Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JULIAN
“Are you going to be able to keep your hands off Host?” Anders nodded to the TV where the LA Storm’s last game was playing. We always watched films at my place. Normally, Mason and Tyler joined us, but they had family shit going on.
“If he can keep his mouth shut.” I checked my phone, waiting to hear from Wyatt. I didn’t know if she had plans tonight. Anders was still talking about the LA Storm.
“Jules.” Anders snapped his fingers.
I looked up from my phone. “I’ll be fine if Host keeps his mouth shut.”
Anders sat back on the couch. “Are you going to tell me who you’re fucking?” he asked as he paused the video. “I thought you didn’t have time for a relationship.”
I sat back on the couch. It would be easier if I didn’t. I enjoyed having Wyatt to myself. “If I tell you, promise not to freak out?”
Anders turned to face me. “Oh my god. Jules.” He frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why would you do that? You said you were done. You hired a divorce attorney. What the fuck, man? She is worse than the clap.”
“It’s not Emily, it’s Wyatt.” Wyatt’s name slipped so easily from my mouth. I couldn’t even think of her as Cassidy anymore.
“You can’t go back…” Anders paused. “Wyatt? As in the Wyatt I may or may not know?”
“You know a lot of women named Wyatt?”
“I know one.”
“Then we know the same one.” I hit play on the game.
There, it was done. I told him, and now we could move on.
Next I’d tell the team. Going public with Emily had been easy.
She was in the same circle. Most of the girlfriends and wives were familiar with the sport.
Friends of a friend. That was what Emily had been. Wyatt was an outsider.
“Wow, okay.” Anders took another sip of his beer. “I didn’t realize it was that serious.”
“We’re not talking marriage yet. Hulton likes to shoot from the left circle, you see that?” So had my father. People loved comparing Payton Hulton to my father. The little shit even said he idolized my father. He could fucking have him.
Anders choked on his beer. “Yet. Bro, you’re not even divorced from the first one. Pump the breaks. And I’m not sure you’re ‘dating’ someone if you are paying them.”
“Seriously? Fuck off, Andy.” It would be easier if Wyatt and I kept to ourselves. The season was almost over. There were only fifty-two games left in the regular season. Fuck.
“What do you want me to say? I feel like I don’t even know you. You’re never around anymore. You weren’t at cards last night. You’ve been late for the gym every day. You skipped it yesterday. It’s like you’ve found someone… oh, you have.”
People often teased Anders for his blondish hair. He wasn’t dumb, but he didn’t always connect all the dots in life. He, like most players, never went to college. There was no need. The NHL came calling, and we went running. “Stop being so dramatic. What the fuck did you think I was doing?”
“I don’t know, therapy or AA or something?”
“AA? I’m not a drunk.” I looked at the one beer I was still nursing. “At least not anymore.” Last summer had been rough. It was easier to be drunk when I was around the players who had witnessed Emily and me break.
“Okay, but you’re still an asshole.” Anders winked over his beer bottle.
“What are you talking about?” My phone vibrated. It was Mason confirming numbers for Christmas.
“What are you talking about? Oh shit, did you see that? Host took out Manny.” Anders was watching the TV. “Fuck, he is going to feel that.”
“Host likes those dirty hits.”
“You can’t let him bait you, Jules. Any more time in the penalty box, and Coach is going to need to go to AA.”
“Why would he go to AA?” My phone buzzed again. Walker, another teammate, had chimed in about Reno.
“Is that Wyatt?” Anders asked, not looking away from the TV.
“No, Trembles and Walker asking about Reno.”
“You’re not thinking about asking Wyatt, are you?” Anders didn’t look at me.
I hadn’t really thought about it. It would be a soft launch. The guys who went were the ones I could trust. They’d treat Wyatt with respect. “You don’t think I should?”
Anders paused the TV and stared at the frozen picture. I had known Anders since he was eight. His family was my billet when I played for the Knights. I spent more time with his father than my own. “You don’t think that’s a good idea?”
“You know she’s an escort, right? And that she—”
“Yeah, I know. What’s your point?” It always came back to what she did. Like I needed a daily reminder. “I thought you liked her?” I picked at the label on the bottle.
“I do.”
I could hear the hesitation in his voice. “But?”
Anders sat back and let out a breath. “I’ve known you most of my life.
I’ve watched or been part of every game you’ve ever played.
And I’ve never seen you as shaken as you were after what Emily did.
I was worried she was going to be the reason we lost you as a player.
” He looked over at me. “Wyatt is great. She’s smart, and from what I’ve seen, she’s done wonders for your game.
But man, how can you be okay with what Wyatt does but let what Emily said destroy you? ”
There were parts of my relationship with Emily people didn’t see.
Emily wanted to be in the spotlight. She wanted to be Mrs. Julian Silver because at the time, my name was in those bright lights.
When it wasn’t, she found someone whose name was.
As much as I hated to admit it, Payton Hulton was and would continue to be a great player.
They’d talk about him as a player for a long time.
I’d be the son of Quinton Silver. The player who could’ve been something.
“She didn’t destroy me, just bruised my ego a bit.
And Wyatt is not Emily.” Why did everyone think I didn’t understand this?
Why did they feel the need to start every conversation about her with that?
Yeah, she’s great, but… I hated that. She was more than sex. And that part of her life wasn’t mine.
Anders rubbed his face. “She still has sex with other men.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Wasn’t this my problem to worry about? Wasn’t I the one who was going to have to deal with this? It wasn’t like Wyatt threw it in my face. She didn’t get drunk and tell a room full of NHL players how much better her clients were than me.
“Are you? Man, think about this. It’s still sex. It’s still not socially acceptable. Unless you two are in an open relationship and you, too, are going to start—”
“Shut up. I wouldn’t do that to her.” I sat back on the couch.
“But she can do it to you?”
“She’s not out fucking random men for the fun of it. It’s her job. And forget it, okay?”
“No.” Anders took a deep breath. “I’m not going to have another season like last. I can’t watch you self-destruct. What would you do if you saw her with a client? If they were out for dinner?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you should.”
“Why? Because I have so much fucking free time that I can stalk her? I have never seen her before, and I have lived in this city for three fucking years. I have attended events at the Sands and countless other casinos, and never have I run into Wyatt. Your sister is her fucking assistant. And still, I never saw her before that night. So why now? Why, suddenly, am I out having dinner without her and she without me?”
I had only guessed that she might’ve been at the Starlight Sands that night for Halloween. A woman who looked like Wyatt would be invited to a Maverick Sands party. Everyone knew he had working girls. I had been worried she would be there for work. I hadn’t planned on staying or talking to her.
“Because that is her fucking job!” Anders yelled back. “Why are you being so blasé about this? You act as if she’s a receptionist at a dental office.”
“Where she could be fucking the dentist or half the patients for free and that would be okay with you?”
“No. But it’s the same thing. She is cheating on you every time she sees a client,” Anders threw back at me.
“So that’s it. She doesn’t deserve to be in a relationship, and I have no right to have feelings for her because you have decided that you can’t live with what she does.
Emily was a yoga instructor who had a drinking problem, who fucked a teammate, and yet she’s more worthy of forgiveness and respect than Wyatt? ”
“No, I’m not saying that. Jules, it’s not that black and white.” Anders picked at the label on his beer bottle. “What if someone from the team finds out? Or worse, how you two met? That you paid her to have sex.”
“It was your idea.” I thought back to if I had said no. I would’ve never met her, and I didn’t want to think about where I’d be right now. “Are you going to tell them?”
“Fuck no. But if someone does, how will you protect yourself? Your name is already smeared all over social media. Shaw loves to bring up the last All-Star break, and Host will be shouting it from the fucking roof. This was never meant to be anything more than you getting out of your own head. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with her. ”
“No one said love, Anders.” I’d been in locker rooms and played team sports since I was ten.
There were very few things my teammates didn’t know about me.
But my feelings for Wyatt were mine. “I asked if I could bring my girlfriend to Reno. If the answer is no, say it.” Then I wouldn’t be going. I saw enough of Anders and Tremblay.
“It’s not that. It’s… you realize what she does. She—”
“Yes, I do.” A message flashed across my screen: it was Wyatt. “What’s done is done. I can’t change it. And I’m not breaking up with her.”
Anders flopped back on the couch. “I knew something was up. I hoped that it wasn’t her.”
“You really don’t like her?”
“No, I love her. Not in that way. I love her for you. I’ve never seen you more stable.
I don’t think crackheads are as high-strung as you.
But man, I want a cup. I don’t have as many years left as you do.
Teigen wants a family, and I want to be there for that family.
I want to go back to Canada. This might be my last chance.
I’m not you, Jules. I can’t do this forever.
” Anders blew out a breath, looking at the still images on the screen.
“And I’m afraid if this ends badly between you and Wyatt, it’s going to fuck with your head worse. ”
I groaned, rubbing my face, lying back on the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. Why could he not see that Wyatt wasn’t the issue? I was.
A therapist once told me my personal relationships would always fail because I had spent so much of my life being part of a team that I didn’t know how to act outside of one.
I never went back. I didn’t want to listen to how hockey was messing with my life.
How it made me more prone to violence or alcohol abuse.
Because my team was the only constant in my life.
They never let me down, and I wouldn’t let them down.
And then I met Wyatt.
“I don’t want to break it off, Andy. She’s unfucked my head, and she keeps it unfucked. And I know you’re going to say that I should go to therapy. I tried that, and it didn’t help.”
“You do need therapy. Fuck, we all do. We are hockey players. And I get it. I need Tee to get through this fucking season. Through playoffs. I can’t imagine trying to keep it all together without her. So promise me that if it goes bad, you won’t lose your head. Or I’ll be forced to take you to AA.”
“Anders, AA is for people trying to quit drinking. I’m not trying to quit drinking. But you might want to think about it.”
“It’s not Assholes Anonymous?”
I looked over at him, my head still resting on the back of the couch. “Please tell me you’re kidding?”
“No, that’s what Margo told me it meant. I asked Trembles, and he said yes.”
I lifted my head. I didn’t mean to laugh at him because I thought he really meant that. “No, that’s not what it stands for. As far as I know, there is no Assholes Anonymous, and I’m hurt you think I need that. It’s Alcoholics Anonymous.”
“Fuck. No wonder everyone looks confused when I say Murry needs AA.” He shrugged.
“After dealing with you, Murry probably does need AA.” I sat up, stretching. “Maybe I’ll sit Reno out.”
“Or you bring her and see how it goes. Tremble’s girlfriend, Hannah, is a bit of a bitch. That’s according to Tee. But between Tee and Ray, she should be fine. If it goes bad, then you’ll know what you have to do.”
“And if it goes good?”
“Then maybe Wyatt will need to get that job at the dental office.”
“I’m not going to tell her to quit.”
“If she wants you, she will. I will say, since you’ve been having sex regularly, you haven’t been as high-strung.”
“I am not that high-strung.”
“Right. How many hours are you at the gym?”
“You could use a few more hours there.” I had been drafted into the NHL when I was seventeen. Played my first NHL game the day after my eighteenth birthday. I was playing against men who were bigger, faster, and hit harder. The only way to survive was to be bigger than them.
“Nah, my underwear model career fell through after I got my front teeth knocked out,” Anders teased.
“Get a new joke.” A former teammate’s girlfriend had stumbled upon some Julian Silver fan club and found a few photos from my very brief modeling career. It wasn’t even a career; it was a paid promotion for compression shorts.
“Nope, that photo of you in those tight black underwear is burned into my retinas. Was that a sock or—”
“Are you done?” It still came up sometimes in the locker room. Anytime we got a new guy on the team, he’d show up with a photo and ask for an autograph.
“Nope,” Anders said, pushing play on the remote. “Seriously, was that a sock?”
“I need better friends.”