Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
I’m stretching out as the rest of the team arrives for our morning skate. They take the ice slow and quiet.
“What do you say, boys?” I force a pep into my voice that I definitely don’t feel.
Last night was the first time I got more than a few hours of sleep all week. I’m not complaining. Far from it. I’d do it all over again, but it makes being a leader and setting the tone for this weekend’s games a little tougher when I’m fighting back a yawn.
We’ve got the team playlist going—a mix-up of songs submitted by each guy that Maverick puts together.
We skate for thirty minutes on game days—no more and no less.
It’s a light skate. We go through a few drills just to get the nerves out, and, in the case of some of the guys, work out the alcohol from the night before.
Food and a nap and they’ll be good to go tonight.
Rhett’s dragging today. Not surprising considering the breakup and the amount he drank last night. I’m glad he finally ended things with Carrie. Not liking your best friend’s girlfriend is a real bummer. I tried to warm up to her, really, I did.
He gave so much, and it was never enough for her.
If he called her twice a day, then why wasn’t he calling three times?
She hated that he played hockey because it meant he couldn’t travel to see her on the weekends, but did she visit?
Rarely. Maybe once a semester. It was hard to watch him with her these past four years we’ve been teammates and roommates.
Not that my relationships have been the picture of excellence.
Hopefully, that’s changing, though. Things with Reagan are going so well I have to remind myself that I’m trying to break my cycle of jumping in and getting too serious too fast. From night one, I planned to take it slow, but there’s just no doing that with Reagan.
We’re spending every night together, I think about her during the day, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.
I want to be with her all the time. I don’t want to date anyone else, and I sure as hell don’t want her to date anyone else.
I should probably mention that. You can have a casual but exclusive thing, right?
I shake my head. This is what I do. Give myself completely, jump in headfirst, and live in that new relationship until the little things I overlooked in the beginning start to pile up, and I realize it’ll never work. I want this time to be different. I need it to be.
Reagan isn’t like the girls I’ve dated in the past. She’s my friend and neighbor; she’s tight with Ginny.
No matter what happens, she’s going to be part of my life.
It’s almost like it automatically became serious when we crossed over that line.
Or hurdled over it in our case. I care about what happens between us, of course, but also just about her.
I should probably do the opposite of whatever I think is right—put some space between us, slam the damn brakes on. She’s got a full day of classes, and I’ve got the game tonight and another tomorrow, so that shouldn’t be too hard. Though, I’m already itching to text her, kiss her…
“How are you feeling?” I ask Rhett as I fall in beside him.
“Like I put my liver through a shredder last night.” He smells like the sweet liquor he drank, and I put a little more distance between us to breathe some nonalcoholic air.
“I’m sorry about Carrie. I don’t think I said that last night.”
“You definitely didn’t, and no, you aren’t.” He cuts me a knowing look.
“Fine. I’m not sorry you broke up, but I am sorry that you’re bummed.”
“Bummed?” he scoffs. “We’ve been together since high school. I’ve known her since I was four years old. I’m not bummed. That makes it sound like I’m a child disappointed that there’s no more ice cream. My world is rocked.”
I search his face for understanding. “But you broke up with her.”
“And I feel awful about it. Sick to my stomach.”
“Then why did you do it?” Honestly, I never thought he would.
He’s grumbled about her before, mentioned in passing that things seemed harder between them this past year, that they had less and less in common, but then he’d be on the phone with her twenty minutes later, and everything would be great again.
“Because I don’t want to hate her or dread talking to her. She might not be the person for me, but I care about her. She saw something in me when no one else did. I was nothing before I met her. Miserable and lonely. I owe her a lot.”
Rhett’s made no attempt to hide that he was a skinny, unpopular kid until he started dating Carrie, but I think he gives her too much credit.
He’s a great guy. I have no doubt he was also a great kid, and I know he was a great boyfriend.
I saw it day after day. She liked him for who he is instead of what he looked like.
That doesn’t make her a saint. Besides, he grew into his giant frame and big nose.
He’s a good-looking guy now, according to the girls that often hang around trying to get his attention.
He’ll have no problem finding someone new.
“I’m here for you. Whatever you need. You want to have people over tonight and get stupid?” I secretly hope that isn’t the answer because we need to be sharp for our games this weekend. One night of heavy drinking he might be able to push through, but two?
“No, man. I’m good. It’s just going to take time.”
“The offer’s good anytime. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” He nods his appreciation. “What about you and Reagan? Did you lock that down yet?”
We get in the back of the line for passing drills. “We’re taking it slow. You heard her last night. We’re not jumping into anything.”
“Why not? Reagan’s great.”
“Because I want this to work, and in the past when I’ve been too quick to label things, it’s blown up in my face.”
“But you’re still doing it.” Rhett gives his head a shake. “You can call it, or not call it, whatever you want, but you’re treating her like you do all your new girlfriends.”
“I’m not,” I say, though I can’t offer any evidence of that.
I grind down on my molars. He’s right. Of course, he is, but I’m in unchartered waters.
I want to make her my girlfriend, but it’s only been a week, and that’s exactly what the old me would have done.
Acknowledging that is like admitting that I’m setting us up for failure.
“All I’m saying is, I’ve seen you date a lot of girls. So has Reagan. If you’re not being clear about whatever it is you’re doing, then you’re both assuming something. Make sure that something is the same thing.”
“Your advice is that I should clarify that we’re not together?”
He chuckles. “Or that you are.”
Ginny’s at my apartment when I get back. Sitting on the couch braiding her hair, she nods in greeting.
“What are you still doing here?” I ask, tossing my bag in the general direction of my room and sitting next to her on the couch. Heath had to go straight to class after our skate, so she’s not waiting for him.
“Eww. You’re sweaty, and you stink.”
I wrap an arm around her and pull her into my armpit. She squeals and punches my chest until I free her.
“Gross. I’m going to stink for class. Thanks a lot.” Her mouth pulls down in disgust, but her eyes are twinkling with laughter.
“You are welcome.” I get a whiff of myself as I bring my arm back down, and yeah, a shower is definitely in my future.
“Did you move in, and I missed it?” I elbow her. She’s here most nights now.
“I really miss when you slept at your girlfriends’ places instead of here,” she teases me back.
“I’m glad things are good with you and Heath,” I say honestly.
“Me too. And now you and Reagan…” She trails off like she’s waiting for me to give her more information.
“Yep, things are good.”
“That’s all I get?”
I lean closer and whisper like I’m going to share some deep, dark secret. “That’s all there is to tell.”
She rolls her eyes and shoves at my shoulder. “Mom texted me earlier. She said to tell you good luck and sorry again that she’s not coming to your games this weekend.”
I shrug. They haven’t made it to any games since they announced their separation. Considering they barely missed a game before that, it’s just one more reminder that our family is broken. “It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t. This is your last year.”
There’s a familiar ache in my chest at the mention of hockey ending with an added gut-deep annoyance that my parents are missing it. There’s only a month left of the regular season.
“Dad assured me he was coming for family night.” I might be frustrated with our parents, but I try not to let Ginny see just how much it bothers me. She doesn’t need to add my issues to her own.
Ginny nods. “So weird. I went from sad to pissed at them. I want to shake them both. They’re being ridiculous.”
“They’re figuring it out. We’re all figuring it out. It’s going to be all right.”
Ginny smiles and rests her head on my bicep. “At least we have each other. I’m glad you’re going to be here for med school.”
“Me too.”
She sits up and pins her gaze on me. “Things are good between you and Reagan? Really? Your favorite sister doesn’t get any more details than that? You know, I bet if I told Mom and Dad that you were engaged…” She trails off, smiling innocently as she looks down at her lap.
“You little shit,” I say and tickle her sides.
She elbows me hard, and I back off.
“Don’t you dare.” If I weren’t already sweaty, I would be thinking about their reaction. Especially mid-divorce. “I gotta shower.”
“Booooo!” she huffs when I stand and head toward my room. “Can I at least get a ride to campus?”
“Leaving in five,” I say over my shoulder.
I get to class a few minutes ahead of schedule. Janine’s already here. I think she must arrive at every class at least five minutes early.
I drop my backpack onto the floor and slide into the chair next to her. “How’s it going?”
She has her iPad out and continues to stare at it for a few seconds before putting it down to answer me. “Fine. I was just finishing the chapter on immunology.”
“Isn’t he covering that today in class?” I snicker.
“Yes. I read ahead. It helps me retain the information in class better.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure your big head has no problem soaking it all in at once, but I have to work hard for this.” What she doesn’t say is she thinks I don’t have to work hard period, and that’s just not true.
“I like to read it again after class. I prefer getting the professor’s take first and then going over it a second or third time on my own. I work hard too.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you don’t. I’m stressed about the scholarship and grades this semester.”
“Your grades are fine.” I know this because we’re in almost all the same classes. I’ve rarely seen anything other than a shining A on her returned work.
She rests her elbows on the desk and leans forward. “So, you and Reagan?”
Right. I almost forgot that Janine was there for the whole fake fiancée thing. The thought of coming clean to her and Dr. Salco makes me shudder. How do you bring that up? “We’re together, yes.”
I could tell Janine the truth right now, but if she mentions it to Dr. Salco before I do, that’d be shitty.
“Not just together, engaged. When did that happen?”
A little of that panic from the other night returns. I’m no good at acting the part without my leading woman. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
“Please. I’ve known Reagan a long time. You’ve known her what, three years?”
Two, actually. Since she and Dakota moved in next door. I nod. “Something like that.”
“Well, I’m surprised to see my childhood best friend engaged to my college rival, but I can see you two together.” I struggle to form an appropriate response before she adds, “It was good to see her. I’ve worried about her over the years.”
“You’ve been worried about Reagan?” My brows lift. “Why?”
“We lost touch when we got to college. That’s probably my fault. I’ve been so focused on grades and making sure I got into med school. But she’s doing well?”
I’m missing something, but I don’t know what. And I can’t really ask since I’m supposed to be her all-knowing fiancé. “She is.”
“Good. I really am glad. Lori was a mess for most of her life. She does seem to be doing better now, not that I blame Reagan for not forgiving her. Will you tell Reagan that for me? I tried to tell her the other night, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to hear it.”
Other people are starting to arrive to class, including the professor, so I nod, and then close the conversation by turning in my desk to face the front. “Of course.”
The music is loud, the crowd even louder, as we take the ice for warmups.
I stand at the gate and give each of the guys a word or two of encouragement.
I’m always the last one out. I see to them first. We’re only effective if each one of us is at our best, and that’s my job.
I give them whatever they need to be their best.
Some guys like Jordan get pumped with a tap of the helmet, where other guys like Liam require “atta boys” periodically throughout the game. Mav likes me to check him into the boards during warmup. I know how to motivate each of my guys. It’s why Coach made me captain.
It’s never been my dream to play hockey after college, so it’s easier for me to look out for the team than guys like Heath or Mav who have already been signed.
I love it, but it never felt like enough to base my entire life around.
Here, with these guys though, it’s an experience that I know I’ll hold on to forever.
When I finally step onto the ice, I stretch and scan the crowd. I already know my parents aren’t here, but I can’t help but look for them anyway out of habit. They’ve had season tickets since my freshman year, same spot halfway up the lower level next to the bench.
I wonder if they’ll sit together when they come now, or maybe the seats will be a bargaining chip in their divorce.
Season tickets for the china set or some other sentimental piece they acquired in the twenty-three years they were together.
Since they split, I’m continually getting tripped up on things like that.
As far as I know, there haven’t been any real fights over furniture, but watching them divide the items that make up every memory of my childhood has been awful.
But tonight, since they’re not coming, Ginny, Dakota, and Reagan are in their place. Reagan’s wearing my hockey sweatshirt. It’s huge on her, but she is working it. My clothes have never looked so good. I tip my head at her, and a shy smile pulls at her lips.
Even sharing a smile in an arena packed with people feels intimate. It’s been a great week and it feels good to have her here. I like her. I want things to keep being great with her. Do I resist every natural instinct I have? Do everything different than I have in the past?
I don’t know what the secret trick is to lead our relationship as well as I lead the team, but I’m determined to figure it out.