t want to bring my son into something that doesn’t have potential to be long term, to be real and serious and good.” She takes a breath, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I know I’m only twenty-four, but I want to share a life with someone. I want us to be special to someone. I want to build a family with someone, and I have no problem parting ways with someone who doesn’t want that too. Because if Connor is the only family I get in this life…he’s enough for me.” Dim eyes move over me, and I watch her fingers curl into her fists. “I know some people don’t like to talk about commitment, and maybe it’s soon. But I—”

For the second time tonight, I swallow her words, every single one of them. Her truths and her insecurities, the ones that align so perfectly with mine.

“I want that, Rosie.” I rest my forehead against hers. “All of it and more.”

“I’m scared,” she whispers. “Nobody has ever fit into my life. I don’t want to know what it feels like to lose that.”

“I like being here. I have no plans of leaving.” I look to the little boy in the backseat, the soft sound of his deep breathing, back to the enchanting woman in front of me. “You’re a package deal, Rosie. That doesn’t scare me. I’ll tell you as often as I need to until you believe it.”

Cautious eyes move between mine. “Promise?”

I hold my pinky out, and she grins, tucking hers around mine, pulling our hands to her chest and my mouth to hers.

“Swear it.”