Mia frowned, confused. “But Tate always said—”
“Tate is… Tate is…smart and driven and a leader. He’s honest, dependable, and generous to a fault, and he’s the best friend I’ll ever have. But we both know Tate sees things in black or white. Everything is his way or the highway. And he’s so caught up seeing things his way, believes that his way is so two hundred percent right for everyone, he doesn’t even realize there’s another way to see it.”
“Okay, I’ll agree with that. But I still don’t get—”
“Tate wants the Cup. And Tate loves me. So Tate wants the Cup for me too.”
Mia frowned. “Maybe I’m still half asleep, because that’s not computing.”
“Tate wants to share all the good things in his life with the people he loves. He loves you and me. Which is why—”
“We have Joe.”
“And why I got to take lessons with Tate and the private hockey coach Joe paid for. And why I got tutoring with Tate and the math tutor Joe paid for.”
“I get what you’re saying.”
“And I do want the Cup, just as bad as the other guys do. But I want it for Tate. I want it for the guys on the team who need it to fulfill some dream they had skating on a remote pond as kids in Canada or Russia or Sweden. So, yeah, I want that cup, and you can bet I’ll bleed for it, but it’s not my dream.”
Mia was thinking about dreams. About Rafe having achieved his personal dream so young, yet going on to use his talents to help other people fulfill their dreams. And damn if she didn’t fall in love with him again, right there on the spot.
With her heart so full it ached, she leaned down and kissed him gently, letting her lips linger on his. He stroked her hair off her face, and when she pulled back, she smiled. “I can’t tell you how lucky I feel to have you in my life. You are such a special man.”
He stroked her cheek with his thumb and held her gaze until she curled into his arm and pressed her head to his shoulder.
They’d gotten way off the subject of their relationship, and Mia didn’t know how to bring it back around to ending it, or if she even should right now.
“What would you think of me spending the summer here?” came from him out of nowhere.
She processed that for a split second, but when she only came up with what the hell? Mia sat up. She looked at him, opened her mouth, but her thoughts tangled somewhere between her brain and her lips. Frustrated, she scooped his T-shirt from the floor where she’d dumped it when she’d pulled it off him earlier that night before Rafe had pinned her to the bed.
Pulling it over her head and jerking her arms through, she rolled to her knees, planted her hands on her thighs, and said, “Where did that come from?”
He shifted to his side, and the sheet fell forward, exposing the curve of his ass and his thickly muscled thigh. “Sounds like you don’t like that idea.” His tone was guarded and hurt. Brittle. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, giving Mia his back. “That’s fine. Let’s drop it.”
She lunged for him and dug her fingers into his shoulder. “Don’t you dare do that with me.”
He turned back, shrugging off her hand. “Do what? I asked you a question. You answered it. You don’t have to read something into everything.”
“You didn’t just ask me a question, Rafe. You just spun my world on its axis. So don’t act all butt hurt when I call you on it.”
He heaved a breath, hung his head, and ran all five fingers through his hair. “Shit.”
Mia was torn. Half of her wanted to be his best friend, show him compassion, and tell him he could tell her anything and it would be okay. But she’d crossed well beyond friendship with him, and that deep investment held an incredible risk to her heart. She needed him to know he couldn’t just say anything and expect her to accept it.
So she fought for a happy medium. “Rafe, it’s me. Just talk. It doesn’t have to come out right the first time. I’ve heard every stupid thing you’ve ever said.” That made him huff a laugh. “Just start somewhere, and we’ll talk it out until we get it straight.”
He dropped back to the bed. Quiet seconds lingered that twisted Mia’s insides into a pretzel. By the time he turned to sit sideways, Mia had a fist pressed against her belly for counterpressure.
“There’s nothing to straighten out. I try to find ways to make this work, but every path I take ends in a brick wall. I figured I should ask if you were even interested in the idea before I kept denting my head. I mean, it’s your new life and all. Maybe you want to start fresh, no ties. I mean, I could understand that, I guess.”
“The idea of, what? Having you in LA this summer?”
His gaze met hers in the most adorably hopeful look, she wanted to jump in his lap and kiss him. “Yeah.”
She bit her lip to help herself deal with her very painful reality. “I think that would depend on what you planned to do after the summer. Because I’m over having guys walk away from me. And I’m definitely not up for just falling even deeper in love with you only to get my heart broken even worse when you say hasta la vista as soon as hockey season kicks in.”
He gave her a curious look, like he hadn’t fully understood what she’d said. But he turned toward her a little more. “The season is where I keep hitting walls. All the West Coast games are scheduled together in one week. But the other months, we’re playing every second day, practicing on the others. All except for those once-a-month three- or five-day breaks. But you know how the management stuffs those with charity and promotional events.”