Chapter 59
Chapter Fifty-Nine
NATHAN
I toss the pain pills in my gym bag and stuff the entire duffel in my locker. As I’m closing up, I hear my voice playing through someone’s phone speaker.
“This is my Riley playlist.”
Music fills the locker room.
I groan. “Guys, how many times—”
“You are the reason I live, the reason I love, the reason I am…”
One by one, my teammates start singing the lyrics of the first song on the playlist.
I sink my head into my hands.
I know better than to respond to their teasing—revealing my embarrassment makes the ribbing that much sweeter for them—but I can’t help it.
“What’s the name of the playlist?” Renthrow asks. He pretends to hold a microphone to McLanely’s mouth.
My voice blasts from the video. “I call this playlist ‘She Fell First, But...”
Chance says, “But I Fell…”
The entire locker room sings, “Harder!”
“Yeah, yeah. Glad you’re having fun,” I grumble, pasting on my pain relief patches.
It’s no longer convenient for me to hide them. Plus, I use less pain relief patches now that I’m taking the pills, so I’m no longer at risk to raise eyebrows.
“That is the cheesiest way to clap back,” Coben says, laughing with his mouth wide open.
Coben got signed to the Lucky Strikers when I did and he’s an excellent goalie replacement for Watson.
“Respect, man.”
I slap away the hand that Coben extends in front of me.
“What? I was being sincere?” He snorts.
“I would shrivel up and die before I posted something that cringy on the internet,” another person comments. “No relationship is worth that humiliation.”
“That’s because you haven’t been in love before, Graham,” Renthrow says.
Kinsey, who’s silently observing everything, nods. “I think it was cool. I should make a playlist for Rebel.”
“The guy lost ten aura points just posting that horror show,” another person shouts.
“What are ‘aura points’?” Renthrow asks Kinsey.
“It’s like someone’s cool points,” Kinsey says.
“Ah.”
“It might seem cringy to you,” I announce, “but what’s important is that it got the haters to shut up and leave Riley alone. That’s all I wanted.”
“Mission accomplished, Campbell.” Coben sticks up a thumb. “All everyone can talk about is how you’re a simp for this girl. Now, please turn in your man card.”
“If Cambell’s a simp, what does that make me?” Chance arches an eyebrow.
Coben’s smile wipes off his face.
“Let’s not forget. I’m still the champion of the ‘simps’.” Chance slings an arm over Coben’s shoulders. “When people were being disrespectful to April online, I held a press conference and told everyone how amazing she was. A playlist can’t compare to a press conference, right?”
Coben shakes his head. “Sorry, McLanely. A press conference is old school. Campbell posted to his stories for the first time ever. Social media is where all the buzz is at. You don’t need a press conference anymore.”
Chance pouts and removes his hand from Coben’s shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind on the ice later, Rookie.”
Coben’s eyes tremble in fear.
I pick up my phone, tuning out the noise of their conversation as I check my notifications.
No new messages.
My stomach sinks to the bottom of my toes.
It’s ironic.
The entire team, no, the entire world knows how I feel about Riley, but our relationship is in the worst shape it’s ever been.
Still, I don’t regret making the video. I thought long and hard about how I was going to address what Layla did. I even consulted Renea, who advised me the way I thought she would.
‘Layla is a clout chaser. People are already questioning the premise. Just ignore it and it’ll die down eventually’.
But I didn’t want to ignore it.
I wanted to make a statement about my feelings for Riley in a way that wouldn’t give Layla any of the attention she was looking for.
The post I made was a success. Without directly calling Layla’s name or referring to her podcast, I declared that I’m more obsessed with Riley than she ever was with me.
But it still hasn’t fixed what’s wrong in my relationship.
Riley has been ignoring my calls and texts.
“Until you decide to see a doctor and get medical treatment, don’t come to me.”
I was hoping she was just lashing out in fear, but I should have known that Riley doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean.
After practice, I get the urge to stop by Riley’s shop, but I somehow resist. I don’t want to test her boundaries, so I give her the space she demands, hoping that she’s seen the video and knows that I still love her.
That I still want her.
That I would do anything for her.
Except go to the doctor.
Conflicted, I stay late at the stadium to practice, fighting through the pain without my usual dosage of pills.
It’s a struggle, and I have to cut practice early.
This is torture.
I miss Riley.
I want to take her on another date. I want her to roll her eyes and make one of her off-hand remarks that are unwittingly hilarious.
I want to hold her hand. Kiss her. Take her for a drive to see more stars and airplanes.
I want to hear the latest about her shop and tell her the news I just heard from McLanely. Theilan—the guy from the original Lucky Strikers team—is playing against us this week.
Don’t come to me.
I’m doing the best I can. Our first game is in two days and now that I’m trying to wean off the pills, I’m more anxious than ever that the pain will strike in the middle of an important play.
Night falls as I drive on autopilot and I somehow take a wrong turn because when I stop, I realize that I’m in front of Riley’s apartment instead of in front of my house.
The light is on in her living room.
I imagine her, hair up in a ponytail, wearing a tank top and shorts, sitting cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by her auto mechanic books, a laptop open with waveforms that speak a language only she can interpret.
Wanting to be closer, even if it’s just by one step, I climb out of my car and stand by the hood, staring up at the building.
In the distance, I hear a motorcycle engine rumbling.
It gets louder and louder before it stops directly by me.
“Nathan Campbell?”
I’m stunned to find a petite woman on a bike the size of a dinosaur. The woman, clad in leather, removes her helmet and shakes her head so that her jet-black hair swishes around her cheeks.
“Cordelia?”
“Are you waiting for Riley?”
I straighten to my full height and slip my hands into my pockets. “I was just about to leave.”
Cordelia gives me a strange look. “I can call her down.”
“No.” I clear my throat. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
“Ah.” Cordelia nods as if that explains a mystery.
“Did Riley say something?”
“No, nothing like that. When we showed her the video you posted, she got kind of agitated and told us to take it off.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Cordelia waits a beat.
“Delia, can I… get a woman’s perspective on something?”
Cordelia arches a brow.
“Say, hypothetically, someone has two equally important things to protect. How do I explain to someone important that I can’t let go of either one?”
“I don’t follow?”
“You see how Renthrow has Gordie to protect? But he also loves you at the same time? If both of you were in trouble, he’d have to run and take care of Gordie first. You wouldn’t be offended, would you?
You would see it as him protecting someone he loves just as much as he loves you. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I get it. You’re saying if I show my significant other that I love something or someone more than them, how do I get them to be okay with that?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Not exactly…”
Cordelia settles her helmet against her side, her eyes burning passionately. “You know, I think this is a huge misunderstanding when it comes to dating a single dad. I’m glad I get to clear this up.” She tosses her hair. “Renthrow doesn’t love me and Gordie equally. He loves us differently.”
“Well, yeah. Gordie’s his daughter and you’re his girlfriend.”
Cordelia shakes her head as if I don’t get it.
“One of the things Renthrow and I discussed, and I think he’ll be okay if I share this with you, is the way his previous marriage ended.
And why. He said that if he had to do it again, he wouldn’t be so obsessed with his dreams of having a family.
What he learned is that, going forward, he’ll put that amount of care and thought into his wife. ”
My eyebrows climb. I knew Renthrow was divorced, but I’ve never heard the details about it.
“That’s not to say he doesn’t love Gordie or wishes she weren’t here—”
“Trust me. I know,” I say with a nod.
Renthrow’s love for his daughter is a legend. I had the privilege of seeing one of the lunch boxes he makes for Gordie and, let’s just say, the guy should have his own cooking show.
“What Renthrow means,” Cordelia speaks firmly, “is that he’s discovered the importance of pouring into his partner and his daughter.
If his daughter gets this much attention as his child,” she raises a hand, “his girlfriend should get this much attention as his partner,” she places her hand equally next to each other, “or more.”
“Why more?” I wonder.
Cordelia smirks. “Let me ask you this. When you were trying to convince Riley to date you, what did you tell her?”
“‘Please be my girlfriend, Riley’.”
“I mean what did you promise her? Probably something along the lines of the love songs from your playlist.”
“I guess so.” I nod.
“That means you probably told her that you’d give her all your attention, all your love, that she’d be the most important part of your world, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“More than hockey?”
I blink rapidly as I remember my bold declaration to Chris.
‘I care about Riley more than hockey’.
“The problem is, guys know exactly what to say when they want a woman, but they somehow forget all these grand promises when they actually get her.”
“Wow. You should have a podcast, Cordelia.”
“No, no. Not at all.” Cordelia laughs. “I love fixing cars too much. And honestly, I just switched camps. I used to blame everything on women because I tend to be really hard on myself.”
“What changed?”
“Renthrow showed me, by his actions, what it means to be a priority in a man’s life, even when he has a child. The more he loves me, the more I love him and Gordie. Heck, if Gordie was in trouble, I’d run past Renthrow to get to her.”
We both laugh.
“He doesn’t turn his love into a competition. I don’t have to compete for his attention with Gordie. I don’t have to compete for his attention with hockey. And I want that for other women. I want that for Riley. She deserves it.”
Her words resonate in my heart. “I want Riley to have that too. I really do.”
“Okay.” Cordelia nods at Riley’s apartment and then stares pointedly at me. “So what are you going to do?”