We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

Blind Pass: Chapter 9

RYAN

Rhodes kissed me.

Rhodes really kissed me.

And I kissed him back.

Like really kissed him back.

I knew what the people around us were waiting for, but I wasn’t expecting Rhodes to give in to their silent request.

I really wasn’t expecting him to slide his palm up my cheek and bring our lips together, nor was I ready for the charge that went through my body when our lips met. Even though it’s on video, I barely remember our kiss at the altar, but something tells me no matter how good it was, there’s no way it was as good as the kiss on the plane.

I don’t fly too often, but when I do, I have a secret superpower that I can usually be asleep before takeoff. Yesterday, that was not the case.

Try as I might, I couldn’t fall asleep with Rhodes sitting right next to me, especially not after he kissed me the way he did.

So, I pretended to sleep while I held Rhodes’ hand the whole flight.

As we left the airport, we didn’t talk about it, and we’re still not talking about it now as he drives me back to my apartment with that same damn scowl etched across his face, the air around us thick and full of unease.

It’s like we have no idea what to say to each other.

If you ask me, it’s ridiculous that I’m getting hung up on the fact that I kissed and held hands with my own husband, but here we are.

“I didn’t realize you live so close to the arena,” Rhodes says, breaking the silence. “The rent out here must be astronomical.”

He has no idea.

I have a tiny one-bedroom, one-bathroom studio apartment, and I bet I pay at least half of what his mortgage payment is, plus I make a whole lot less than he does.

It used to not be so bad when I didn’t have my grandmother’s assisted living care to pay for, but now living here does make things pretty tight.

I’ve tried looking for a new place over the years, but nothing beats how close this is to my (former) job downtown and public transportation. If I were to move, I’d have to get a car, which would be a whole other expense to factor in, and I wouldn’t be saving any money.

“This is me up here.”

I point to an empty spot just up the street, and Rhodes expertly parks his SUV—which no doubt cost more than I’ve made in the last two years—then turns off the ignition.

I make a move to get out, not wanting to be trapped in this tension-filled vehicle any longer.

“Wait,” Rhodes says, reaching out to stop me.

I try hard to ignore how warm his fingers feel wrapped around my wrist.

I turn toward him, brow arched. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He just stares at me, and it’s a stare that makes me uncomfortable. Like he’s looking right down to the very parts of me I keep hidden.

I don’t like it.

“When did you want to get your stuff moved to my place? I’ve got a pretty loaded schedule this week and want to get things sorted out.”

“Oh. Um, I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess tomorrow. Probably the sooner the better, right?”

He nods, then finally releases my wrist. I try not to think about how cold it makes me feel.

“Yeah, tomorrow is good. I can call some movers today, get some stuff set up.”

“Movers? I don’t think we’ll be needing movers.” I look around the fancy vehicle. “I’m pretty sure everything I own can fit in your SUV.”

His brows rise. “Everything?”

“Yeah, probably. I don’t really have that much. I’m a bit of a minimalist.”

And broke, but he doesn’t need to know that part.

“What about your bed? No way that will fit.”

Bed? He has no clue that my “bed” consists of two mattresses stacked on top of each other in the corner of the room.

I’ve been frugal with my money over the last few years. Everything extra I get goes toward my grandmother’s care and my student loans. Buying a new bed is very low on my list of things to do.

“We don’t have to take that. You can buy me a new one.”

He huffs out a laugh. “That so?”

I shrug. “We’ll call it a wedding gift since I didn’t get a real wedding.”

He grimaces. “Do you want one? A real one?”

I’ve been planning my wedding since I was six years old when I used to make my Barbies get married all the time. I know the dress I want to wear, the flowers I want sprinkled everywhere, the centerpieces, the lighting, the music…I have it all planned, and it’s nothing like the wedding I had.

Do I want a real wedding? Yes.

Just not with Rhodes.

“No.”

He looks at me like he wants to press the issue, then thinks better of it. “All right. No wedding. Just a bed.”

“A big bed. A sprawling bed. And a matching dresser.”

Because right now, my clothes are hanging on wire racks.

“A whole new bedroom set—got it.”

I sit back, satisfied with my requests. “Anything else, or am I free to go? My cat is waiting upstairs for me.”

“You have a cat?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Does he like dogs?”

She loves dogs.”

“Good. Because I have one.”

I don’t know why, but this surprises me. I didn’t really picture Rhodes having any pets at all. I always pictured him living alone in a dark and creepy castle on a hill.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet her.”

Him,” he mocks, and I narrow my eyes. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll text you a time.” He nods. “Can I go now?”

“What? No kiss for your husband?”

“I’ll kiss your nuts with my knee.”

He chuckles, but I see him not so subtly cover his junk.

I grab my bag from the back seat and hop out of the car, then climb the stairs to my apartment building. Just as I’m opening the front door, I hear his window roll down.

“Good night, my little sugar plum!”

With a groan, I slam the door closed.

I swear I hear him laugh.


Vivian Bell is a tiny woman, just shy of five foot two. She likely doesn’t weigh an ounce over a hundred and twenty-five pounds, and she’s 78 years young.

She’s my grandmother, and she’s the most important person in my life.

“Hey, Grams,” I say as I wrap my arms around her small frame the best I can as she sits in her favorite chair in the rec center of the facility. As usual, she has a word search book spread out in front of her. She’s obsessed with the damn things, going through a book a month on average.

She hugs me back. “Where you been, kid? I missed you for dinner last night.”

A frown tugs at my lips. “I was in Vegas, remember?”

“Oh, yes. I remember now. You took that strapping young man with you, right?”

I laugh because she can’t remember that I was in Vegas, but she sure as hell remembers Collin.

After fighting with her management for two weeks to get a new bookshelf up in her room, I finally gave in and asked Collin if he could come over and help put it together for her. He was more than happy to oblige, and to say my grandmother fell in love with him would be an understatement.

She recently became a hockey fan thanks to the other residents here getting her into it during the Comets Cup run, and when star defenseman Collin Wright walked through her door, she was over the moon…and immediately started in on him about his stats.

He took it all in stride and promised to come back again another time with Harper. They now stop by once a month to spend a few hours with my grandmother, who Harper has always been close with too.

“How was the trip? You didn’t get into too much trouble, did you?”

A pit forms at the bottom of my stomach at her words.

Too much trouble? Try all the trouble.

“Actually, Grams, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about today.”

“Oh no, my little Beauty. I know that tone. What happened?”

I grin at her nickname for me.

When I was younger, I was obsessed with Beauty and the Beast. Mostly because I really wanted the sweet library like Belle had, but still. We’re talking watching it every daypractically living in my replica Belle dress, and talking to the dishes kind of obsessed.

Because of that, my grandmother began to call me Beauty.

Fitting now, especially since I’m married to The Beast.

Speaking of…

I take a steadying breath. “Well, there’s this guy I’ve been seeing for a while.” Not a complete lie. I have known Rhodes for a while. “Things…well…they got very serious very fast. And we sort of…got married.”

She lifts a brow, eyeing me stoically. “Sort of?”

“Well, we did. W-We got…married. We’re married.” The word keeps tripping me up, and I pray she doesn’t see through my facade.

She continues to stare at me, and finally, after what feels like twenty excruciating minutes, a big smile breaks out across her face, and she claps her hands together. “Oh, I am so happy for you, dear!” She gasps. “It’s not to that Steven fella, is it?”

“No. We broke up, remember?”

Her shoulders sag in relief. “Good. I never liked that little asshole.”

I bark out a laugh. My grandma might be old and petite and have to use a walker to get around most days, but she’s full of fire where it counts.

“Well, who is he? Tell me all about him.”

“Wait…you’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy, and you got that glow about you, so I have nothing to worry about.”

“But you don’t think it was too sudden or anything?”

“Pfft!” She waves her hand at me. “When you know, you know, right, dear?”

I can’t help but think of Rhodes saying the same thing.

The romantic in me wants to agree, but this isn’t romantic. There’s nothing romantic about any of this at all.

I should have known Grams would think otherwise though. After all, she’s the one who introduced me to romantic comedies and romance novels and taught me the real meaning of love.

“Tell me everything about him. When do I get to meet this fine young man who has swept my little Beauty off her feet?”

I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I guess Rhodes does need to meet my grandmother. After all, he will be the one paying for her care for the next year.

“Well, he has a pretty busy schedule, so I’ll have to get with him and find a time where he can come and get to know you some. I guess you kind of technically already know him.”

Her gray brows furrow. “I do?”

I nod. “Well, he, uh, he works with Collin.”

Her green eyes—the same shade as mine—grow in size. “You’ve married a hockey player?”

I nod again. “Yep. I…married a hockey player.”

“Ooh, girl.” She licks her lips. “You could bounce a quarter off their asses.”

“Grams!”

She lifts her dainty shoulder. “What? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the nice things in life anymore.”

I shake my head, grinning.

She’s not wrong about that. Hockey players do have some nice butts, and Rhodes is no exception to this rule.

“Is that how you two met? Through Harper?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Ugh, we really need to get our story straight. “We’ve been dancing around one another for months.” Not totally untrue. Any time I’ve tried to befriend Rhodes, he’s always walked away from me. “You know how it can be on vacation. Sometimes those feelings you keep bottled up can just come right out, and that’s what happened. We just looked at each other and knew.”

Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. All of it lies.

“Awww.” She places her hand over her heart. “That is just too sweet. How did he propose?”

I don’t remember it.

I was up half the night last night trying to remember any details of our wedding beyond what was posted online. I remember the diner and him forcing me to eat to sober me up some. I remember the look on his face when he learned the woman he loves is marrying someone else. And I remember him begging me to help him forget.

But after that, it’s pretty blank.

“He put the ring in a glass of champagne.”

She frowns. “A little unoriginal, but show me the ring and we’ll see if he can redeem himself.”

The ring? Fuck!

“It’s, uh, getting resized.”

Another lie. The ring fits fine. I just took it off this morning because I couldn’t stand the sight of it. I made the mistake of getting on my phone and saw all the notifications I had. There were a few comments about how it had to be fake, and I even saw an article saying the same thing.

Just looking at the ring knowing they were right made my stomach hurt, so I took it off.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad. Hopefully it’ll be ready next time when you come to visit.”

“I’m sure it will be. Speaking of visiting, I have some good news.”

She perks up at my announcement. “More good news?”

Oh, right. I forgot my marriage was supposed to be good news too.

“Yes.” I lean in closer. “Don’t say anything just yet, but we’re going to be moving you out of here and into a new place soon.”

I’m not quite sure what I thought she’d do, maybe jump out of her chair, do a little dance. I definitely wasn’t expecting her lips to pull down in a frown.

“Oh, Beauty, as much as I appreciate that, I know this place is already a bit out of budget.”

I don’t talk to my grandmother about how much this facility costs, but I shouldn’t be surprised that of course she knows.

“It’s fine, Grams. My…husband wants to do this for you.”

“Does he really?”

I nod. “Yes. He knows you mean the world to me, and he wants to take good care of you.”

Her shoulders sink with relief. “Oh, gosh. I am so happy to hear that. You found yourself a good one. You make sure you keep him.”

If she only knew…

Grams steers the conversation toward all the drama happening around the facility. Her roommate, Deana, had a friend over, and after a few too many bottles of wine, a male stripper showed up at Grams’ door and…well, let’s just say that friend is no longer permitted on the premises.

We chat for a while longer, and I tell her about Harper’s good news she shared with me this morning—she and Collin are moving in together. Grams looks a little heartbroken that Collin won’t be leaving Harper for her anytime soon, but she tells me to pass on her congratulations anyway.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to check it.


Rhodes: I’m here.


Oh, shit. I completely forgot Rhodes was meeting me at my apartment to help me move.

My landlord wasn’t too happy with my last-minute move-out when I called this morning, but I don’t really care. It’s not like he hasn’t left me high and dry plenty of times in the years I’ve lived there.


Rhodes: Where are you???


Me: Hold your horses. I’ll be there in a bit.


Three dots appear on the screen. Bounce, bounce, bounce they go. Then they disappear.

Appear, disappear.

Something tells me he is not pleased right now.


Me: I can feel you glaring at me through the phone.


Me: I’m with my grandmother. Time got away from me.


Rhodes: You’re with your grandma? Don’t you think I should have come with you? Met her?


He’s probably right. He should be here to meet her for many different reasons.

But I wanted to tell Grams about Rhodes on my own. You know, just in case the crazy old bat flew out of her chair and maimed him for marrying her granddaughter on a whim in Vegas. Then I’d have to bail her out of jail, and it would be a whole thing—one I don’t have the time or patience to deal with right now.


Rhodes: I mean, I AM going to be paying her bills.


Me: I mean, I AM helping you fake a marriage.


Rhodes: Point taken.


Rhodes: Just hurry up. I’m starving and want to get this shit done.


“Now, dear, who has you frowning like that? I hope it’s not your new man.”

I tuck my phone back into my pocket, turning my attention to a worried-looking Grams. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She chucks my chin. “Attagirl. Tough, just like I taught you.”

And she did. Harper always calls me Ryan the Lion, but she has no idea that I’m a cute cub compared to Grams.

“Listen, Grams, I gotta jet.”

“Got some ass to whoop?” She sticks her little fists up, punching at a pretend victim.

Man, I love this woman. She’s tough on the outside, sweet on the inside.

“That’s right.” I wink at her, then wrap her in another hug. “I’ll be back on Sunday for our usual dinner, okay?”

She crooks her finger at me, beckoning me closer. “Bring burgers. It’s meatloaf this weekend, and it tastes like cat turds.”

“You got it,” I whisper conspiratorially.

Every Sunday I stop by to have dinner with her and bring her something different for dinner. I figure it’s the least I can do since she’s stuck in this crummy place.

But not for much longer. Soon, she’ll be out of here and on to somewhere much better.

I just have to keep reminding myself that all this crap with Rhodes is worth it because Grams will be happy.

That’s all that matters.

My phone buzzes again.


Rhodes: A “Yes, husband” would be nice.


I grit my teeth, pocketing my phone.

I give Grams one last kiss, then head out.

For Grams, I remind myself as I leave to definitely not murder my husband.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset