36. leo
THIRTY-SIX
leo
B rendan storms through the front door of our house while Brax, Tate, Vale, and I are halfway through breakfast. Vale’s on a rare three-day break from his team in Tampa, so the gang’s all here. It feels good to have everyone together again, even if I’ve hardly had time to see them.
“I’ve got news for Leo,” Brendan says. “Coach got Uncle Rafael to approve your leave of absence.”
“What?” I say, dropping my spoon in my cereal. “Did you do this?” I ask, my gaze snapping to Brendan as he sinks into the seat across from me.
“Wasn’t me. I’m just the conditioning coach,” Brendan replies, his tone casual as he reaches for a slice of toast. He looks over at Tate. “Was it you?”
Tate pauses mid-bite of his massive bowl of Lucky Charms. “How would I convince Coach to do that?”
“Because you’re his favorite,” Brax chimes in, not even looking up from his plate of scrambled eggs.
Vale leans back, pointing at me with his spoon. “My guess? It was an inside job. Perhaps... Victoria?”
I shake my head quickly. “No way. She’s ticked at me. I haven’t heard from her for two days.”
Brendan’s head snaps up, eyes locked on me. “What idiotic thing did you do this time?”
“Told her to go to Seattle,” I say. “And then said goodbye.”
All the heads at the table turn my way, incredulous.
“You. Did. What ?” Tate asks, as if I’ve just committed a crime against humanity.
“She wasn’t going to leave, so I...” My voice falters as I look around the table. “What?” I shrug defensively.
Tate shakes his head, setting down his spoon like he’s launching into a you should know better lecture. “Look, I might not know much about women?—”
Brendan snorts. “Except fictional women in books.”
Tate frowns at Brendan. “Would you let me finish?” He turns back to me. “But I do know one thing—you don’t tell them what to do.”
Brax lifts an eyebrow. “Especially Victoria.”
“Exactly,” Tate says, pointing his spoon at me. “Every time I even think about telling Lauren the PR Queen what to do, she just...”
The door swings open, and Lauren strides into the house, carrying her signature travel mug and looking like a Harley Davidson model. She normally wears her hair back in a tight ponytail and a blazer, but today, she’s sporting a black leather motorcycle jacket, her hair loosely curled around her shoulders. She pauses, giving Tate a pointed look.
“She just what , Tate?” Lauren arches a perfectly sculpted brow as she perches a hand on her hip.
Tate stiffens, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Uh, nothing. I was just saying how I admire your independence.”
Lauren smirks, clearly not buying it. “Good. Because the last man who thought he could tell me what to do is probably still googling how to write an apology.” Then she looks Tate over with a frown. “Are you ready for the photo shoot? You look kind of buttoned up in that shirt. We need to change that.” She takes her finger, and with one quick flick, opens the top button of his charcoal dress shirt. Then she squints one eye, assessing her work. “Better. Might have to undo a few more.”
Tate glances down at his shirt, and then back up at Lauren. “Do I have to actually ride the motorcycle?”
She rolls her eyes. “For the last time, yes. I didn’t bring my Harley over here for nothing.”
“Wait, Sheriff is riding a Harley?” Vale sputters through his laugh. “Is she trying to change your image from grumpy cop to biker dude? Good luck with that. ”
“It’s for social media,” Tate says glumly. “She’s trying to make me more...”
“Fun,” Lauren says succinctly with a gleam in her eye. “Come on, Sheriff, time to shake off that buttoned-up reputation of yours.”
Tate lets out a defeated sigh, muttering, “Pretty sure this is how bad decisions begin.”
Lauren tosses him a smile over her shoulder. “Only the fun ones. Now, follow me, we have work to do.”
Tate gathers his breakfast dishes, dropping them in the kitchen before following her. “Like I said, you can’t tell women what to do.”
Lauren stops in the door before she fixes her gaze on me. “Leo, for what it’s worth, PR’s not just about spin—it’s about timing. Don’t wait too long to talk with Victoria.” Then she lifts an eyebrow and heads out of the room.
Brendan leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “So, Ego, you told Victoria to leave, and now you’re sitting here eating cereal like that was a solid plan.”
“I’m not saying you’re an idiot, Leo, but...” Brax sets his coffee mug down and shakes his head. “Actually, no, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Look, she wasn’t going to leave,” I argue, feeling like no one’s on my side. “She was going to stay for me, and I couldn’t let her do that.”
Vale raises an eyebrow. “So, instead of talking to her like a normal human being, you decided to martyr yourself and leave her with a weak ultimatum?”
“It wasn’t an ultimatum,” I say defensively.
“Right,” Brendan says, leaning his tattooed arms on the table. “You didn’t tell her to go, then walk away from any discussion, essentially slamming the door on the possibility of figuring it out together?”
I glare at him. “We tried. She didn’t know what she wanted, so I took myself out of the equation. I just made the decision easier for her.”
Vale shakes his head. “You didn’t make it easier, Leo. You made it complicated. Women don’t want someone to decide for them. They want someone who’s willing to stand there in the mess and figure it out with them.”
I stare at them. “What am I supposed to do? Stop her before she leaves and tell her I was wrong?”
“Not a bad plan,” Vale says, smirking.
“She’s worth it, isn’t she?” Brendan asks. “You’ve got nothing to lose, Leo. If you love her, you’ve got to fight for her. That’s one lesson I learned in the Marines. Some things are worth the risk.”
“Fine,” I say, standing and pushing my chair back. “I’ll talk to her. But if this goes sideways, I’m blaming all of you.” I point at them.
As I grab my keys and head for the door, I hear Brendan shout, “And for the love of hockey, try not to screw this up!”
As hard as it is to admit, I’m an idiot. Not just because I forced Victoria to leave, but because I wanted to prove something to myself too. Mainly that I’m an unlovable jerk who isn’t worth the sacrifice. Vulnerability? Yeah, that’s not exactly my strong suit.
Leo
We need to talk. You around today?
I wait for what feels like an eternity for Victoria’s response—but is actually more like five minutes because I’m horribly impatient, and now I’m worried I screwed up big-time. It’s only been two days, but I haven’t seen her at the rink. She hasn’t even sent me any of her cute little text messages with emojis that should make me cringe but actually make me grin like a fool.
After staring at my screen, willing the text bubble to pop up, I head to her apartment. If she won’t respond, I’ll track her down until she has to talk to me. When I arrive at Bellgate, I knock on her door and notice her apartment is strangely silent.
A soft click sounds behind me, and I turn to see Delilah stepping out of her apartment. “Leo, are you looking for Victoria? She’s not there.”
“Oh, hi, Delilah. Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“She left for Seattle.” Then she frowns slightly. “You didn’t know?”
“She... left ?” The words slam into me, stealing my breath. I know it’s what I told her to do, but I didn’t expect she’d leave without telling me.
Delilah’s eyes widen. “I almost forgot!” Then she smacks her forehead lightly. “She made you brownies. Want one?”
Normally, I’d politely decline since I just ate breakfast, but the fact that Victoria made them for me—when she hardly could make a box of mac and cheese a few months ago—means I can’t say no.
Delilah invites me inside her apartment, and I notice a bag of cheese puffs next to Big Bertha’s cage. “Victoria left those cheese puffs for Big Bertha as a little departing gift. He’s a bit upset about her being gone, you know.”
Well, that makes two of us.
Bertha looks me over with his beady eyes like he’s blaming me and then squawks, “Meathead!”
“Yeah, I already know,” I mutter under my breath as I feed him a cheese puff.
Delilah fills two plates with brownies and carries them over to the living room. She motions for me to sit. “Victoria made these the night she told me she was leaving. Said she had to do this for her career. And I told her I hoped she knew what she was doing.”
I look up, holding my fork mid-bite. “Why wouldn’t she?”
She settles in her recliner. “Because she’s giving up so much for this dream she doesn’t really want anymore. Don’t get me wrong, she thinks she still does, but she’s changed since she started dating you. She’s finally happy now... and I think that has something to do with your relationship.”
She takes a bite of the brownie on her plate and chews it thoughtfully. “Plus, it’s not like that Peter guy is anything to look at. Not that she would—she’s too loyal for that. And he certainly wouldn’t be a good kisser. His big nose would probably get in the way.”
I snort-laugh. “He’d better not even think about it.”
“Oh, honey, she’d kick him where the sun don’t shine if he tried.”
I laugh. “You’re probably right.” Victoria doesn’t take crap from any man. It’s one of her endearing traits. “Delilah, in case she didn’t mention it...” I clear my throat. “It’s my fault she left. I thought she’d always regret not taking this opportunity. What was I thinking? I’m a...”
Big Bertha swears at me from across the room.
Man, that bird’s got impeccable timing. “I was going to say idiot ,” I finish, before giving the bird a side-eye. “I already know I messed up.”
Delilah studies me for a moment. “She promised to come back to get her things—in case you didn’t know.”
“Did she say when?” I ask, feeling hopeful.
Delilah shrugs. “I don’t know. But she left me a key. And I don’t have any need for it.” She sets her plate down and grabs a key hanging on a plastic hook. “Why don’t you take this?”
She drops it in my hand. All I can do is stare at it like it’s Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. Not that it will bring her back, but it’s... something .
“Just in case,” she says with an encouraging smile.
At least somebody’s on my side. I can’t say as much for Big Bertha.
“Thank you,” I say, rolling the key in my hand.
“Of course, honey. By the way, I heard about Tina. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d be happy to.”
“Really?” I ask, my eyebrows lifting. Maybe she could help Tina, so I wouldn’t have to take a leave of absence. I want to be on the ice more than anything, but I feel conflicted about leaving Tina alone so much.
“Wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t mean it,” Delilah says. “Besides, I don’t have anything to do now that Victoria’s gone.”
“Well, Tina could use some company. She’s slowly getting better, but it’s not good for her to be by herself all the time. I asked for a leave of absence, but I don’t know how long Coach will let meoff.”
“Consider it done,” she says without a second thought, taking my empty plate. “No way I’m letting the Crushers lose because you’re not playing.”
“You’re a Crushers fan?” I ask incredulously. The woman who looks like a Golden Girl and spoils her bird?
She leans toward me and lowers her voice. “I even submitted my secret crush to the Crushin’ on the Crushers fan site.” Then she gives me a wink. “Can’t tell you who the lucky guy is.”
So the social media plan is working... which reminds me, I still haven’t asked Victoria about whether that secret note about me was from her.
“I’m also giving you the rest of the brownies,” Delilah says, hurrying back to the kitchen to wrap up the remaining treats. “Pass a few along to Tina, would you?”
I stop in the door. “Why would you do this for me?”
She smiles, like the answer is obvious. “That’s what neighbors do. If you’re special to Victoria, then you’re special to me. That girl helped me more times than I can count.”
“She did?” No wonder Victoria felt like she couldn’t leave Delilah. They were friends in that magical way that can’t be explained when two people hit it off.
“She’d help with things around the house,” Delilah says as she wraps up the brownies in so many layers of plastic wrap, I’m going to need an exacto knife to cut through. “And sometimes she just showed up because she thought I was lonely. But really, I suspect she was the one who needed company. Well, before you showed up.” Delilah shoves the brownies into my hands before leaving. “I’d love it if you could stop by again sometime. Keep me and Big Bertha company?”
“Sure,” I promise. Victoria would want me to.
As I head out into the hallway, I suddenly stop. Instead of going downstairs, I turn around and walk toward Victoria’s apartment, driven by some instinct, like my feet can only go in one direction—toward her.
I take the golden key and open the door to her apartment. Instantly her scent washes over me, the smell of sweet strawberries, kisses on the beach, and dancing on the ice.
My eyes land on the black jacket she wore for our Pro Ice Gear commercial hanging from the back of a chair, and I’m nearly floored by the memory of that kiss on the couch during the pretend proposal. Or in my case, the proposal I wanted so badly, I didn’t even have to act. No wonder I’ve watched it a hundred times since Desmond sent the rough cut to me.
Next to the jacket sits a paper with tally marks on it. Dozens and dozens of lines fill the page. I pick it up, and then I see my name at the top. Below that, the scribbled words of a note I recognize—the same one anonymously left on the fan site.
Leo, you’ve always been the one who could make me feel special, even when I didn’t believe it myself.
And that’s when I know what I need to do.