Hot Shot (Hot as Puck Book 2)

9. Blake

I don’t make breakfast.

Instead I lock myself away in my room and go over countless files of stats and personal information on the players on the potential Rogues shortlist.

Our plan is to move through the shortlist and once we’ve exhausted that, start on the longer one we compiled in the event we can’t get who we believe will be the best fit for the Rogues and have holes in the roster to fill.

It’s an attempt to ignore the turmoil of emotions my encounter with Bran caused. A defense mechanism.

I didn’t mean to tell him I love him. Shouldn’t have told him. But it’s hard to keep the truth from coming out when I see him struggling so much. My heart aches with the need to soothe him. To take away his hurt and release him from the prison he’s put himself in. In spite of the pain doing so could cause me.

I’ve heard him moving around on the other side of my closed door but he hasn’t knocked and I haven’t gone out to see what he’s doing.

I’m frightened another interaction like this morning will have me packing my bag and leaving.

The urge is there, riding that see-saw of emotions I’ve been on since I arrived.

Leave.

Stay.

Leave.

Stay.

It’s hard to distinguish my true desire when fear of the known and unknown has me in fight or flight mode.

The instinctive knowledge I once had of Bran is gone. Tainted by the abrupt end to our relationship, by the pain and distrust his actions caused.

I’ve never struggled with a decision the way I am now. My instincts, the gut feelings that have seen me through nail biting hockey games, through the launch of Rogue sportswear and now the Rogue NHL team, have deserted me.

I’m not getting anywhere with my brain and emotions going round and round in circles.

I’m tempted to call someone. Who is anyone’s guess, but I need to bounce my thoughts, my ideas on how to handle Bran—my relationship with him—the offer to play for the Rogues, off someone, and I can’t do that with just anyone.

Whomever I call has to be impartial and know our history, be discreet…

I reach for my phone and hit Mom’s contact before my brain catches up with my actions.

Of course.

I don’t know why I didn’t think of her first. She’s the only person I can safely have this discussion with. Years ago that would have been someone else, the very person I need to talk about.

The call barely makes it through the first ring before she answers.

“Is this a, I’m five minutes out, keep Dad busy call, or a can you find something to placate Dad with when I tell him I’m not stopping by call?”

Laughing, I say, “Neither. It’s a girl who needs her mom’s advice call.”

“My advice? This is new.”

“It is not! I ask you for advice all the time.”

“Not about hockey… Oh.” Her voice takes on a hushed tone. “Is he bad?”

“No. Contrary to his last days in the public spotlight, he is not drunk off his ass.”

“He doesn’t have to be fall-down drunk to be bad.”

“Okay, I’ll accept that. Physically, he’s good. From what I can see, he’s taken care of himself well in the last few years. Probably better than he had before he came here to hide. Mentally…” I can’t keep the sigh in. “I don’t know. He said a few things last night that have me questioning everything we know. The reasons we thought he did what he did, why he’s here.”

“Do we really know anything? Branton removed himself from all our lives and other than the occasional glimpse in the media before the baby was born, mainly the games he played and of course the tragedy that unfolded, we don’t really know all that much about that time in his life.”

“True. But what he said makes me think everything we do know is a lie.”

“And what about that bothers you? That he lied? That you don’t know the truth? That he stopped confiding in you?”

I mull that over. Roll each question around to see how it makes me feel. “All of it? Maybe that last part more. I don’t know, Mom, that’s why I called you.”

“Okay, then let’s talk it out. I know you told me you two never crossed the line of friendship but it was obvious both of you wanted to.”

“We had plans.”

“What plans?”

“To establish our careers. First.”

“I don’t understand why either of you thought you had to be single to do that.”

“We both had busy training schedules, games, and we lived in different cities.”

“That would have been hard to navigate but I watched you both grow up. I know the two of you would have been able to make it work. If you really wanted to.”

“I guess we didn’t want it bad enough. Maybe it was never meant to happen the way we thought.”

“A lot of things in life don’t happen the way we think they will, Blake. It doesn’t stop us from living, from working hard, from going after what we want. You’ve done it before, have the failures and successes to show for it. You just need to decide what you want now.”

“Bran.”

“For the Rogues.”

“Yes…”

“I hear that pause. You want that and more. The question you need to ask yourself is are you prepared for the hard work and possible failure, because if you’re calling me, I’m assuming you already know it’s going to be hard and you might not succeed.”

“He hates himself. Thinks we should all hate him. Thinks he doesn’t deserve our support or love.”

“He needs to see a therapist. Can you convince him to come here? Your father isn’t qualified but with his years of captaining and coaching hockey teams I think he’d be able to help Branton get his head straightened out a bit and we can see about getting him in to see someone while you’re here. Have them come to the house so no one knows.”

“I want to come there. It’s what I planned to do when I came up here. And you’re right, I think whatever we do, outside of our circle, it needs to be kept quiet, away from prying eyes and possible media exposure.”

“When do you think you’ll get here? You’re in Parry Sound, right?”

“Bran wants to stay here for a week. He said he’ll sign the contract to play for the Rogues if I stay with him here for a week first.”

“Do you want to do that?”

“I think I should. I don’t want to leave here without at least working out where we stand with each other. Outside of the Rogues.”

“And I think you have to do that before you can let him sign that contract.”

Mom is right, as usual. “I was afraid of that.”

Her laughter puts a smile on my face. “You just wanted me to tell you what you already know.”

“No. I didn’t think about therapy until you mentioned it.”

“I notice you’re not arguing the rest of it.”

“I shouldn’t have called. Could have just talked to the wall.”

“You can always call and use me as a sounding board, Blake. I like it when you do. It’s a change from all you kids going to Dad every time you need an ear or support.”

“It isn’t like that.”

“Oh, I know. He’s the hockey expert. It would have been stupid for any of you to come to me for advice on that and I didn’t raise stupid kids.”

I can hear the grin in her voice and a rush of love fills me. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, baby. But let me remind you of the other kind of kids I raised.”

A grin stretches my lips. “What other kind did you raise?”

“The brave kind. The fly in the face of fear kind. The kind who aren’t afraid to get things wrong. The kind that know a win isn’t guaranteed but go after it anyway.”

“I have to fix me and Bran before I can sign him to the team.”

“Yes. And you knew that without me telling you but I’m so glad you called.”

“I have to agree to this week. Spend the time with him and tear off every bandage until all our wounds are aired.”

“Yes, if you want to go with that gruesome analogy, that’s exactly what you have to do. If you can fix your friendship, whatever form it takes, great; if not, you have to decide if you can work with him as a player on the team you’re coaching.”

“And if I can’t fix us and I can’t do the second?”

“Then you have to let him go for good this time.”

Mom’s words sit heavy in my chest, the weight making it hard to draw in breath.

I thought I’d let Bran go before, sure I was forced to, but the result was the same. He wasn’t in my life. It was easy to forget the pain when he wasn’t there as a daily reminder of what was no longer an option.

Can I live without him? Yes.

Can I live with him around and not have him? I don’t know.

Everything in me has always believed we could fix what he broke if only we had the chance, but with the revelations he’s hinted, at I’m no longer so sure.

Whatever happens, Mom is right.

If we can’t fix us and I can’t work with him afterward, then I’ll have no choice.

I’ll have to let him go for good this time.