My Lucky #13 (Hockey Hotties) Page 20

  I run my hands down my face. “It’s been two games.”

  “If it was only two games, we wouldn’t be here, but you’re forgetting the nine games before the revival. Now it’s looking like the slump is starting again.” He pats me on the back. “It’s a hard decision, but all athletes make sacrifices.”

  He leaves the room and I sit there until Coach barges back in. “Go do your self-reflection bullshit at the yoga studio.” He eyes me. “But it would be a good idea for you to get your ass to that psychologist’s office.”

  I stand and leave, happy to see some of the team is already filing out. I send Saige a quick text.

  Me: I’m going to be awhile, I’ll call you tonight.

  Without waiting for an answer, I shove my phone back in my locker and head to the showers.

  Is there some truth to the suggestion that I’m distracted? Sure, I do think about Saige a lot, and I did miss a good chance at a goal tonight because I was looking at her. But she’s the one who brought my game back in the first place.

  The water sluices down my back and I stand there for a moment, staring at the floor. I need to think this through. If I end up getting traded to a different city, that’ll be the end of Saige and me anyway, so I need to stay on the Fury no matter what it takes.

  “Damn it,” I mumble and pump some shampoo into my hand.

  How do I stay on the team and keep Saige in my life? It doesn’t seem like they’re both possible at the same time. So maybe I need to do what I can to stay on the team so I can work on being with Saige after I’ve accomplished the first goal.

  Chapter Thirty

  Saige

  Aiden has taken this loss a lot worse than the first one. He didn’t even call or come over last night. Instead he ended up texting me that he was heading home and going to bed and he’d call me this morning.

  So when I’m getting ready for work and there’s a knock on my door, I’m surprised to find Aiden in workout clothes at my front step, holding a box of danishes.

  “Hey, want to help me get dressed?” I open my towel and flash him.

  He doesn’t react at all. Instead his face is void of emotion. “Can we talk?”

  “What?” I’m a little taken aback at his lack of response, and embarrassed.

  “Can I come in?”

  I swallow the dryness in my throat and step aside. “Maybe I should get dressed before you break up with me.”

  He quickly looks away from me. Oh my god, I was half joking, but is that really why he’s here?

  I stand there and inhale, wetness filling my eyes. “Say what you want and leave.”

  He heads to my living room and sits on the couch. “Come on. Sit down next to me.”

  I shake my head. “Say it.”

  He puts the danishes on the coffee table. Is this what guys do now? Bring the girl some sweets when you’re going to break up with her so she can put herself in a sugar coma after you leave? Or better yet, have her gain ten pounds before the next guy?

  “Mr. Gerhardt and Joran cornered me last night.”

  I nod. “And?”

  “Saige, please sit down. I want us to come to this decision mutually.”

  I narrow my eyes as though I didn’t hear him right. “Well, Aiden, I don’t want to break up, so there is no mutual in this.” I wave my hand. “Go ahead and say what you want.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t want to do this, but it’s my career. Everything I’ve worked for. Everything I know. If I’m not a hockey player, who am I?”

  “You’re Aiden Drake.”

  “You know what I mean. I can’t jeopardize everything this close to trade deadline. Joran suggested you and I hold off until the off-season to kick things into high gear.”

  “Joran?” I ask. He’s taking relationship advice from a guy like Joran, who doesn’t understand the meaning of the word relationship?

  “Yeah, and he has a point.”

  I hold up my hand. “So you’re willing to break this off and I’m free to date whoever I want?”

  “Well…”

  “Yeah, you didn’t think that part through, did you? Do you expect me to sit around while you do what you want, then when hockey isn’t in the picture, I’m supposed to drop everything and come running?”

  He shakes his head. He may play for the Fury, but he doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Fury is this feeling swirling through my veins right now, like I might spontaneously explode if I don’t release some of this pent-up anger.

  “You know what? Let me save you the effort. You don’t have to explain. You can leave, and I wish you all the best with your hockey career. And I do mean that. I hope you get everything you dreamed of. But once you leave here, that door is closed. In season, off-season, whenever, it’s closed, and Aiden Drake is barred from entering ever again.”

  His dark eyes barely meet mine. “This isn’t what I want.”

  “No, Aiden, you want everything the way you want it, all the time. I’m not some toy you pick up and play with when you feel like, then put back on the shelf when you’re done. I’m a fucking human being.”

  He walks over to me, his hands out and ready to touch me. I step back because if he makes contact with me, I’m going to crumble.

  “Just go,” I say.

  “I’ll give you a few days and hopefully you’ll see that this is the right move right now.” He turns and pauses at the door.

  The silence is so thick you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it. For a moment, I wish he’d turn back around and say he was wrong and he’s sorry. But he opens the door, walks through, and shuts it.

  I fall to the floor and bury my head in my hands, finally allowing the tears free.

  “What are you doing?” Tedi comes and sits down on the steps at the end of my row.

  I’m in the nosebleed section of the Fury arena because I couldn’t not come and see if me not throwing a drink in his face made a difference, if everyone was right and I was the distraction in Aiden’s game.

  “Torturing myself?” I offer her my best guess.

  “Saige,” she sighs. “Tweetie says Aiden’s a mess. That he’s screaming and yelling at all the players. He’s being more demanding of them and the entire locker room is at odds.”

  “I don’t care. He broke up with me.”

  She puts her hand on my knee. “And I get that, but why be here then?”

  “How did you find me?” I ask.

  “I’m your assistant. You bought the ticket online, and they sent it in an email.”

  “And you’re down in the first row?”

  She says nothing at first. When Tweetie was told Tedi was a distraction, he didn’t break up with her. Because that’s what you do when you really care about someone.

  “I’ll gladly go home with you,” she says.

  I shake my head.

  Tedi stands and I hope she leaves because then I can enjoy my pretzel with extra salt in peace. Instead, she hands two tickets to the guys next to me. “Here. Front row seats. Go.”

  I shake my head. “Tedi, don’t.”

  “If you’re sitting here, so am I.”

  “Seriously, ma’am?” the guy says.

  “Call me ma’am again and I’ll rip them up right in front of your face.”

  They scurry away and she sits down next to me, tears off a piece of my pretzel, and brushes off some salt. What a waste of salt.

  The lights go dark and everyone in the crowd cheers, getting excited knowing the team is about to be introduced. They introduce everyone—Maksim, Ford, the rest of the guys, and when Tweetie is announced, Tedi screams, “That’s my man.”

  “And last, our captain and center, Aiden Drake,” the announcer says.

  He skates out, raises his stick, and leads his team to skate around the ice before heading to their bench.

  Once all the fanfare is over, Aiden comes out in the first period and scores a goal, assisting in another. That seals it. I am the problem.

  “It means nothing,” Ted
i whispers.

  A girl in the row in front of us looks at me and whispers to her friend next to her. She thinks she’s being sly, but she keeps glancing over her shoulder at me.

  Second period, Aiden is everywhere, but the score doesn’t change. He steals the puck a bunch of times and gets it down to the net enough, but can’t get it past the goaltender.

  “Are you her?” the girl in front of me asks.

  Tedi twirls her finger at her. “Turn around.”

  “You are, aren’t you?” her friend says.

  “Am I who?” I ask.

  “Aiden Drake’s girlfriend,” the first girl asks. “I recognize you from the pictures.”

  “You should be in the first row, or is he hiding you?” the other says.

  “Why would he hide her?” Tedi asks. “Mind your business and turn around.”

  “We’re not together anymore,” I admit, and Tedi sighs.

  “For now. It’ll change,” Tedi tells them. “So keep your clothes on.”

  I give Tedi a pleading look and she stops.

  During the third period, I get up to leave after Aiden scores.

  “Come on, you cannot believe in all this bullshit.” Tedi follows me.

  I head into the bathroom. As luck would have it, those two girls are in there, putting on their lipstick. Probably so they can go wait with the other women for Aiden and his teammates after the game.

  “Did you break up because of the Instagram post?” one of the girls asks.

  The other girl shhs her, but I stop before going into a stall. “No.”

  “Because if you did, I was going to say those people are just jealous and you shouldn’t let random people who hide behind a screen ruin something for you.”

  “I had the same view until I read those things about myself. It makes it hard.”

  The girl nods. “I know.”

  I stare at Tedi. See? Not every woman wants our men. “But we broke up because of something else.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “Thank you.”

  I look at Tedi. “Take me home.”

  She puts her arm around my shoulders. “I’m the best date ever, you just wait. I’ll stop at any fast-food place you want, and I’ll let you watch whatever movie you want while I trash talk your ex.”

  I laugh and leave the Fury arena for the last time. This isn’t me. I don’t sit here and feel sorry for myself. Screw Aiden Drake. He’s the one who lost out this time.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Aiden

  We won, even though not one drop of wine hit my face before the game. The Fury won with me scoring one goal and one assist. As good as it feels knowing I’m performing again and there’s just one more game left before trade deadline, I’ve been grumpy and mean and an asshole since I split with Saige. I want her in my life, but getting traded won’t accomplish that anyway. And if being with her is the distraction that causes a trade to happen, then how do I handle this double-edged sword without either of us getting hurt?

  Lucky for me, Ford flies me and Maksim up to New York and we catch a game there. Being with my friends is a welcome distraction. I love playing hockey, but I love watching it too, especially when you have friends who came up with you on the ice.

  We opted for front row seats obviously, but just to infuriate our friends playing, we’re wearing our own jerseys.

  “So that’s it? You ended it?” Ford asks.

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “You’re being a complete pussy,” Maksim chimes in before taking a swig of his beer.

  “We won, didn’t we? I guess the white wine didn’t have anything to do with it to begin with.”

  They’re both quiet and look at one another. Maksim shakes his head at Ford.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” Maksim says.

  Ford stands. “Go. Go!” He pounds on the glass when Jake, a guy who used to play with us, skates toward the goal and scores. “Woo-hoo!”

  Jake comes over and pounds on the glass when he sees us.

  “The best thing to happen to him was moving away from you three.” Jake’s wife, Bree, comes over with a baby on her hip.

  “Who’s this little one?” Ford touches the little guy’s hand.

  “This is Jake Jr.”

  “You know you miss Florida,” I say.

  Jake and Bree are the couple from high school who made it. They’ve been together since I’ve known Jake and they have two daughters, along with this little man.

  “You came down from your suite to see us?” Maksim says. “I feel honored.”

  “Well, you three in your Fury jerseys stick out in this crowd. Not to mention my lunatic husband keeps giving you attention every time he’s down on this end.”

  We all laugh.

  Jake skates by us again and he’s got the puck now. We all cheer for him, ready to celebrate another goal, but another player comes at him from behind and runs him into the boards. Jake loses his footing and crashes headfirst. The energy in the arena shifts and silence commences when Jake doesn’t get up. I glance at Bree and see that her face is ghost-white.

  “Get up, Jake,” she whispers. “Come on, baby, get up.”

  The more she talks, the more I hear the emotion in her tone. As if on cue, Jake Jr. starts crying, as if he feels the tension filling his mom’s body.

  I hold out my hands. “Give him to me. Go.”

  She hands me the baby and runs over to the bench. The coach lets her climb over as the team doctor goes to Jake on the ice.

  This is what we all fear. That one play will take you out when you think you have it all. We’re all invincible until it happens.

  “Fuck,” Ford says when Jake still doesn’t get up.

  All the players kneel on the ice, and the stretcher comes out after the team doctor waves them over. Jake isn’t moving a muscle, his body still limp on the ice.

  A woman comes down the aisle with Bree and Jake’s two girls. Bree points at us, and I hand over Jake Jr. How can she be dealing with this and still be thinking of what needs to happen with the kids?

  “Thank you,” the woman says when she takes the baby.

  A man hands Bree her purse and the woman screams to Bree, “We’ll meet you at home.”

  I watch Jake get carted off the ice on the stretcher toward Bree. She whispers something to him and kisses his forehead. The crowd claps as they disappear through the opening toward the locker room, and I swallow the bile in my throat.

  Sitting down, I catch my breath as the players return to the ice. Surely the player who hit him from behind is gonna get his ass nailed to the boards after he gets out of the penalty box. But as I watch, I’m struck by how the play goes on. Not that I’m not used to it. I’m just usually involved in the play, having to move on from what happened and concentrate on the present. Nobody is saying let’s call it a night. These fans might care what happens to Jake, but it doesn’t stop them from enjoying the rest of the game.

  The only people whose world just crashed and burned were Jake, Bree, and their little ones. If it was me, it would only be me. I’d be carted off by myself, wake up in the hospital by myself. Sure, maybe my family would come down, but for how long? They have their own lives.

  The more I wrap my head around it, the more a sick feeling sours my stomach. I’ve made the worst mistake of my life. “I have to go.”

  “We can head out,” Ford stands.

  “I need to go home,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to win Saige back.”

  Maksim smiles at Ford. “Now you can tell him.”

  “What?”

  “She was at our last game. Tweetie said she and Tedi were in the nosebleeds, watching you through the first and second period.” Ford claps me on the back. “She’s your lucky charm, man. Not the wine. Saige.”

  I huff and jog up the stairs.

  “You need to do something big to win her back,” Ford says from behind me. “Good
thing I’m your best friend.”

  “I’m his best friend,” Maksim says.

  “I am,” Ford argues.

  I turn and look at them over my shoulder. “You both are, okay?”

  “Who’s gonna be your best man then?” Ford asks. “I should add that we all know how good I look in a tuxedo.”

  I shake my head. “Let me win her back first.”

  One night later…

  It took a lot of brainstorming between the three of us on the plane home to figure out what I needed to do to try to win Saige back after my epic fuckup. Bree messaged us to let us know that Jake would be okay after a few weeks’ rest for a concussion. Knowing he’d make a full recovery set us all at ease.

  I’m sorry for what happened to him, but at the end of the day, I’m grateful because it allowed me to see that the most important thing in your life is who you have in it. And I want Saige in my life, no matter what. Whether I’m playing the best I ever have or like complete shit, I want her there to see me through it all.

  I read back over what I wrote, then exhale a deep breath and press Post.

  This is Aiden Drake. Not my social media manager. I’ve locked her out so she can see the post but not change it. I’m a lot of things to a lot of people. I’m a son, a brother, an uncle, a teammate, a captain, and yes, the center of the Florida Fury. But the role I valued the most was being Saige’s boyfriend. I despise social media, but the woman I love makes a living off of it, which is why I’m doing this here. I fucked up and put my career before the woman I love. I’m sorry, Saige. I plead temporary insanity because from the minute I saw you at that party, I knew you were her. The woman I’ve been waiting for. I waited until you were available, then I shamelessly threw you to the side. I know now that there is no such thing as superstition, but I do believe in fate or destiny. I was with you on the first second of this year and I want to be with you on the last second of my time here on this earth. If you think you can forgive me, there’s a ticket at will call for you, but there’s one hitch. You have to sit in the wives/girlfriends area because that’s where you belong. I hope to see you tonight.