Chapter 36
. . .
Will
When Tristan picks up the puck for a breakaway, I almost feel bad for wishing he’d trip over his own skates and face-plant on the ice.
Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
As it transpires, he tucks it in the top-right shelf and sends us up by a goal in the third period against the Scorpions.
From my position on the bench—where I’ve been the past two games and again tonight—I lock eyes with Dad, who’s sitting ice level in the VIP area.
He’s pissed with Coach for benching me, although he knows, deep down, that if he were in his best friend’s shoes, he’d probably do the same thing.
Tristan skates by the bench, bumping fists with the coaching staff and the rest of the team.
I swear he slows down as he approaches me at the end of the line, just so he can rub it in my face a second longer.
With tonight’s goal, he’s only three points behind me for the season, and given Coach hasn’t indicated when I’ll next play, Tristan could be sailing past my points tally before Thanksgiving.
“I’d say my winger is the least of your worries,” Silas says from beside me on the bench.
His ice time has been reduced tonight due to a wrist injury he picked up at the end of the first period.
He’s been sitting next to me ever since, both of us barely uttering a word.
“You look pissed that we just went ahead in the game, and that won’t do anything for your public image. ”
Both hands braced on the stick I haven’t used in fucking ages, I drop my head between my shoulders and bite down on the corner of my mouth guard. “I’m mad at everything right now.”
The Scorpions win the face-off, and Silas keeps his eyes on the ice when he next speaks. “I like you a lot, Will. But seriously, what did you expect to happen? You were secretly dating Coach’s daughter, who is also your publicist.”
“I am dating,” I correct my captain, lifting my head to look at him. “We haven’t broken up.”
Silas side-eyes me. “Have you guys spoken since it all blew up online?”
Anxious, I rip off my helmet and shove a hand through my hair, catching Dad’s line of sight before focusing back on the game.
It’s been the hardest four days since I last saw Drew.
“She keeps asking for space to think everything through, plus she’s suspended from work, pending a full investigation.
Fucking Lydia West is temporarily covering in Drew’s absence, and I hate it.
All I get from her is one-worded emails, like she’s judging me too. ”
He nods his understanding. “And I assume you’re giving Drew space?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
He twists his head to look at me, one brow raised beneath his helmet. “Pretty much?”
“Losing my girl isn’t an option. If she wants a few days, weeks, or months, then fine. But I refuse to live without her.”
Silas clicks his tongue.
“What?”
Elbows planted on his knees, he looks like he wants to say something, but then doesn’t.
“Say it,” I press.
He shakes his head, and I knock my knee against his.
“Say it.”
“You know, just because you want something badly enough, it doesn’t necessarily guarantee success. Sometimes, it’s wise to walk away before serious collateral damage is done.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” I reply, not entirely surprised if he is.
“There’s …” He pauses and adjusts the strap on his wrist. “There’s this one girl who … well, let’s just say, she is my Drew Callaghan.” He smirks at me. “But unlike my teammate, I know where the line is.”
I smirk back at him. “Or you’re too chickenshit to just go for it. She’s probably sitting at home right now, wishing you’d make a move.”
Silas scrubs a hand over his mouth. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Just take it from me when I say, I know when it’s appropriate to go after what I want. I’ve made too many mistakes in life to keep making bad decisions.”
Mason slams the Scorpions center into the boards as Tristan switches out for a line change.
He takes a seat at the end of the bench and bumps fists with Coach.
I’m literally the only guy who can see straight through my teammate’s bullshit.
Even Coach doesn’t want to hear my theory on how Tristan accessed my phone and humiliated his daughter, just so he could get at me.
Tristan peers down the line, and I sneer at him.
It’s only a matter of time before I find out the truth.
“Let it go, Will,” Silas casually warns me, eyes fixed firmly on the game. “The last thing you need is to get into it with your teammate and find yourself on the trade list.”
I tear my eyes from Tristan, hating that I’m the first to look away. “He was the one who posted our messages on social media.”
Silas shakes his head. The night Drew left me standing in the street, it wasn’t long before my captain was on the phone, asking what the fuck was happening. He’s now heard the theory about Tristan swiping my phone in the locker room at least a half dozen times, yet he still isn’t buying it.
“Believe it or not, Tristan values his career and place on the team way more than he does bringing you and your girlfriend down for having a secret relationship.”
I scoff. “He basically accused me of being the reason why Candice quit her job. I haven’t spoken to or even seen her in weeks.”
Silas’s head darts to me. “Quit? I just got a massage from her last night. She said nothing about quitting. In fact, she just accepted a promotion to senior therapist.”
If I wasn’t sitting in a packed arena, I would take Tristan out right now.
“He told me that she’d left the PT team and claimed it was my fault.”
My captain clears his throat. “And why would he do that? Do you and Candice have a history?”
I close my eyes, thinking back to the disappointed look in Drew’s eyes that day she showed up at my apartment and discovered me hooking up with Candice instead of meeting her at Riley’s Bar.
Such a fucking jackass.
“You know what?” Silas continues. “I actually don’t want to know if you’ve played around with my PT. It’s none of my business.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “My history is irrelevant anyway.”
“Why?”
Like a slideshow seeking to torment me for all the times I’ve let Drew down, my girl’s face flashes before me.
“Because this time next year, I’ll be a married man.”
Me
Hey, Baby, I don’t know if you’re at home right now, but if you are, can you head downstairs? There’s a delivery waiting for you.
Only five minutes pass before Drew responds, although it feels like about five hours.
Drew
WILL. What am I supposed to do with all of this???
She attaches a picture of two large crates of chocolate brownie ice cream, and I can just imagine her face when she saw it—a combination of delight and pure disdain for my impractical gift.
Drew
My freezer isn’t big enough.
Me
You could … always store the rest in my freezer?
Drew
Is this your way of getting me to come over?
Me
No, that would be too manipulative for my style. I prefer the direct approach.
Stay in my bed tonight, Drew. It’s been days, and I actually think I might be dying from withdrawals.
Drew
Withdrawals from what?
Me
You know they say death from a broken heart is actually a thing, right?
Drew
I can’t come over. Besides, I have to be in the office first thing tomorrow morning.
Me
Colton’s letting you come back to work?!
Drew
No, the opposite. I think I’m getting fired, which I absolutely deserve. He wants me to bring my office keys and laptop with me.
Sitting in Riley’s Bar, Silas and Mason raise a beer to celebrate our first win against the Scorpions. Meanwhile, my heart sinks to the bottom of the soda I haven’t touched.
Me
If Colton lets you go, he’s making the biggest mistake.
Drew
I breached my contract, Will, and the internet is calling for me to do the professional thing and quit. One way or another, I’ll be officially jobless tomorrow.
If it wasn’t for Vesper moving in with me and paying half the rent, I’d probably go back home. Marley offered for me to move to Vancouver and start over.
Me
What are you going to tell her?
Drew
I don’t know. The whole city seems to hate me right now, especially the Rogues fans. Lydia has inherited all my clients who haven’t already pulled away from First Line. Colton doesn’t deserve for his company to be dragged anymore. And I don’t feel welcome in my hometown.
“Come on now, guys. I know my goal was wild, but let’s not make it the only topic for tonight’s conversation.” Tristan slides into the booth next to Mason, who rolls his eyes at his teammate.
Phone out in front of me, I start typing a reply to Drew.
“Careful what you say, rook.” Tristan’s annoying voice floats across the table. “These hackers could be anywhere, waiting for your next PR scandal.”
I drop my phone to the table with a thud, and from beside me, Silas rests a firm hand on my shoulder.
“Drop it, Tris,” Mason pleads in a maniacal voice.
Tristan just shrugs. “I’m wondering how many more lives Will Jones is going to get before the hockey world wakes up and realizes that he doesn’t have the same talent as his dad.
” He leans toward me, and I can feel my lips as they tremble with rage.
“Or how many off-limits women he’s going to screw over before the entire female population catches on to his fuckery. ”
I’m instantly on my feet and standing in front of Tristan. He gazes up at me, cocky smirk reveling in my misfortune. More importantly, in my girl’s.
“Fucking around with my career is one thing. Messing with Drew’s reputation is a one-way ticket to hell.”
He blows out a laugh, and I lose it, grabbing his gray sweater by the neck and hauling him to his feet.
“Go ahead and laugh a little harder—I dare you,” I growl. “See what happens when you push me to show you a side of my personality you definitely won’t like.”
Mason’s out of the booth in seconds, hands planted on my and Tristan’s chests as we square up.
“Go on, admit it,” I spit. “You swiped my phone, guessed the passcode, and stole private messages between me and Drew.”
“That true?” Mason looks at Tristan. “Because, damn, man, if you did, then that’s really fucked up.”
“He spread bullshit about Candice leaving. Why not go the whole way and try to destroy people’s lives online?” I add.
“Christ, Tristan. Did you hack Will’s phone or not?” Mason tries to placate the rising tension with a genuine appeal for the truth.
I hold my breath, fists forming by my sides. If Tristan says yes, I’m definitely breaking his nose.
His cocky smirk stands strong as he eventually replies, “No,” in a steady, self-assured voice.
“I’m many things, Will, but I’m not loser enough to care that much about your private life.
Messing with you is satisfaction enough for me.
You think I have the time to create a fake account, post, and reply to every comment?
” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip.
“I much prefer stalking your sister’s latest business venture.
Do you think she’d want to interview me about my amazing performance tonight? ”
I lurch forward, and Silas steps fully between us, facing me.
“If you hit him, Will, you’ll be warming the bench on the farm team.”
Fingers flexing by my sides, I seriously consider how good it would feel to teach this asshole a lesson he’d never forget.
My eyes lock on Tristan’s.
Mason looks between us both. “So, if Tris didn’t share the messages, who did?”
“I don’t know,” I confirm on a long exhale, brain spinning out over ways I can fix this for Drew. She’s all that matters to me. Without her, I’m nothing, and I know it. “But I have an idea to make all of this right.”
I take one step back, and Mason grabs my forearm, eyes wide with concern.
“Where are you going, and what the hell are you going to do?”
Shrugging off his grip, I snag my jacket. “Home, and it’s best if I don’t tell you. Trust me when I say, you don’t want to get pulled into this.” I grab my phone from the table and check for messages. Nothing. “I’ll see you at morning skate.”