Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)

39. Theo

“You really pulled out all the stops tonight, Yao.” Our captain held out his fist to congratulate me on a couple of tricky saves that had helped us redeem ourselves after losing the first game of the new year.

“Nah. Team effort. You know that.” Sure, I’d worked harder this game than any I’d played all season, but that was because it’d been a monumental struggle to keep my focus on the ice.

“Aw, our darling goalie is so modest, isn’t he, cap’n?” Campbell, who had the talent of being in everyone’s face at any given time, wrapped his sweaty arm around an equally sweaty Michaels and batted his eyelashes innocently. “I’m about to cry or swoon. I can’t tell which.” He let out an overdramatic sigh.

“How about you shower instead, eh? You stink.” Michaels elbowed his alternate captain straight in the gut, with affection.

“That is the aroma of the highest scorer in the game.” Campbell added some extra Southern drawl to his normally much softer accent and stuck his nose up in the air like an affronted gentleman .

“Mmmhmm. Right. Let’s leave Yao to it. You coming out tonight, old man?” Michaels’s eyes glittered with amusement.

“With an invitation like that? No,” I deadpanned.

The truth was, with the post-game adrenaline rapidly draining from my system, I’d be lucky to take care of Giz before falling into Indie’s bed when I got home.

My heart clenched with the thought of not hearing from her at all that day. She hadn’t replied to the two messages I’d sent before and after practice this morning.

“You know I’m kidding, right? You should come to the club with us. It’s going to be a good night.” Michaels’s smile was genuine.

“Oooh, yes! You can watch all the women and men simply drop at my feet, ready to worship me. I can guarantee you’ll learn a thing or twenty-seven.” Campbell winked.

“If the people standing closest to you are dropping at your feet, maybe you should consider washing with soap twice in the shower now. Maybe it’s your ‘aroma’ that’s making them faint,” I threw out, hoping my jab would be enough to assure them I was fine because I had no intention of hitting a club tonight.

Michaels and a couple of teammates howled with laughter. After a moment, Campbell admitted defeat in this latest battle of wits, and they headed off.

I hadn’t been needed for any press tonight, so I was already showered and dressed. I threw the last couple of things into my locker, ready to head out, when a throat cleared beside me.

Andrews stood in the vacant space where the captain and alternate captain had just been.

“What?” I’d used up the last of my manners on my other teammates.

“Whoa, Oscar the Grouch. Just came over to see if you wanted to grab a beer. Something low-key, blow off some steam, you know?” He seemed to find something about my shitty mood funny.

At least someone was having a good time tonight.

Did I want to go out with Andrews? No. Would it help to talk over stuff with someone who knew some of the pressure I was dealing with? Maybe.

Fuck it. “Yeah, fine. Let’s go.”

I dashed off a quick text to the emergency dog walker to ask if she could take Gizmo out since I’d be another hour or so and sent another prayer of thanks to team services for hooking me up.

A few minutes later, we ended up at the same bar where he and Indie had gone on their “date” all those months ago. The jealousy that lingered from that experience had my molars clenching briefly. Even though Indie was my girlfriend, the thought of all the little moments of the last few months slipping through my fingers made me damn glad she hadn’t taken a shine to Andrews.

I must have looked extra worn-out tonight because Andrews headed straight for the bar and came back with two beers in his hands.

“Thanks.” I tipped my bottle to his as he found a table in a quiet area of the bar (wisely far away from the table he’d sat at with Indie).

“So. Talk. You look like someone flushed your pet fish down the toilet. On purpose. I know Indie is seeing her family, so what gives? Trouble in paradise?” He laced his fingers together and leaned forward on the tabletop, ready to listen. “It’ll help to get it off your chest.”

I rubbed my eyes with the hand not holding my beer bottle. I didn’t do this talking-to-my-teammates-like-friends shit.

This was a stupid idea. Just go home and get some sleep. What could you possibly say to this kid across the table that’s going to help anything?

I shrugged in response to my own internal questions and rolled the bottle in my hands between my palms, watching the minuscule bubbles in the liquid make their way to the top .

“No trouble, kid. Indie’s perfect,” I sighed before continuing. “There’s a whole storm of other bullshit that’s come up that I can’t untangle in my mind.”

Andrews nodded encouragingly.

“I haven’t heard from Indie since yesterday,” I admitted. “And it’s fucking with my head. I can’t help wondering what’s going on with her back at home and why she wouldn’t be telling me anything. It’s like I’m being strangled by my own imagination over here.”

“I mean,” Andrews began slowly, “it’s possible that some bad shit is going down for her. But every moment I’ve spent with her makes me think she can hold her own, you know?” He grinned as if to imply, “Am I wrong?”

We both knew Indie was a force both at work and personally. More than a force.

“Yeah, you’re right there. But why wouldn’t she say anything to me about it?” Discomfort had infiltrated every cell in my body. Indie had opened up to me slowly but surely over the past months. It seemed like a step backward to not hear from her, especially since we’d said we loved each other.

I knew rationally that she was busy and likely overwhelmed. My heart, however, wouldn’t feel right again until she told me she was okay.

“From our conversations about you,” he said and waggled his eyebrows playfully. “Yep. You heard me. She respects you and your career a lot, man. God knows the entire organization has never seen someone as dedicated to his team and his game as you. It leaks out your pores. Maybe she thinks she’s doing just that by handling her shit over there so you can concentrate on hockey. It’s not like we have a grueling travel schedule over the next week or so, right?” He smirked.

News flash: we had a grueling schedule that was going to exhaust us all .

My mouth flattened into a grim line, which Andrews took as agreement with his statement.

“Right. So, knowing Indie, it’s not like she’s avoiding you, right? I mean, even if she is, it’s not like you can put yourself in front of her and demand she talk to you,” he said, followed by a chuckle, as if the idea was ridiculous. “Hell, we’re leaving for Dallas tomorrow night.”

His mention of tomorrow night’s flight went right over my head. My mind focused on the idea that I catch a plane to see Indie.

Did she think she had to handle anything, big or small, on her own anymore if she didn’t want to? Did she think that she needed to keep parts of her life away from me so I could concentrate on hockey?

The weight that had been sitting in my stomach all day turned into a wrecking ball.

God, I don’t want her believing there is anything more important than her.

I stood abruptly, leaving my beer basically untouched. Andrews’s shocked face became wary.

“Shit, Theo. What did I say? I didn’t mean any offense.”

I could barely hear him over the plan forming in my mind. His wide eyes watched me as I walked around the table and gave him an absent pat on the shoulder.

“You’re good, kid. Thanks. You helped a lot.” I tossed the words his way as I moved past where he sat, headed for the exit to the bar.

I had a Chihuahua to pick up and a plane to catch.

On the street outside the bar, I pulled up my phone and hit Ray’s number. When I heard the call connect, I started speaking before he had a chance to say hello.

“Listen, Ray, I don’t have long, but…” Once I started rattling off my plans, everything else just fell away.