Melting Ice (11 page)

“Better to crawl out from under a rock than a pile of shit like you did,” Isaac countered, his blue eyes colder than Avery had ever seen them.

Dismissing his brother, Tanner turned to Avery and Emma, speaking as if Isaac wasn’t standing right there. “Stay away from this one, ladies. He’s bad news. He has a habit of destroying anyone who cares about him. It’s a rare talent.”

“Runs in the family,” Isaac muttered.

“What’s that, Ice? I didn’t hear you.” Tanner turned back to his brother, hands fisted, eyes blazing, and ready to do battle. Both Blake and Cooper watched the men closely, ready to intervene if necessary.

Glancing at the gaping
spectators
, Isaac visibly swallowed and cleared his throat. “I said, it’s nice seeing you, too. It’s been a while.” His forced smile showed perfect white teeth and was more a snarl than a smile.

Isaac’s cordial response caught Tanner off guard, and he backed up a step, staring at his brother as if he’d lost his mind. Obviously, politeness was not the norm for these two.

Tanner turned to Avery’s sister. “Let’s go, Bella,” he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her down the hallway.

Silence followed as Tanner disappeared from sight.

“Sorry about that,” Isaac said with an apologetic grimace. “We aren’t close.”

“Obviously. You and I have something in common, Ice. Neither one of us can stand that prick.” Cooper grinned, ignoring Izzy’s sock to his arm.

“Cooper, behave.”

“You like it when I don’t behave, honey.”

“Not again. Get a room. Seriously.” Cooper’s teenage nephew Riley rolled his eyes and made a gagging sound similar to Emma’s earlier.

“We’d better go.” Izzy sighed, as if wrangling these two men tested her patience. Avery knew she loved every minute of it. “Anyone want to join us for a late dinner?”

“We will,” Emma answered for Avery.

“Great, let’s go.” Cooper glanced at Isaac and Blake. “You two coming?”

“Yeah, sure, why not. I don’t have anything better to do. How about you, Ice?” Blake shot a hopeful look in Isaac’s direction.

“Not tonight, thanks.” Isaac didn’t look too happy. In fact, he looked somewhere between miserable and ready to commit murder.

Avery’s heart went out to him. She could tell he was hurting. Despite his outer façade of indifference, she’d seen a momentary flash of pain in his blue eyes before they’d frozen into chips of blue ice.

Avery tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her altogether, said his goodbyes, and left her to the mercy of her sisters. She’d much rather be spending the night with Isaac healing whatever ailed him. She knew just the antidote to help a man forget his troubles for a few hours, and the very antidote that’d get him in trouble with his captain and her in even more hot water with her sister.

If only she could find an antidote for her attraction to Isaac.

* * * *

Isaac needed a drink worse then he’d needed one in the last two years.

By the time he pulled his car into an empty stall in front of a neighborhood bar just a short distance from his house, his hands were shaking, and he’d broken out in a cold sweat. It was almost as if he’d just quit drinking a few days ago instead of a few years ago. He stared at the scarred door as he gripped the steering wheel, waging a silent war with himself and his cravings for alcohol.

Just one drink. That was all. Just one.

Only it never ended with just one. One drink turned into two and three and four and kept going until he passed out and forgot about the pain for a short while. Only the pain never completely went away. It skulked in the shadows, waiting for him to sober up and came back stronger than before, requiring even more alcohol to forget.

Isaac got out of the car, his feet carrying him into the bar as if they controlled his movements, not his brain, which appeared to be conspicuously absent.

Isaac paused in the doorway and took in the lay of the land. Considering it was a Saturday night, the place was only about half full. Classic rock played on the jukebox across the room. Patrons gathered around tables laughing and drinking. Two men at the lone pool table played a heated game.

He sat down at an empty table not too close to anyone else. He wanted to be left alone, as usual. A tattooed waitress with jet black hair and a nose ring walked over to his table. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a—whisk—” Isaac’s throat constricted.
New team. New year. New life. Same brother. Same guilt. Same destructive reaction to that guilt.

The waitress stared down at him, tapping her booted foot with impatience.

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“A
Coke
?” She squinted at him like she’d never had anyone order a Coke before.

“Yeah, a Coke.”

Rolling her eyes, she wandered off, taking her time, as if she’d already pegged him as not being a good tipper. She was right; usually he wasn’t. Isaac propped his elbows on the table and leaned his chin on his hands. He stared at the TV hanging on the wall showing clips from the evening’s sporting events, including the Sockeyes.

A few seconds later the waitress plopped the soda on the table. Isaac grabbed it and took a long drink, as if it were his lifeline. He closed his eyes as the cold liquid slid down his throat, not getting the burn he used to get from alcohol, but feeling oddly triumphant.

One more challenge, and he’d once again said no to temptation.

Pretty damn noble of him.

He almost chuckled as he used the drink napkin to wipe the sweat from his face. His hands still shook but not as badly. He’d be damned if two years, three months, and five days of sobriety would end because his dickwad brother pissed him off. Tanner wasn’t worth undoing all the work he’d done to get this far.

“Is this seat taken?”

At the sound of that familiar voice, Isaac looked up as Avery sat in the chair across from him.

Part of him rejoiced at her surprise appearance while a more practical part knew it wasn’t a good idea to be with her alone or in a crowded room.

She signaled to the waitress and ordered a beer. “What are you drinking?” she asked conversationally, even though her appearance happened to be anything but conversational.

“Coke.”

“Just Coke?”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his hands wrapped around the cold glass.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Her voice almost undid him. She sounded so concerned. No one ever worried about Isaac, and his imprisoned emotions rattled their cage door, begging to be set free.

“About what?” He played stupid, and she wasn’t buying it.

“You looked like a guy who could use a friend a short time ago.” Her blue eyes captured his, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to tell another person everything. Absolutely everything. Only he couldn’t because that would leave him exposed and vulnerable.

“I don’t need anybody. I’m fine by myself. That way the only person who gets damaged is me.” He met her gaze, holding his steady, and refusing to show any emotion.

“Everyone needs somebody. Even you. What your brother said—that hurt—you can’t fool me even if the others don’t look any deeper.”

She seen through his defenses, and he looked away, concentrating on drawing rings on the table with his glass. “Look, Avery. I’m trouble. Bad news. And I don’t need you complicating my life, and you sure as hell don’t need me complicating yours.”

“Probably not, but I’ve never been one to take the easy path.” The humor in her voice caused him to glance up into her twinkling eyes.

He had to chuckle. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“So what’s the deal with your brother?”

Isaac stiffened; everything inside him went cold. He didn’t talk about his family or any aspect of his personal life. He’d never let down his guard enough to let others inside the screwed up mess that was Isaac Wolfe. Sure, stuff leaked out here and there, but mostly it had to do with his past, including his very public partying and inability to get along with his teammates.

He didn’t give a flying leap what the press said about him, as long as he could play hockey. Now here was the irony of it all—in order to stay in hockey, he’d have to play nice with the very people and systems he despised. But he didn’t have to play nice with his brother, only his teammates, the hockey press, Sockeyes fans and staff. The rest of them could go to hell.

“You’re not going to answer me, are you?” Avery’s smile was sad, almost pitying. He hated being pitied, and it shored up his resolve.

“No.” He turned away from her, back to the TV, hoping she’d get the point that hanging out with him wasn’t the best idea in the world.

“I’m confused.” Avery leaned forward across the table. He could smell her sweet scent, and he sat back in his chair to put some distance between them.

He frowned at her, sensing some kind of female trap and walking into it anyway. “Why?”

“I don’t know what to do about you.” She chewed on her lower lip in the most delectable way. His eyes went to it and refused to budge.

“Don’t do anything,” he said hoarsely. He dragged his gaze from her mouth and shot her a pointed glare which usually did the trick for most women. Avery laughed, a deep, throaty, from-the-belly laugh. He liked the sound of her laughter way too much. It warmed his frozen soul.

“That would be the easiest thing to do.” He was pretty damn sure she didn’t choose the easy path often, and she most likely wouldn’t with him.

Isaac wanted her to leave, yet he wanted her to stay. She was nosy and a little pushy and way too direct for his taste. He preferred women who limited their talking to sex talk in the form of describing what they’d do to him once they got him naked. Avery wanted to talk about
him
. No one ever wanted to talk about him. The entire notion made him uncomfortable yet oddly flattered that he mattered enough for her to attempt to get closer.

Then a depressing possibility occurred to him, something far more devious and sinister than he’d ever give her credit for, but what the hell did he know? He’d been burned before, which was why he made it a point to be the one doing the burning. Maybe she was mining him for information to feed to the team captain.

“Why are you here? Did someone put you up to this?” he shot back, suspicion hardening him.

“Because I’m a sucker for wounded animals, and no, no one put me up to this.” She met his gaze, her own direct and honest, full of concern.

“You think I’m a wounded animal?”

“You are a Wolfe.” She giggled at her own stupid joke.

Isaac rolled his eyes. He should tell her to leave, or even better he should leave. “Something tells me you won’t be easy to get rid of.”

“Probably not. If there’s a bee’s nest in a tree, I’m the first one to stick my hand in it.”

Isaac didn’t doubt that. “That’ll get you stung.”

She shrugged one shoulder and winked at him. She was so damned adorable. Isaac couldn’t recall ever thinking of a woman as adorable, at least not the type of women he dated.

“So Mr. Wolfe, what is your brother’s problem?”

Isaac debated ignoring her question, getting pissed about it, or telling the truth. He had no clue why, but he needed to talk to someone after what happened earlier. He’d thought he’d hardened his heart toward any member of his family, especially his dickhead younger brothers, but Tanner had a talent for exposing a person’s weakness and going for the jugular, family not excluded.

“My family blames me for my sister’s death.”

Avery sat back, her smile turning to a puzzled frown. “They do?”

Isaac didn’t know which was worse—the pain of remembering or the empty void left by the absence of his two favorite people, his sister and his girlfriend. He’d done this to them, and he’d never forgive himself, nor did he expect or deserve his family to do so. How could they if he couldn’t?

Right now, all he wanted was to be left alone so no one saw how much he hurt inside. Never let them see you bleed. Ever. As his grandpa was fond of saying over and over again. Those words sank in and became his mantra for most of his life. The only people he’d ever let inside were both dead, thanks to him and his drinking.

“Yeah, the worst part is they’re right.” Isaac stood abruptly, having had enough of this conversation. He tossed money on the table for their drinks, gave her a mock salute, and walked out of the bar. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder at Avery. She hadn’t moved. Her hands were on the table. Her mouth hung open in shock. Their gazes met briefly before he whipped back around and got the hell out of there.

That’d teach him a lesson about going in a bar after being clean and sober for two years.

* * * *

Avery finished her beer, sipping slowly on it, while shooting down a couple persistent men who’d assumed she’d just gotten into a fight with her boyfriend and might be in the mood for revenge sex.

What’d just happened here? Isaac claimed he’d killed his sister, but he wasn’t in jail. She didn’t recall hearing a scandal pertaining to his sister, but she’d sure as hell check on it once she got home.

The whole evening had been surreal. She’d never seen Tanner abandon his charm and act like a bigger dick than Isaac, except with Cooper. He loved to needle Cooper. But, wow, to air his family’s dirty laundry like that and with such venom? Tanner always seemed so affable and laid back, yet he went after his brother just like a wolf after wounded prey. And Isaac took it without defending himself, but maybe there wasn’t a defense for whatever happened if both men could be believed.

She didn’t have enough information to make a judgment call, and Avery believed in following her gut when it came to people. Isaac was wounded, but a killer? Not possible.

As soon as Avery got home, she resisted the urge to head over to Isaac’s for round two. That would only end one way—with both of them naked. And as badly as she wanted him, she resisted with every ounce of willpower she had, not for her own sake, but for Isaac’s. He didn’t need the trouble being with her would cause with the team captain.

So Avery became a stalker—not a nutcase type of stalker, but more of a casual stalker.