Chapter 23
JAYDEN
Eli is still unusually quiet when the press is let into the locker room. Tonight was a hard-fought win that went all the way through to a shoot-out between us and Chicago. Not the kind of showdown we want at home.
In between questions from the reporter I’m talking to, I watch him give a distracted interview to one of the major networks. It leaves the reporter dissatisfied enough that she finds another of the guys to talk to before the post-game press time is up.
“So what’s your take from today’s game?” The guy asks me, pushing the microphone right into my face before he’s finished observing, “The lack of connect between you and Sylkes seemed like one of the major flaws in the Comets’ game.
The defense was scatty at times… not something expected from your partnership. ”
I swallow, glancing back at Eli to find his intent stare on me. It’s hard to think past the rush of my pulse even when I focus back on the reporter. “Umm… it’s been a grueling start to the season. You know, uhh…”
“There’s been a lot of drama off the ice as well as on the ice...”
I ignore his quip, because it’s bullshit. Eli doesn’t let anything affect his game. Ever.
Today was simply a bad day. We all have them.
Still, there’s a nagging voice in the back of my head echoing the distance the reporter is talking about.
What if I’m ruining our partnership with my stupid attraction to his girl? What kind of friend am I to be thinking about Finley in any way other than his?
“Maybe the distractions are bleeding into the game...”
“No. Not at all. We’ve had a few runs of back-to-back games, but we’re definitely gonna work on tightening the defense. You know, uhhh… reviewing the mistakes we made, the holes we left open… and, ummm, yeah, we’ll be working hard to avoid going beyond the regulation clock.”
“Thanks,” the reporter salutes me with the mic before joining the other members of the press being herded out of the locker room.
Elijah is straight in the shower. In and out before I’ve finished signing my shirt for auction along with my stick and few other items of merch. Luckily, Coach asks to talk to him which means I’m showered, ready to go home, and waiting for him when they’re done.
I don’t know what’s happened since we went to dinner a couple nights ago, but it feels like he’s avoiding me outside the arena. Although he sometimes needs space, it’s never been like this. Never affected our game.
“It’s for your own good, son,” Coach tells Eli as he snatches up his baseball cap and pulls it down over his damp hair. “Schedule the appointment.”
What appointment? Is he talking about Dr. Armstrong again?
Coach’s blue stare narrows on me. “See you tomorrow, boys!”
I follow Eli out. We each drove ourselves to the arena today, and he’s striding to his car like he’s on a mission.
A mission to get away from me. I’m so over pussyfooting around the awkwardness that I chase his stride with my own.
“Wait up, man,” I call, only for him to ignore me. What the fuck? “Eli!”
He pauses as he slams the trunk of his SUV shut. His hands are on his hips, and I can only see the hard set of his jaw shadowed by the bill of his cap.
“What’s up?” He asks.
I hate this side of him. The quiet brusqueness that makes me question who we are. I hate the fucking hat hiding his stare so I can’t read past the outwardly distance he’s putting between us.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” His face cants to the side, giving me what I desperately need to ground my flighty heartbeat—his eyes. So black I can’t make out his pupils from his irises.
His sulky pout rolls together when I shuffle closer. This distance is unbearable. It’s fucking killing me. And I need to fix it.
“Are we okay?” I ask, failing to keep my voice level.
Eli nods, gripping the bill of his cap with both hands and wringing it so tight that it leaves a mark on his forehead when it pulls off.
“Yeah, we’re good,” he answers.
I don’t buy it, though. “Why are you avoiding me, then?”
One of the things I love about him is that he doesn’t lie, and I appreciate it when he shrugs instead of denying it.
“What did I do, Eli?” I can’t fix what I don’t know. Except I do. I know I’ve become too close to Finley. Too friendly. Too caught up. “Are you mad at me? Is that why you’ve stood me up for our workouts?”
Because we were fine when we went to dinner. We were fine when we returned home. And we were definitely more than fine when I left him and Finley that night.
So… “What is going on?”
“I can’t sleep, JJ. I lie awake at night, and—” he stops abruptly, shaking his head. “I need to go.”
“No.” I step to the side, stopping him from running away like he always does. “No, you need to talk to me. Just fucking talk to me. Please. I’m going out of my mind thinking that I’ve fucked up somehow.”
Even though I try to cover up the slip of my tongue and feelings, my hand grips his forearm, conveying everything I can’t tell him.
Eli’s stare falls to where I’m holding him. My skin on his skin. His muscles tense beneath my palm, bulging in my grip.
“Jayden,” he murmurs my name like a secret he’s trying to keep. “JJ…”
“You’re my best friend, Eli,” I whisper back. A reminder to myself. “You can tell me anything. Talk to me about anything…”
“There’s so much going on, and I can’t switch off. I can’t sleep, and then I come in here and there’s no escape from it. There’s no fucking escape anymore.”
My thumb caresses lightly over the soft skin on the inside of his forearm.
This is the most contact we’ve ever had.
It feels more intimate than any other time we’ve been this close.
Although, there’s a voice in my head that’s telling me not to push it.
Not to take it too far so that Eli doesn’t pull away, I can’t help shuffling just a little bit closer.
We’re toe-to-toe, and I’m waiting for him to snatch his arm back and flee. He doesn’t, though.
“I was meant to protect her. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You protect the people you love.”
I’m not sure if he’s speaking in general or me terms. Either way, his eyes are wide, imploring. “Sometimes you can’t.”
Eli nods. “Because if I couldn’t protect myself, how could I protect her? Right?”
“Eli…”
He turns away from me, leaning back into the trunk of his G-Wagon. I have no choice but to let him go. The faraway look on his face says he needs space.
His hat is scrunched in his white-knuckled fist when he muses, “Maybe it is all my fault. I did all of this. I asked for it.”
“Asked for what?”
My mind goes back to the hotel in Portland. The marks on Finley’s wrists and ankles, and the skittish energy that reminded me of the first time I met Eli as my partner. Everything he’s told me about their hometown, and their church weighs heavy in my thoughts.
A rock settles in my chest at the same time as his blank stare settles on mine. “I broke the rules. It’s what they’re saying. I took her virtue, Jayden. I stole from the Lord. So maybe it was my punishment. And now… now I’ve taken her again and—”
“You’re protecting Finley, because yeah, that’s what you do when you love someone. You break the rules. Do what you must to save them.”
“She saved me. Over and over and over…” A wry smile pulls at one side of his mouth.
He opens his mouth to say more, but instead he stands tall and shoves his hat back on at the clack of heels behind me.
“I have to go,” he grumbles as Dr. Armstrong ambles over to us.
She’s assessing Eli while she asks me, “Still here?”
I smile back with a shrug. “Trying to unpack tonight’s game.”
Growing up with a psychologist and a psychiatrist for parents has left me well versed on how to carry myself around them. Say too much around Momma, she knows I’m overcompensating for my emotions, while if I don’t say enough around The Sire, he knows I’m holding them in.
“That’s good,” she replies, her lips quirking in approval. Eli is getting into his Mercedes when she peers down the driver’s side and tells him, “Don’t forget to schedule your appointment this time.”
That answers my question about Coach’s order.
Eli sticks his thumb up before he shuts his door and starts his engine.
The aggressive rumble of it does nothing to scare Dr. Armstrong.
She leisurely walks across to her Lexus parked on the other side of the lot.
It’s a damn nice car next to Coach’s Ford pick-up, even with his Batman matte paintwork, her convertible is fucking gorgeous.
With a wave, she gets into her vehicle while I amble over to my iX and get in.
Eli doesn’t start moving until my engine is on. Dr. Armstrong is ahead of him while I’m following out of the lot behind him.
We merge onto the freeway in convoy. As I’m growing used to the quiet, a call comes through my speakers.
Eli.
“Do you want to come over?” He asks the instant I answer.
Do I want to? Yes.
But I don’t want to crowd him and Finley. To make things awkward again.
“Fin’s going to want to spend time with you, and—”
“She’s busy with work. She’s creating a mural for Christina’s friend.”
“The nursery painting?”
“Yeah, she’s already got three sketches, but she doesn’t think any of them are… inspired.” The sound of his chuckle eases the tightness in my chest.
“Have you told her otherwise?”
“I told her they’re all amazing.”
Eli, Eli, Eli… “Did you tell her why? And not that it’s because she did them or that everything she does is amazing.”
He’s silent for a beat. “It’s true, though. Everything she does is amazing.”
“Yeah, but that’s like me telling you that your game is ace and not telling you that it’s because you have a great eye for spotting the weaknesses in the other team’s offensive line and turning them around into an aggressive attack.
You need to give Fin a key observation to attach the praise to so that it computes. So she can believe it.”
“I wish you luck finding that one thing that’s more brilliant than the rest when we get home.”
I love the way he says home and not simply his place. It makes it easier to breathe and the rest of the drive in our separate cars bearable. Because yes, I’m going home with him… to him… to Finley.