Friendzone Hockey (Heartbreak Hockey #4)

Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

NOW

Same Day

Dash

I —very apologetically—cancel the other appointments I’ve made, since I have a wedding venue now. I have a wedding venue. This is happening.

Oh god, this is happening. I don’t think I’m supposed to feel dread. Why do I feel dread?

A warm hand quickly takes mine, holding it tightly. Stace. “Take a slow breath, sweetheart.”

Stacey sounds the most Canadian whenever he says sweetheart. Or maybe it’s just when he says it to me.

“I’m fine. Just the hangover,” I lie. “Today was a lot.” It’s all a fucking lot. I spent forever convincing myself I was delusional. I could feel him. I still feel him. But now the signals are muddled because I can’t trust what I’m feeling.

He did that. And he meant to do it in the beginning. Clearly, it changed, but he didn’t fucking tell me.

“And I didn’t make it easier. I’m sorry, Dash. I … well the truth is, I was the one getting jealous. The Nolan-Smith thing set me off.”

“It did?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t help remembering our pact. You know the one.”

“If we weren’t married by the time I turned thirty we’d marry each other?”

“Yeah, that one. I couldn’t help picturing it for just a second—especially with everything about to change. I didn’t want to lose you. In a way, you’ve kind of been mine. Now, I’ll have to share you with Syd.”

I rub circles into his hand with my thumb.

For the longest time, I vowed I wasn’t gonna marry anyone else, and as soon as I turned twenty-nine, I’d finally snatch him up. I’d aimlessly date people to prove to myself and Stacey that I could date more than just Stacey. When we were finally together, he’d know I wanted him, that it wasn’t just the broken parts of me who did.

But then something awful happened. The more men I dated, the more I realized Stacey was right.

I need Stacey in a way that’s beyond what’s considered normal or healthy.

I didn’t want anyone else but him. I couldn’t want anyone else but him. Know what I did? I compared them to Stacey, is what I did. It messed with my head. I replayed every interaction with Stacey, I analyzed my actions. I depended on Stacey way too much. Last season away from him was hell. The further I felt from Stacey, the more I withered. I almost broke up with Syd because of it, but breaking up with yet another man because I couldn’t get over Stacey was the last thing I wanted to do. I had to make things work with Syd. He was the only man I’d ever felt anything close to love for. I knew I’d be happy with Syd.

I need to forget this fever dream we’ve indulged in. I need to move on. Just like with everything else, I’ll heal away from this crippling codependence I have with Stacey. It’ll hurt like fuck, but over time, with some distance, these intense feelings for Stacey will finally fade away.

A renewed burst of hate for Robin surfaces. He’s the wedge forever between us. Stacey won’t forsake his morals, and I wouldn’t want him to, even if I don’t agree that we fall within their definition anymore. If he knew how much I still need him, how much I’m irrevocably tied to him like the lost puppy that followed him home all those years ago, he’d be backing off anyway. I promise you that.

It’s as it should be. I need to grow the fuck up and move the fuck on.

“You were right earlier, Stace. Syd’s not gonna like our kind of friendship one bit. Things will have to change, but I think we can still make this work. I don’t wanna lose you either. I liked being Mr. Alderchuck for a day.”

He nods. “It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

That’s enough to wrinkle my nose. “Why do you figure?” I don’t know why I’m so defensive.

“Our friendship spark is strong, and we have to admit it’s more than a typical friendship, I think it’s sometimes fooled me into thinking we could be more than that. But spark doesn’t mean it’s enough of a spark to be anything in the relationship realm. I suspect if we had tried, it would have been something that fizzled out quickly. Don’t you agree?”

Why can’t I help but feel he’s doing it again? Downplaying us because he wants me to have what I want.

But even if he is, all my feelings are too much of a jumbled mess to unravel in a few minutes. For all I know, we never had spark, and I’m just a raging narcissist who liked the attention Stacey gave me. Stacey was the attention I could trust. I could dive into it, knowing I was safe.

Taking my hand away, I use it to rub over my knuckles, self-soothing, trying to erase the past from my body without his help for once.

“You thinking about Robin?”

“Now there’s a name I could do without ever hearing again.”

“Sorry, but I haven’t seen you do that in a long while.” He points toward my hands.

“Not Robin exactly, but remnants from that time. You know I’m as over it as I’ll ever be. I was thinking that I was sorry for letting you give me all your attention. You could have been giving it to someone else.”

“Let me?” he says, raising a brow. “Did you just meet me, Dash Nolan? I know I can be a bit of a tender heart with you, but I’ve always been a man fiercely of his own mind. If my attention was on you that’s where I wanted it to be.”

I get another one of those delicious shivers. Has his voice always been able to reach that low of an octave? My breathing gets all funny again.

Stacey saying we don’t have spark? He’s fucking kidding himself. We would have lit up the whole world with our spark.

W e arrive at The Wicklow, and Stacey kills the engine, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Stay there,” he says.

“Whaaa…?”

He’s out, scaling the massive truck and kicking the driver-side door shut with his foot. There’s a loud skid-thud above me, and he appears on the passenger side, opening my door. He extends his hand.

I take it, letting him pull me out of the vehicle, doing a double take. “Did you just climb over the truck to open my door?”

“Yup. You’re Mr. Alderchuck for the day. I open the door for my husband.”

The corners of my lips twitch as I fight a smile. I don’t want to love that as much as I do. He doesn’t let go of my hand once he has it, leading me into the restaurant. Guess The Alderchucks hold hands. Fine by me. I lace my fingers with his for a better grip just in case he thinks he’s letting go.

Dad’s in his office. He’s not alone. Dirk’s there, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. Um, weird.

“This a family meeting?” I ask.

“Sorta,” Dad says. He’s wearing the torn jeans that annoy the fuck outta Dirk. He says it should be illegal for anyone past forty to wear stuff like that. He’s also in a tank top that’s damp with sweat, showing off all his tattoos. Was he working today?

We sit in the brown leather chairs in front of the desk, hands still clasped. Dad slides a paper toward us, one with three tell-tale folds. It must’ve come from a skinny envelope. Stacey snatches it before I do as if it’s a viper come to bite me.

“Stace!” I tug my hand away, making a feeble attempt to rip it from his hands. I don’t want to risk ripping the paper, so I sulk while he reads, his face growing darker and darker all the time.

“No. What the fuck? How?” he says.

“Can somebody tell me what’s going on?”

They confer between the three of them, and Dad nods toward Stacey.

“Yeah, fine, I’ll tell him, but I’m telling him my way.” He turns toward me, curling to fingers in a “c’mere” gesture. “Sit with me, Mr. Alderchuck?”

If he’s offering, then fuck yeah. Our pact to stop being us can start later. Or never. I jump into his lap. Dirk and Dad eye us—probably mostly because he just called me Mr. Alderchuck—but don’t say anything.

“Read this,” he says with his arms around me.

I grip the letter. It’s from the Department of Justice's Victim Services Unit. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I thought he had at least another year.”

We always knew Robin would be out of jail eventually, but we had no contingency plan.

“Good behavior, I guess,” Dad says.

I lean against Stacey. Yeah, okay, Dad knew what he was doing. In his arms, nothing can hurt me. Not even my own mind. “What do we do?”

“Hope he doesn’t relocate here, for starters,” Dad says. “We’ve got a little bit of time. I’ve been reaching out to the prosecutor every so often, so I got this information with enough time that you’ll be long into the hockey season before he gets out. We can formulate a plan. I’ll follow you around with a shotgun if I have to. He’s not getting you again, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad. Hopefully, he’s lost interest. What are the chances he’s not mad at me for sending him to jail?”

No one answers that. I’m gonna be sick.

W e don’t stay at The Wicklow long. I need time to come to terms with Robin’s release before we plan something, though I suspect that’s going to be done for me. My crew of found family and my dad have always taken over during situations like this, don’t see why that would change now.

I’m stronger now, I probably could participate, but is it okay if I don’t want to? It fucking exhausts me and they’re better at it than I am. In the past, I would have felt guilty about not being able enough. Now, I’m happy for them to take the wheel if they want to.

Stacey takes me for a Frappuccino and then down to the beach. He refuses to stop his ridiculous “open the door for Mr. Alderchuck” bit, scaling his Hummer, and Spiderman crawling across the top to let me out.

“Feel better?” he says when we’re back in the truck after a long walk on the sea wall. I was better, but we’ll be home soon and the magic of today will vanish. We’ll start our new lives with a regular friendship that I have zero idea how to navigate.

“A lot better. You always know what to say.”

He tossed the idea of hiring a bodyguard into the ring, and that’s not a bad idea. It would be weird, but until we know more, it brings me a bit of comfort. Rhett’ll know people for that, and I was proud of myself for pointing out that maybe Rhett’s mayor dad might be willing to help us in some way as well. Rhett and Logan keep saying he owes them, and they’re happy to lend his services to the crew.

“Since we’re done with appointments early, you wanna have an Indiana Jones marathon like old times?” he suggests.

Would I? Hell, yeah. It would go a long way to getting rid of this icky feeling that’s painting my insides like tar. “You don’t have to pick up Thing One and Thing Two?”

“I should eventually, but I … I want more time with you.”

“Good. Me too.” My heart settles. It doesn’t have to say goodbye just yet—he knows how I feel about goodbye. Stacey must be feeling the same thing I am if he’s trying to hang on. It’s nice to know I’m not alone with the feeling.

The silver Lexus comes into view as soon as we approach the drive. Syd’s car? But he wasn’t due home until the weekend. He’s holding the largest bouquet of red roses I’ve ever seen.

“Yuck,” I say without thinking.

Stacey lifts an imperious brow. “He doesn’t know how much you hate red roses?”

“I’m sure I’ve mentioned it.”

“Did you say why?”

No. I don’t answer, but my face says it all. I haven’t trusted him with the Robin topic yet. Stacey turns the vehicle off and pauses.

He pauses for the same reason I have. I wanna pause the whole world so I’ll have more time with Stacey, as we are, without us having to change. Syd showing up like this is the equivalent of time getting ripped away, stolen from us. It’s not fucking fair. We were supposed to have a final goodbye.

I should be happy to see my fiancé, but I’m not. I’m fucking pissed that he’s here unannounced.

“You’re absolutely sure you’re okay?” he says. “Don’t lie to me, Nolan.”

“I am. Jeez.” Those roses don’t help, but I’m not going to spin out.

“Then you should go with Syd. We can have the marathon another time,” Stacey says.

We can, but it won’t be the same. It won’t be us -us, it’ll be “new us”, and I want my last movie marathon as us.

“No. He’s the one who barged in. He’s not ruining our plans, Stace.”

“Dash—”

But I’m already climbing out of the truck, beelining it for poor, unsuspecting Syd. “What are you doing here?” I accuse.

He flinches. Syd’s the ruggedly handsome business type. There’s silver peppered through his dark hair. He’s got a strong jawline and firm shoulders. He’s always a force. But I just made the guy flinch with a look. Fuck. I’m an asshole.

“Today was the day with the Newland’s appointment, wasn’t it? I busted my ass to get back here for it. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You, ah, you missed it.” I swallow down the choking sensation in my throat. What am I doing? I got caught up in … in what? A weird-ass possessiveness thing I have with my best friend? This is my man. The guy who moved to Kelowna just to be with me. The guy who looks like he’s been up since dawn trying to get here for our wedding appointment. Tiredness pinches the minor wrinkling around his eyes.

I’m a fucking monster.

And I get it now. What Stacey was saying. This man’s gonna be my husband and a certain amount of loyalty goes with that, above and beyond friendships.

Even one like mine and Stacey’s.

“Did I interrupt something?”

I look around for Stacey, thinking of reintroducing them again. They’ve met before, briefly. But Stacey’s … gone. He could have gone around the back and entered the house that way, but I know he hasn’t.

He left.

It’s over. We’re over. It’s done.

“No. Nothing at all. I’m glad you’re here.” I race into Syd’s arms and let him hold me. They’re good arms. Comfort-filled arms. Arms I love.

But they’re wrong.

I take his hand. “I kinda sorta might have chosen our wedding venue. And put a massive deposit on it. Don’t kill me.”

“I already told you, Dash, pick whatever you want. I’ll be happy enough getting to say I do to the most beautiful man on Earth.”

Maybe. Or maybe when he hears what I have to tell him, he’ll never want to speak to me again.