22. Nick
Nick
F ired.
Fucking fired.
Sonya had warned me. She told me her dad would overreact.
Had promised me that the secrecy was for my benefit and I hadn’t believed her.
Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe her, which begged the question why ?
Had I just discounted her words, thinking I knew Coach Mac better than she did?
Or was I just another dumb hockey player who saw what he wanted to see?
Whatever my reasons were didn’t fucking matter, not now. Four days after Coach Mac looked at me like I was a traitor, I was off the roster. My schedule was wide open because I had no practice. No time on the ice. No charity obligations.
Not one damn thing.
For the first time in my adult life I finally understood that saying about having the rug yanked from under me, because that’s how I felt. Every single step I took felt unsteady. Uneasy. My entire life had crumbled in one sentence.
I lost my job. My career. My woman.
Yeah, that’s right, I ignored Sonya’s calls and texts because I was an asshole.
I didn’t blame her, never blamed her when she’d warned me so clearly.
If anything, I was mad at myself. She laid out the risks, told me time and again exactly why we had to sneak around and I’d dove in head first anyway.
How could I not? Hell, I’d do it again because somewhere between that first drink at Hat Trick and cooking breakfast together, I fell in love with her.
But the thing was that I couldn’t handle hearing her voice.
Not now. Not yet. I couldn’t stand the idea of hearing her apologize for something that wasn’t her fault.
Couldn’t bear to hear her guilt-filled words.
Not yet. So I found solace in the one place that had always felt like home, had always been home. Blaze Farms.
I still had my family, Mom and Max, and I still had a way to earn my keep. It was all I had left. It’s enough , I told myself as I stood at the kitchen sink and gazed out the window at the land that stretched out before me.
“You’ve been moping around the farm for four days,” Mom began behind me, her voice was pointed but filled with her usual kindness and patience. “And missing practice,” she went on when I didn’t turn, didn’t speak. “Something you want to tell me?”
I reached for the coffee pot and filled my half-full mug before turning to face her. “Not especially.”
Her lips curled into a half-smile. “Did you and Sonya break up?”
Had we broken up? There hadn’t been any formal declaration but there also hadn’t been one when we became…a couple? I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened but I didn’t feel like we were done. “Not exactly,” I finally muttered. “It’s complicated.”
Mom’s brows rose. “Complicated?”
I blew out a breath and nodded, dropping down into the chair that used to be Dad’s.
“Not anymore, I suppose. I got fired.” Saying it out loud hurt even more than repeating it to myself over and over.
“Fired,” I said it again because I needed to get used to hearing the words.
To living that particular fucking truth.
Mom’s eyes went wide with shock and she held the expression for a full minute, as if she needed time to adjust to those words.
She still wore that soft expression she always did as she moved towards me, patting my shoulder and kissing my cheek.
“That explains the moping, then.” Her words were easy but tinged with sadness. “And everything else.”
My brows dipped and I looked up at her. “Everything else?”
She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the living room. “The giant hockey players on my porch, requesting an audience with you.”
“What?” I jumped to my feet, heart pounding. “Dammit,” I hissed when hot coffee spilled over the rim.
“Go.” She took the mug and gave my back a shove forward.
My legs shook as I went forward, completely unprepared to face my former teammates. These guys were my friends but how could I face them now? That feeling dissipated when I stepped onto the porch and saw them. Cal, Brock, Simon and Ryan, each of them looked relaxed but worried.
They didn’t look like four guys who should’ve been at the arena. “What the hell are you guys doing here? Why aren’t you at practice?”
Cal shrugged, and his lips twisted into a lopsided grin. “We’re boycotting.”
“You’re what ?” I couldn’t have heard that correctly.
“You heard me.” He said the words so casually, as if this wasn’t a big fucking deal.
“Until you’re back on the roster,” Ryan added, crossing his arms with a defiant expression on his face.
I stared at them all to make sure these were the guys I knew, because this was insane. “Don’t put your careers in jeopardy because of me.” That was the last thing I wanted.
Ryan shook his head. “Not about jeopardy, man. You’re a big part of the reason we’ve done so well this season.”
“Bullshit,” I said automatically. I knew my strengths as a player as well as my weaknesses, and I was a good player. Good enough to go pro if I got a shot, but I wasn’t an MVP, not like Brock.
Brock smirked as he pulled out his phone, thumbing the screen before he turned it my way. “As much as it pains me to admit it, your stats are crazy this season.”
My brows dipped as I stared at the screen in disbelief. “Since when are you on TikTok?”
“Since always, man. Gotta keep my brand in the public eye.”
I rolled my eyes and took in the clip that was a mash-up of me on the ice with my season stats flashing on the screen. My goals, assists and even save percentages were all there. And a hell of a lot better than I realized. “Sonya,” I growled before I could stop myself. “She should stay out of it.”
Cal laughed. “You didn’t actually think she’d stay out of it, did you? She’s doing the opposite of that. Reporters are circling Coach Mac like vultures, asking if he’s lost his edge. Wondering if there’s a personal reason Blaze is no longer on the roster. It’s been brutal.”
Simon nodded. “Yeah, he’s been a bit of a dick about it.”
“Understatement,” Ryan added with an eyeroll.
I blew out another breath, dragging my fingers through my hair. “She warned me he’d react this way but I couldn’t stay away.” Even now, it physically hurt to stay away from her.
Brock smirked. “Hey, you guys did a good job of keeping it on the down low. Cal guessed, but he didn’t say a damn word.” Brock glared at Cal for good measure.
Cal smiled, arms spread with an expression of mock innocence. “I am a vault.”
I shook my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips for the first time since breakfast with Sonya.
“Look, I appreciate you guys coming out here, I really do. But I don’t want you or the team, getting any shit because of this.
I made my choice and I’m suffering the consequences.
” These men weren’t just my coworkers or teammates, they were my brothers.
“The first postseason game is coming up soon and you need to focus.”
“Hard as hell to do that when Coach turned the team upside down for no damn reason.” Simon shook his head. “Trust is important, yeah, but it goes both ways.”
Before I could argue, Max appeared. “Get him off the farm, would you? His bad mood is making the grains sad.” His bad joke earned a few laughs.
“Makin’ them sad?” I asked, my tone incredulous.
“Yeah.” He grinned, leaning against the doorway. “They’re depressed now. Won’t grow. Whole harvest is gonna be mopey and we’ll have a nation of sad bastards.”
My teammates laughed as they were meant to but I knew what Max was doing, downplaying everything to give me an out. Reminding me that there was still a world, a life, outside of my current mess.
“Seriously, get him out of here for a few hours.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Max shook his head. “Take a break, Nick. Please.”
“Fine,” I nodded because the last thing I wanted was to make things more difficult for my brother. “Where to?”
“Whiskey,” Brock said easily.
“Coffee,” Cal suggested instead. “Ginger swears Ice Ice Baby is more than foam art and oat milk.”
It was early afternoon when we arrived at the kitschy coffee shop and the place was mostly empty. Still, we stood out like a bunch of bulls in a glass shop, drawing a few stares which we all ignored.
“We got you something special.” Simon set one of those oversized mugs in front of me with foam art of a cowboy with heart eyes.
“You’re all children,” I snort laughed before taking a sip. “Delicious, though. Thanks.”
We took up two tables near the back of the shop and I braced myself for the hard sell. I knew they would encourage me to talk to Coach Mac, to return Sonya’s calls. To fight for the future I wanted, whether I was ready to hear it or not.
But they didn’t push me, not at all. Instead, they talked about hockey, about women and about Brock’s latest underwear ad, with a few jabs tossed my way for good measure. They filled the air with comfort and by the time the coffee drink was empty, I felt like I could breathe again.
The coffee drink and the time with my friends hadn’t solved any of my problems. I was no longer a hockey player and I still hadn’t seen or touched Sonya in almost a week. But I wasn’t as devastated as I had been this morning. Or yesterday.
I felt hope swell in my chest.
“All right, Blaze, try to look like you’re not a mopey bastard.” Brock laughed at his own words as he raised his phone to snap a photo of us. “Gotta show the world you’re not sitting around feeling sorry for yourself.”
I tried for a smile I didn’t feel as Brock snapped a few photos and posted them to social media, which of course made my thoughts turn back to Sonya, who hadn’t left my mind for more than a few seconds since I walked out of her house.
By the time we left Ice Ice Baby, I knew two things for sure.
First, I wasn’t done with hockey. I didn’t know how but I knew I wasn’t walking off the ice for good.
The second thing? I sure as hell wasn’t done with Sonya.
Not now.
Not ever.