Page 9 of Hearts Don't Lie
He didn’t.
The youngest of four boys, Hardin had been the easiest to raise, or so his parents said, the one who never bucked their wishes. Hardin had watched his parents slowly restructure their lives in preparation for being empty nesters since he was in grade school. They failed to see Mac tucked in among the mass of fans at the games. Neither did they notice that he often used the excuse of practices and studying to see her, so certain were they that their son always did as they instructed. They had long ago given him his independence, and for the first time in his life, he ignored his parents’ wishes because he knew who Mac was—the love of his life. His heart didn’t lie.
What he shared with Mac was raw, hungry, and pure. Their last night before he left for college was everything he had hoped for. Giving her the necklace. Pledging to love each other. Making love. And then it had gotten fucked up sideways.
Piñon Ridge…
That things hadn’t gone well with Mac this morning was the understatement of the century. Christ, she wouldn’t even look at him, and on top of her cool, dismissive tone, that was problematic. He needed to connect with her, see if what they had in high school still existed or could be rekindled. Instead, she had chastised him, and he’d left like some damned dog scurrying off with its tail between its legs.
Hardin ached to bask in those beautiful brown eyes that had unraveled him each and every time since he had first met her in high school, those eyes that haunted his dreams. He wanted to bathe in the smile she had only for him, the one that made him feel so incredibly cherished and loved. He longed to talk to her, hear that raspy voice that sent electricity racing through him. Enjoy that quirky giggle that became an infectious belly laugh when she was really tickled.
Frustration and anger burned in his gut when he thought of all that had transpired. He and Mac had been railroaded. What a fucking mess. He was furious with Mac’s mom but even more so with his parents, who had refused to accept that he had found his forever love in high school.
At this point, Hardin’s relationship with his parents was practically nonexistent, having grown more strained as the years passed. Living in Spain and playing most of the year outside the US gave him the emotional and physical distance he needed, welcomed. He’d been able to avoid their unceasing questions and pressure about his social life, and eventually they had stopped hounding him to settle down and start a family. Nowadays the Ambroses talked about the inconsequential during the rare occasions they spoke, understanding that the minute they stepped into Hardin’s personal sphere, he would end the phone call. He didn’t miss them; his parents had been physically absent and emotionally distant for as long as he could recall.
After a year in the MEFL and no success locating Mac, Hardin became petulant. It came off as an edgy cockiness, and combined with his handsome dark looks and sensational skills, women seemed to find him an irresistible aphrodisiac, drawn to him like bees to honey.
Detached, Hardin fell into bouncing from woman to woman, earning the reputation of a “player” and a “bad boy” when in truth he was the exact opposite. No amount of companionship or sex filled his emotional needs. He remained lonely. Hollow. Tormented. Unable to sustain a relationship beyond a few months because none of the women he dated were anything like who he needed. Who hedesired.
Hardin had given Mac his whole heart in high school, and since he’d lost her, the only time he felt whole was when he was on the pitch—practicing and playing his ass off or coaching the next generation of up-and-coming premier hopefuls.
Stowe, Vermont, Winter Break, Hardin’s Senior Year of High School…
Mac tripped down the stairs of the Hickory Lodge, her face lighting up as soon as she saw him. “Hardin!” She launched at him before stepping onto the floor.
He caught Mac easily and hugged her close, kissing her soundly, not wanting to put her down, but they were getting looks from some of the passersby. He was thrilled that their plan of being together over break had worked out.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, helping her slip into the new ski jacket he’d given her for Christmas. The cobalt blue was a stunning combination with her auburn hair and chestnut-colored eyes. “I worried when your plane was delayed.”
They had four days. No training. No family or social commitments. To do more or less as they chose since the accompanying chaperones had large groups of students to keep their eyes on.
Both of their high school ski clubs came here every winter break, but it was the first time either of them had participated in their clubs. Their plan was hatched in the early fall, when Mac got wind of the essay contest and coveted awards made possible by the alumni club—airfare, the student’s portion of the dorm room they were sharing with nine other students of the same sex, daily breakfast, and multiday lift pass. Lunches, dinners, equipment rentals, and incidentals were the student’s expense. Mac won one of the two awards. Hardin enthusiastically offered to cover all her incidentals.
“You’re hungry, right?”
“Ravenous,” she said, putting on her cream-colored hat and mittens, also gifts from Hardin, then taking his hand.
Always the gentleman, Hardin held the door open for her. “Let’s go eat.”
They stepped outside into the center of postcard-perfect Stowe, which boasted a classic early-nineteenth-century New England village. It was almost dark. Hand in hand, they strolled the cozy town, which was festively lit with holiday lights.
Over the ensuing days, Hardin and Mac made their own schedule, being sure to check in with their chaperones. They relished making the most of their time together, which was usually interrupted by his training and frequent trips out of the country. They hadn’t consummated their relationship, but it was becoming more difficult to keep it that way as their feelings deepened.
Never having skied or snowboarded, they took lessons before venturing onto the slopes on their own. During the late afternoons, they explored the village, enjoying hot chocolate and conversation, growing even closer. Their time together was magical.
The night before they left, they made one long trek around the town and ended up at the gazebo all by themselves. The snow fell in big fluffy flakes, dusting everything in an airy white blanket, all but silencing any sound but that of their breathing. Hardin cleared snow off part of the benches built into the sides before sitting.
“It’s beautiful,” Mac said wistfully, lowering herself next to and facing him. “I’ll always remember this moment, being here with you in this peaceful wonderland.”
Mac smiled at him, as only she could, taking his breath away. His heart took off like a rocket in his chest.
“I’ll never forget this moment either.”
“Is this enough for you?” she asked, her eyes searching his. “I’m not trying to string you along, Hardin. I’m just not ready. I know there are so many girls who—”
He placed his gloved fingers over her lips to keep her from saying more. “You’re more than enough. I don’t want to pressure you, but I do want you to know I want you, Mac. I don’t want anyone else but you. When you’re ready.” He kissed her tenderly and inclined his head, looking down as he covered her hands with his, then fixated on her eyes and took a deep breath. “I love you, Mac.”
Her smile lit up the intimate space, bathing him in delicious warmth. “And I love you, Hardin.”
