Chapter Twenty Four
CARTER
“Hey, Soph?” I call out, leaving the bathroom with a towel around my waist. “Have you seen my…” The room is empty.
“Sophie?” The sheets in the bed are tossed around, and Sophie’s stuff is nowhere to be seen. Worry fills my chest. It’s not like her to just take off without a word, but maybe she sent me a message.
My phone goes off on my nightstand, and relief fills me. That’s probably her, telling me that there’s an emergency at the flower shop or something. But when I pick it up , rage fills me.
Damnit, damnit, damnit!
My phone is filled with messages, but they aren’t from Sophie.
Fucking Nicole.
The most recent one is front and center.
Nicole: Hope you’re keeping the bed warm for me.
Sighing, I open the phone to read the rest of the messages.
Nicole: I miss you baby
Nicole: Can’t wait to see you
Nicole: I need to feel your hands on me
Nicole: I’ll be there to see you soon
Then a fucking ridiculous selfie of her biting her lip.
The messages are misleading and overly familiar, and absolutely make it look like we have something going on. I immediately dial Sophie’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Hi, you’ve reached Sophie Hartwell. If this is in regards to Hart’s Flowers, please call ? —”
Shit! I dial again.
“Hi, you’ve reached So ? —”
Fucking damnit!
I try again, but don’t stay on past the “Hi”. She must have turned her phone off. I don’t think she was going through my phone, but if the sound of messages woke her up, I have no doubt she would have gone to turn off the volume and saw these messages instead. I shoot off a text that I hope she doesn’t just ignore when she turns her phone back on.
Me: Sophie, I can explain. Please call me.
Me: I know that’s what everyone says, but I mean it. There is NOTHING going on with anyone else. You’re the only one.
The urge to chase her down and explain that Nicole is just a puck bunny that can’t take no for an answer is nearly overwhelming, but I have to leave for that meeting in Boston with Jake, and if we miss that then everything will go to shit.
Gut churning, I hurry and get dressed, trying not to think about how devastated Sophie must feel. She thinks I betrayed her.
My phone pings again, and I swear, if it’s another text from Nicole…
Jake: I’ll meet you outside in ten minutes.
Exhaling through my nose, I toss my phone back on the bed and finish getting ready. I need to focus. If I can just get through this meeting and sign with Boston, I can ensure that I stay in state and be with Sophie. Then, I can apologize when I get back tonight.
It’s not perfect, and not finding her right now is killing me, but if I want any chance of us being together long-term, I have to land this contract.
I’m nearly to my car when the sound of clacking high heels makes me look up.
Fucking Nicole.
Bleach blond hair, green eyes, and a body like a stick. She’s in a skirt that’s way too short, and she looks at me with heavily made up eyes in a way that I’m sure she thinks is sultry.
“Carter, baby, I missed you!” She approaches me with open arms and I take a step back.
“Nicole, what the fuck are you doing here?” I don’t keep the venom from my voice.
“Where else would I be?” Her voice is sickly sweet as she tries to latch onto my arm. “I’ve been waiting for you,” she coos, and my stomach drops. No woman besides Sophie should touch me like this.
My hand rips hers off my arm, and I ignore her sound of protest. “Lay off, Nicole. This is getting old. I’ve made it clear multiple times that I’m not interested and things are never going to happen between us again.”
“But Carter…” She juts her lip out.
“No buts. You’re entering stalker territory, and if you don’t get the hell out of Ivy Glen, my lawyer will draw up a restraining order.” It’s a low blow, but I can’t take it anymore. I’ve basically been running from this girl since a very drunken, stupid mistake in college my sophomore year.
Her face contorts in anger. “Don’t worry, Carter. I know that I’m what you want. You’ll see.”
“Fucking delusional,” I mutter, walking away right as Jake comes out to the parking lot. His eyes widen when he sees Nicole, but he ignores her as we get into my car and drive away, leaving her fuming.
“Shit.” Jake lets out a breath. “What the fuck is Nicole doing here?”
“Fuck if I know, but she’s already risking my chance at getting Sophie back for real.” Just the memory of her finding those texts sends my stomach roiling again. I have to nail this meeting. If Boston offers us a shitty contract, I’m half-tempted to take it at this point just to stay with Sophie.
Jake shakes his head. “She’s crazy. I bet she saw you on the news for the rec center and that’s how she knew where you were. The number of games she showed up to last season alone was intense. We need to get her off your back for good.”
Easier said than done. I’m going to file a restraining order first thing on Monday and hopefully, that will help. I’ll block her number and even change mine if I have to.
“Yeah, man, I know.” My white knuckle grip on the steering wheel eases when I sigh. Sophie has to believe me, but even I know that those texts look bad. I’ll just have to make sure this meeting goes perfectly, and use the fact that I’m staying in state as a grand gesture of commitment.
Part of me feels like all the progress we’ve made over the last few weeks will have been erased, and she’ll be right back to hating me.
I have to explain. If I learned anything from last time, it’s that not telling her the whole truth will only fuck things up more.
“Mr. Williams, Mr. Ashford, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The Reaper’s GM shakes our hands, followed by Coach Lawson, the head coach. We’re meeting in a spacious conference room that takes up much of the top floor of the office building we’re in. The windows overlook the Boston skyline, giving a lovely view of the Hancock.
“Mr. Hanson,” I greet the GM, nodding politely. “We’re very excited to speak to all of you today.”
“Likewise,” the coach says, smiling wide. He looks to be about forty, with the slightest bit of gray at his temples. He had played for the Reapers for four years before being traded to the Ontario Coyotes in California. He came on as the Head Coach for Boston about five years ago.
Once we all take a seat at the conference table, Coach Lawson and Mr. Hanson get straight to business. “Now,” Mr. Hanson says, steepling his fingers in front of him, “the purpose of this meeting is to get to know you two. We know the numbers and stats, but what about your character? Are you going to mesh well with the team? That sort of thing.”
That’s the bottom line. It doesn’t matter how well Jake and I play if our personalities are like a hand grenade to the rapport the team has going on right now.
Jake and I exchange a look. “We’re happy to tell you anything you want to know.”
Coach Lawson nods. “Before we get to that, let me tell you what you can expect from me as a coach. My coaching style can vary slightly from season to season depending on what kind of team we have on the roster. What I will always emphasize, however, is team cohesion. The Reapers have each other's backs both on and off the ice.” He looks between us with an assessing gaze. “Does that make sense? I don’t stand for petty squabbles between teammates that will fuck us up during a game.”
“Yes, sir,” we say in unison, earning a smirk from the coach.
Mr. Hanson speaks up. “As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, we have two open spots. Our Left Wing retired, and our Center… well, according to official reports, he’s taking a voluntary leave of absence to take care of some… family business. Between the four of us, though, he won’t be returning.”
What’s the story with that? It’s none of our business though, and as long as we sign a contract guaranteeing our spot, I really don’t care.
“One thing,” Coach Lawson says, tapping the table with a finger, “last season, we had some… issues between players. We’re doing a summer skills camp in an attempt to team-build and get us to our best before the pre-season starts. It’s our one non-negotiable as all players are required to attend. It’ll be six weeks, we leave the first Monday of June.”
Shit. We’re only two weeks away from June. But if it’s mandatory… and it means I can sign with Boston, play with Jake, and stay near Sophie…
“I don’t have a problem with that,” I tell him, glancing at Jake.
“Neither do I.”
“Great. Now that we have that out of the way,” he grins, looking between the two of us, “let's learn a bit about you guys.”
We spend some time talking about our interests and home life, what we like to do on the off season, and where we would plan on staying if we were to sign with the team. The conversation flows easily, and it really does just feel like they’re trying to get to know us.
After about an hour, Mr. Hanson and Coach Lawson exchange a nod before standing to shake our hands. “Well, boys,” Mr. Hanson says, “we’ll be sending out your contracts by the end of the day. Take the rest of the week to look over them and if you have any revisions you’d like to request, we can talk it over on Monday.”
“Holy shit, we did it!” I nearly shout when we’re in the car. I can’t wait to get home and tell Sophie.
“Fuck, we sure as hell did, man. I’m not super excited about having to do a summer camp.” Jake sighs and lets his head fall on the headrest. “What are your plans for your living situation now that you’re staying close to home? You can’t live in that hotel forever. I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t want to be too close to family. I think I’ll get an apartment in the city and enjoy the single life.”
Despite my excitement, a shrug finds its way to my shoulders. “When I imagine it, I see myself living with Sophie.”
Coming home to Sophie, whether it’s from practice or a road trip, sounds amazing. We could have a house together, just the two of us, and she could do whatever she wants. She would never have to work a day in her life again if she didn’t want to. And hell, if she did want to, I’d move heaven and earth to ensure she gets to do exactly what she wants. “Maybe… shit. Maybe I can even buy a house for the two of us and surprise her with it. Something with a yard. Maybe a fence. Or we could get a fixer upper and do it together in the off-season so it’s exactly how she wants it.”
“Damn, Carter.” Jake laughs. “I knew you always loved her, but a house? Are you sure? That’s like… the rest of your fucking life you’re talking about.”
Jake’s right on one thing, I never stopped loving Sophie. When I came back to town it hit me like a freight train and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. The question “am I sure?” doesn’t even take a blip of brain activity to answer.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling to myself. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life.”