Chapter 3
Chapter Three
MATT
Nerves crowded in my gut as I knocked on Austin Harris’s front door.
Austin was the team’s captain—or at least, he had been last season—and while we got along all right, we weren’t exactly what I’d call friends.
I respected him, but he was hard to get a read on and tended to keep people at a distance.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask too many questions about the favor I’d come here for. I’d already told Nick about my history with Chelsey and preferred not to clue Austin in too. I doubted he’d blab to anyone, but the fewer who knew, the better.
The door opened to reveal Austin’s fiancée, Jane Wright. Her dark eyebrows shot toward her hairline, but she managed a small smile.
“Hi, Matt,” she said softly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
I ran my hand through my hair and held her placid brown gaze, hoping like hell that she’d agree to help me. “Yeah, sorry I didn’t message or call before stopping by.”
She shrugged and the motion sent a curtain of brown hair spilling over her shoulders. “It’s no problem. Would you like me to get Austin? He’s in the gym.”
“Actually, it’s you I’m here to see.”
She cocked her head, obviously curious. Hardly surprising, considering we hadn’t had much to do with each other. “Come in. Would you like a coffee?”
“No, thank you. I try to limit my caffeine intake after lunch during the season, but a glass of water would be great.”
She moved aside, and I entered the foyer and removed my shoes, then set them at the end of a row of others. I shivered. It wasn’t cold inside, but it wasn’t warm either. The heating in my place was usually cranked right up during fall and winter.
Jane turned into a room on the right and I followed. I’d been in Austin’s house before but only once or twice. The kitchen was all white and black, with a white marble countertop, white walls and ceiling, and a black marble breakfast bar.
She gestured for me to sit on one of the comfy-looking padded stools in front of the breakfast bar. I complied and she opened a cabinet, pulled out two glasses, and filled each one from a water filter attached to the tap. She passed me one glass and sat with the other on one of the stools.
“What did you need to see me for?” she asked.
I set the glass down, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a puck. It was brand new and had more than enough space across its white surface for what I wanted. “Would you do me a huge favor and get your dad and uncle to sign this?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Now it makes sense.”
“I hate to ask.” I got the feeling she was used to people using her for access to her NHL-legend family members. “I have a friend who is a massive fan of theirs, and I owe them an apology. I’d really appreciate it.”
Jane took the puck and put it to the side. “Sure. I can get it back to you in a week or two. Will that do?”
I pressed my palms together in gratitude. “Thank you. I owe you. If there’s ever anything you need, let me know.”
Hopefully, Chelsey would be pleased by the gesture. I knew I couldn’t buy her forgiveness, but doing something thoughtful surely wouldn’t hurt. If nothing else, it could serve as a peace offering. I didn’t want this to be any more awkward than it had to be, and I doubted she did either.
I sipped the water, finally noticing the cutting board and assorted vegetables on the countertop behind us. “Sorry, did I interrupt meal prep?”
She tilted her hand from one side to the other. “Not really. I was just getting started.” She checked the time on her phone. “Actually, would you like to stay? There will be plenty to go around.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “No, that’s fine. I don’t want to be a hassle.”
“You won’t be. Unless you already have plans?”
“I don’t.”
She smiled and got to her feet. “It’s settled, then. I’m making chicken with rice and vegetables. Why don’t you peel and chop the carrots while I wash the broccoli?”
Stammering, I trotted after her, unsure how a brief stop-in had turned into a dinner invitation, especially from someone who seemed as timid as Jane.
But then, she’d been an excellent assistant to Austin before they’d gotten together, so I supposed it made sense that she was organized and efficient. I’d just never seen it firsthand.
I found the carrots and a small box beside them that I assumed was for the scraps. There was already a peeler out, so I picked it up and got to work. I peeled, sliced, and diced carrots and put them in a bowl for Jane to add to the pan that was sizzling on the stovetop.
She added the broccoli and directed me to a rice cooker in the corner with orders to empty the rice into the pan and add a couple of sauces. Meanwhile, she was preparing the chicken. She’d just added it to the stir-fry when Austin walked into the kitchen, a sweat towel slung around his neck.
He went straight to her side and kissed her cheek.
“Good workout?” she asked.
He stole another kiss and backed up to mop the sweat from his forehead. “Not bad. I’m feeling as ready as I ever will for training tomorrow.” His gaze lifted to me. “Hey, man. How are you?”
I was tempted to say, a bit of a mess, really, but instead, I shrugged a shoulder and made a noncommittal noise. “I hope you don’t mind that Jane invited me to stay for dinner.”
“Not at all.”
He sent Jane a look filled with so much love that I felt like I ought to leave the kitchen. My gut cramped with envy. I wanted that. I wanted an easy relationship with someone I loved, where both people knew where they stood and there was never any doubt that they were stronger together.
I’d had that once. With Chelsey. And then I lost it. More than anything, I wanted it back.
“Did you drop by because you need something?” Austin asked, starting to sling his arm around Jane’s shoulder before stopping when she narrowed her eyes.
Yeah, I wouldn’t want someone that sweaty hugging me either—not unless I was equally sweaty.
“I was just hoping Jane could get her dad and uncle to autograph a puck for me as a gift to a friend,” I explained, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Austin grinned. “I’m sure she could get Alec to sign it as well if you wanted all three Wrights at once.”
I laughed. “No need for that. I’m not sure what my friend thinks of Alec as a player, but I know she loves Pete and Wayne.”
Alec, Jane’s brother, was a couple years younger than me, and he played for Colorado. He’d joined the NHL after Chelsey and I had broken up, so I wasn’t sure what her opinion of him was.
Austin smirked. “She?”
“She,” I confirmed with a nod.
I didn’t say anything else. He didn’t ask. We weren’t exactly two guys who enjoyed having heart-to-hearts.
“I’ll shower and then join you for dinner,” Austin said before heading out of the kitchen and disappearing around the corner.
A short time later, we served up three plates of rice, chicken, and veggies at the dining table. The room had a curved wall with five sets of double windows that overlooked the street. It was probably a nice view during summer, but at the moment, it was too dark for us to see much.
“How are you feeling about this season?” I asked Austin as I scooped rice into my mouth. It was good. Jane could cook.
Austin finished a mouthful before replying, “I think we have the opportunity to go further than we did last year. We’ve got strong players and we worked together better toward the end of last season than we did earlier on. If we can get into a good stride, then we could go all the way.”
“We have the talent,” I agreed. The only issue was that some of our players were volatile. Like Drew. Or Delacrue, one of the only remaining team members who’d enjoyed our previous captain’s reign of terror. “If we don’t fuck it up with that whole probation thing. Did you know that was coming?”
He grimaced. “No idea. I hope the guys take it seriously.”
So did I. “The coaches and team leadership will have to lay down the law. Do you have any idea who the alternate captains will be?”
Austin shook his head. “If they’ve decided, then they haven’t told me.”
I hoped I was in with a chance, but I was superstitious enough not to say that.
We chatted for a while longer, discussing the probation and how it might impact us, and which players were most likely to cause issues.
We talked tactics for our first games, and considering Austin was the captain, I had at least a little hope that our ideas might become more than just talk.
Once we finished eating, we reconvened in the living room, with an enormous screen on one wall.
Austin brought up our last game of the season and Jane pulled out her tablet and opened a note-taking app.
Apparently, this was a routine for them.
I wondered, if Chelsey and I had stayed together, whether we’d have a routine like this.
I followed my own movements on the screen, making a mental note of the things I did well and those I could improve upon.
In particular, Gauthier and I could stand to run some drills, so we were more aware of each other’s positioning on the ice.
Last season had been our first working together and it showed.
About halfway through the game, I decided I ought to head home to make sure I had plenty of sleep before training tomorrow. I thanked Jane and Austin, excused myself, and trudged down the front steps to where my car was parked on the side of the road.
It was a fifteen-minute drive from their place to mine, and considering the time of night, traffic was light. I parked in the garage and let myself inside. The house was eerily still. The silence seemed to press in on me.
I was never any good at dealing with the quiet. I preferred to be surrounded by noise and bustle. I wasn’t a raging extrovert, but I’d grown up in a tiny apartment with barely enough room for us to move around each other, and I’d gone straight from there to college housing.
I was used to being around people. At least now that the season had started, I’d see all my teammates at training every day. Over the summer break, I wasted far too much time hanging out at the gym or at bars to stave off loneliness.
If my parents knew how much it bothered me, I was sure they wouldn’t mind me hanging out at their place, but they deserved to have space to focus on their relationship after decades of struggling to get by.
I made my way to the bedroom, where I went straight to the small Bluetooth speaker on my nightstand and paired it with my phone, then started a podcast interview with a former NHL coach. The background noise eased some of the tension from my shoulders.
I’d already showered earlier, so I brushed my teeth, made sure everything was in my bag for training, and then crawled into bed. It was still a little early to sleep, so I opened a browser on my phone and, before I could think better of it, searched Chelsey’s name.
The first article to come up was linked from the website of the baseball team she had worked with in LA. I clicked on it, skim-read the article, and clicked back out again. The second hit was for one of her social media accounts. I hesitated, my finger hovering over the link.
Don’t do it, Matt. Nothing good will come of cyberstalking her.
Fuck it, I couldn’t resist.
The first few images were of waterfalls, hills, and forests. They were all stunning because Chelsey was an amazing photographer.
There were a handful of images of her with a fiery-eyed Hispanic woman. I grimaced. So, she was still friends with Layla. I’d have to make sure her bestie didn’t get the opportunity to castrate me, because I had no doubt she’d take it.
Scrolling further, I found a selection of photographs of Chelsey with baseball players.
Most of them were candid shots, perhaps taken behind the scenes during her work with the team.
When I came across one where a player had his arm around her shoulders and was kissing her cheek, jealousy simmered in my gut.
I knew it was ridiculous, but I couldn’t be logical where Chelsey was concerned.
I returned to the top of her profile to check whether she had said anything about being in a relationship. Obviously, if she was dating someone, I needed to stay well away. That would be the smart move anyway… But if she was single, I had a feeling I’d regret it if I didn’t shoot my shot.
Her profile didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend, a fiancé, or—God forbid—a husband. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to recall whether there had been a ring on her finger earlier. I couldn’t remember seeing one, but I also wasn’t sure I’d thought to look.
There were no men who appeared regularly in her feed and, from what I could see, none were commenting consistently on her posts.
Maybe she was single.
I sighed and massaged the tight muscle at the top of my jaw.
Single or not, Chelsey wouldn’t have anything to do with me unless I offered her a fucking fantastic apology.
I closed the app and opened my inbox, then started a draft email and addressed it to her.
I wasn’t sure if I had her current email address, but it was worth a try.
Haltingly, I typed out how sorry I was to have hurt her. How much I regretted losing her. Then I tried to explain myself. No, what happened hadn’t been good. In fact, it had been the opposite of good. But it hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought either.
I stared at it until my eyes watered. It just looked like a bunch of excuses and half-assed attempts to smooth things over. It wasn’t good enough. I needed to apologize to her in person. I owed her that much.
But even if I did, what could I possibly say that would erase the utter betrayal I’d seen in her eyes that last day?