Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
HALSEY
“This is not going to work,” I say to Posey, who just sat beside me on the airplane.
“What’s not going to work?” He stretches his legs out and rests his folded hands on his stomach.
“This stupid plan you devised to convince Blakely I’m the guy for her.”
“You mean the Break Blakely Action Plan?”
“I told you, I didn’t like that name. And we shouldn’t be naming it anyway. I can’t go through with this.”
Posey lets out a huge sigh, then at the top of his lungs, he shouts, “Frozen Fellas assemble.”
I flinch from the projection of his voice before asking, “What the hell is Frozen Fellas?”
“You know in Ted Lasso . They have the Diamond Dogs and go over the problems they’re facing. Well, I thought we needed a name, so I came up with Frozen Fellas. You know, because we’re men and we play hockey. Catchy, isn’t it?”
“No,” I reply just as Pacey, Silas, and OC approach. OC sits across from us, and Pacey and Taters kneel in the seats in front of us but turn around so we can see them. Jesus Christ, they reported quickly. “Where’s Hornsby?” I ask.
“He isn’t officially a Frozen Fella yet. He hasn’t signed the NDA. Something about him wanting his lawyer to look through it.”
“You’re an idiot,” I say.
“Dude, I’m just protecting you and your interests.
He’s with Penny. If she found out about Break Blakely, you know she’d tell her.
Is that what you want? You want Blakely to know that you purposely walked around this morning without a shirt on to entice her with your rippling chest?
” He elbows me in the side. “You did that, right? You went shirtless?”
“I did, and I felt like the biggest douchebag.”
“Did she check you out?” Pacey asks.
“I don’t know. I was too fucking worried that I was making her uncomfortable to even notice.”
“Did she look uncomfortable?” Pacey asks.
“No. I don’t know. It was fucking weird, okay?”
“Did you get her breakfast?” OC asks.
“Yes, I did, and we sat and ate together and talked.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Posey asks. “It seems like you did all the right things. No shirt. Check. Breakfast. Check. Conversation. Check. How could this have gone any better?”
I rub my hand over my forehead and say, “I . . . I can’t seem to control what I say around her.”
“Uh-oh,” Silas says while pointing. “I told you guys that was going to hurt him. We could plan all the ways he can get her to like him, but it comes down to his execution.”
“What stupid thing did you say?” Posey asks. “Did you confess your love?”
“Or stumble over telling her how beautiful you think she is?” Pacey asks.
“Did you talk about your wiener?” OC asks, drawing all of our attention. He shrugs. “I don’t know, we talked about it yesterday, and I thought maybe it stuck in his head.”
“None of that,” I say before looking out the window, thinking about this morning and how easy it felt to talk to her. How I didn’t even consider what I was saying and could just be me. “I talked about Holden.”
The boys fall silent for a moment before Posey quietly asks, “Did you talk about the accident?”
“No, nothing like that, although I’ve mentioned it. I keep mentioning him, and the moments we shared.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Silas asks, his voice gentler as well.
“That’s what I’m struggling with. At the moment, it feels right.
It feels like I’m supposed to be opening up to her because she makes me comfortable, more comfortable than I’ve ever felt.
But afterward, I feel this anxious panic.
It’s a combination of regret and memories I don’t want to relive, things I’ve stuffed away for so long, and every time they resurface, it’s like I live through losing him all over again.
And I can’t seem to stop myself. Talking about him to her comes out so easily.
Then there’s the whole aspect of not wanting her to feel bad for me.
I don’t want to play the pity card. I don’t want her looking at me as the guy who lost his brother, but then I can’t stop mentioning him.
I don’t know what the hell is going on, and that’s why we need to stop this.
We need to cancel everything. I can’t live with this pain at the forefront of my mind.
I can’t possibly deal with it and play fucking hockey at the same time. ”
The boys fall silent again, and I don’t blame them. I don’t know how to handle this situation either. I’ve been thinking about it all fucking morning, regretting talking about Holden, wondering if she thinks I’m seeking pity whenever I mention him. I’m not. I don’t want anyone’s pity.
I just . . . fuck, I just want her to like me.
I want her to see me as someone she can rely on and see herself with.
But fuck, I don’t even know who I am anymore without Holden— I don’t like who I am anymore— so how could I possibly get her to fall for me? Why would someone so vibrant and full of life consider me as boyfriend material? Husband material? She wouldn’t.
“Maybe,” Posey says, taking his time. “Maybe she’s exactly what you need, and there’s going to be some growing pains that go with it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I think he’s trying to say that Blakely might be the key to helping you through the trauma of losing your brother,” Pacey says.
“And I say this delicately, man, but none of us have been able to talk to you about Holden. It’s rare if you ever speak about him, let alone hang out with us outside of hockey.
Even when we’re in Banff, you spend most of the time reading.
It’s not a bad thing, but we’re also worried. ”
“He’s right,” Silas chimes in. “You’ve shut down, yet it seems Blakely pulls another side out of you. It’s not bad, it’s just different, but a good different.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to go there.”
“You need to,” OC says, stepping in. “I lost a childhood friend back in college and I know it’s not the same as losing your twin, but it was too easy to push the world away rather than fight against that feeling and live your life, a life my friend would have wanted me to live.
This might be the first step of you coming out of that place of denial.
And yeah, it’s going to be really fucking uncomfortable and there will be days where you are sick to your stomach with reliving the pain you stuffed away, but dude, coming from experience, it’s so much fucking better living on the other side. ”
Posey pats my leg. “He would have wanted you to live your life, man. We all know that about him.”
“He’s right,” Silas agrees. “And you can’t view talking about Holden with Blakely as a bad thing.
Dude, don’t you see how special that is?
The kind of effect this girl has on you?
This is just the beginning of talking to her, getting to know her, so imagine what will happen when you spend a few weeks talking to her on a deeper level? ”
“Could be magic,” Pacey adds.
And dammit, he could be right because that word . . . magic . . . I can’t deny that’s how it feels when I’m around her.
I feel light.
I feel safe.
I feel like she was brought into my life for a reason.
But the fear of giving myself over, that is buried so fucking deep.
I drag my hand through my hair. “So what, I’m going to grow an attachment to this girl, she’s going to pull me out of this funk I’m living in, then she’ll take a new job somewhere else, and I have to sit back and think, wow, that was fun, now what?”
“No.” Posey shakes his head. “That’s why we have the Break Blakely plan, because after we’re done with her, not only is she going to want to stay in your apartment and in Vancouver but she’s going to be head over heels in love with you.”
“She is,” Silas agrees, usually the most “realistic” one in the group. “Mark our words, you’ll be proposing by the end of the season.”
“And then the Frozen Fellas will be the groomsmen at your wedding. Eli pending with the whole NDA thing,” OC says. He’s starting to slip into the delirium that my guys live in, so I’m going to have to watch him. He’s levelheaded, I don’t need him being influenced by the others.
“So you good?” Posey asks.
“I don’t know,” I say on a huff. “I mean, fuck, do I really have a choice?”
“No, and I’m glad you see it that way. Now, where are we on the furniture? Did you order it?”
“Not yet,” I answer.
“Why the fuck not? That was your homework. Pull out your phone, and we’ll do it now so you won’t have an excuse not to.”
And this is why you don’t let your friends get involved in your personal life.
My phone chimes with a text as I shift out of the bathroom where I just took a shower. Towel wrapped around my waist, I pick up the phone and see that it’s a text from Posey.
Jesus fucking Christ, this guy won’t leave me alone.
Posey: Text her tonight. Remember, tell her about the furniture and ask her how her day was.
With one hand, I text him back.
Halsey: You don’t think that’ll be weird? That’s what a boyfriend would do.
Posey: A boyfriend would FaceTime, you are texting. And it’s just being a friend. Now do it or I will run up and down these hallways screaming all night. Is that what you want to happen?
Halsey: Jesus, you’re annoying.
Posey: I’m going to bed, don’t fucking disturb me. You know how I need my sleep. If you require help with your texts, ask OC, he’s the newbie, and he should be in charge of texts.
Halsey: I’ll be fine.
I sit on the edge of my bed and pull up her name in my phone.
Her beautiful face displayed in the thumbnail of the contact actually gives me butterflies.
Jesus, I’m so pathetic.
Taking a deep breath, I type out a text message and press send.
No going back now.
Halsey: Hey Blakely. Heads-up, I have people stopping by tomorrow between three and five to deliver some furniture for the patio. Do you think you’ll be home?
I’m about to toss my phone to the side, not willing to wait around to see if she texts back, but then the dots indicate her texting, so I wait, my stomach twisting in a knot.