“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her tone cross.

He pulled the t-shirt down, revealing the gash across his nose that continued to bleed. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d even care.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, because he was wrong.

He was so very wrong.

“We need to find you some ice, or your nose is going to be the size of Sacramento at your press conference in the morning,” she said offhandedly, trying to ignore the foreign feeling stirring inside her.

“Leila.” His voice was deep, insinuating everything he needed to say in only the tone. He’d shared something with her, and now he wanted something in return.

“What do you want me to say, Henrik? That I was disappointed? Bitter? None of that changes anything,” she snapped, suddenly defensive.

He was too close to the truth, leading her down a path that would only end in heartache again. It didn’t matter why he’d treated her that way, just that he did, and—

“You’re right,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “It doesn’t change anything, except for what happens now. We can be friends, Leila. All we have to do is be honest with each other.”

“What else do you have left to be honest about?” she huffed, trying to keep the focus off her for as long as possible.

He pointed at her, half smiling. “I can see your bra through your tank top, and it’s distracting the hell out of me right now.”

Her eyes dropped down, and she saw he was right. The outline of her pink bra was clearly visible through her thin white tank. She looked up at him and glared.

He wiped his face with the t-shirt again, his smile widening. “Your turn.”

She frowned. Everything was a joke to him.

“Come on, Leila. Please—”

She felt him touch her elbow, gently and briefly. He was being careful with her now, worried he might trigger the wrong reaction. It was sweet, and she hated him for it.

“I was disappointed,” she barked out, refusing to look at him. “I was bitter and angry, and any other word that led to me hating you so I could pretend like you ignoring me hadn’t hurt my feelings.” She waited a moment, before swirling around to face him. “Happy now?”

He stared at her for a long moment, her admission hanging in the air. Blood trickled down his cheek onto his chin, but he didn’t notice. “You really mean that?” he asked finally, his eyes wide.

“Yes,” she sighed, too exhausted to deny it.

His blue eyes stilled, focusing with a determination she’d never witnessed before. “If I had known you felt that way,” he assured her with conviction that made a flash of heat rush through her veins, “I would have told Austin he could kiss my ass.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes, because she didn’t know how else to respond that didn’t involve her embarrassing herself. “You would have broken your man code for me?”

He stood, still grimacing. “I already did, remember?”

She pursed her lips, recalling their conversation in the hotel room. “I apologize for putting you in that position. I should have never—”

He stepped toward her, dropping the shirt at his feet before cupping his hands around her face, forcing her to look directly at him. “Don’t say that,” he said slowly. “You can hate me for saying yes if you want. I can live with that. But please, don’t regret it.”

Her gaze dropped to the ice, her heart aching. “I don’t. I can’t.”

She stood there silently, shocked by her own admission. As much as she wanted to pretend nothing happened, she wouldn’t take it back even if she could.

“Come here.”

When she looked up, his hand was held out to her again, and this time she didn’t pause, or think it through, but merely reacted. She stepped to him, his hands draping her hips. She involuntarily leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his back. She took in a deep, slow breath, enjoying the warmth of having his arms around her.

“You’re still not ready to talk about it, are you?”

She paused, realizing her voice was lost. She’d admitted too much already. She wanted this, just this, for a little while longer. It was selfish, but the peace she felt was irresistible.

“It’s okay.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I can wait. Just promise me that you’ll come to me when you are ready, because I want to listen.”

She didn’t answer, but she returned his embrace. They stood there like that for a long time, just the two of them on the edge of the pond, forming a silent bond of friendship she never thought could exist.

Chapter 15

HENRIK’S MISFORTUNE

Henrik lay on his bed, his eyes closed as the throbbing pain radiating from his nose coursed through the rest of his body. It hurt. It hurt like hell. He’d never admit it to Leila, though. She sat beside him, holding a dishrag full of ice to his face, fretting. “It’s getting worse,” she said, her voice dripping with guilt.

She’d ditched her coat and snatched one of her brother’s shirts to cover her tank top. “It will be fine,” he offered, though he couldn’t pretend that lying there, having her fuss over him for the past hour, wasn’t enjoyable. She got the cutest wrinkle between her eyes every time she looked at him.

“It’s broken, Henrik. I broke your nose.”

Her voice was shaky at best. He hated that she blamed herself for an accident. “It’s not the first time it’s been broken,” he tried, giving her his best attempt at a smile under the circumstances. “Remember that playoff game my rookie year?”

She quirked a brow at him. “Who said I watched your games before now?”

He laughed, and a sharp pain shot through his face.

Damn it.

“Yes, I remember it,” she admitted, half laughing as she repositioned the ice. “However, there is a big difference between getting your nose busted by a goon for being an insufferable idiot, and this.”

“So, I wasn’t being an insufferable idiot tonight?”

“You’re always an insufferable idiot.” Her smile was sweet. Sincere. “But I’m not a goon. I feel horrible.”

He opened both his eyes and leaned up on his elbow. Slowly reaching up, he touched the tip of his fingers to hers. “Who told you that you weren’t a goon?”

She sent a hard punch straight into his ribcage, laughing. “Asshole.”

He laughed too, even though it made everything hurt worse. “If it means we can be friends, then you can break my face every day.”

She pushed him back on the bed, repositioning his head on the pillow. “We’ll see,” she conceded, eyeing his nose again. “It’s hard to tell you no when you look like Jabba the Hutt.”

He grinned, but it was worth it.

“What the hell happened?” a voice bellowed, vibrating the walls around them. Henrik looked around Leila to find Austin and Drew standing in the doorway, panic plaguing their faces. “We just got your text.”

He sat back up, offering them a full on view of the damage. Drew shook his head in disapproval. “Better question is what did you do to deserve that?”

“Leila,” Austin groaned, moving Drew to the side to rush over to the bed. “You broke my captain.”

“I didn’t break him,” she offered, frowning as she shuffled the ice in her hands. “Just his nose, most likely.”

Drew made a noise of disgust as he joined Austin at the side of the bed. “Again—what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Henrik complained, darting a quick glance at Austin. “It was an accident.”

“It’s true.” Leila gently urged him to lie back down, her hand guiding his head as if he might shatter any moment. “We were playing hockey on your uncle’s pond, and—”

“Wait.” Drew immediately stepped around Austin. “He took you to Gus’s pond?”

Henrik shot Drew a death glare. He’d accept a reprimand for stealing Leila away again when they were alone, but not in front of Austin. He didn’t need Austin prying into his intentions. “I wanted to get out of the city for a while,” he lied.