Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
WADE
Wade: I blew it.
Luke: Bro, it’s late. Why are you up?
Wade: Can’t sleep, obviously.
Ethan: I’m guessing this has to do with Bree.
Wade: Give the man a gold star. (Snicker)
About a month ago, after an away game and a few beers, Ethan let it slip to me that his wife, Mia, who’s a schoolteacher, found another use for the gold stars she gives her students. The implication was clear, and I can’t resist throwing in a little snark of my own.
Ethan: The vault, man. Did you forget?
Wade: My bad. Sorry, not sorry?
Elias: I already knew, so cool your jets.
Ethan: Excuse me while I wake up my wife.
Mathéo: What happened, Pierce?
Wade: Bree told me what went down with her ex. I want to frigging kill him.
Luke: I understand that you’re feeling jealous as hell, but this seems like more than that.
Mathéo: So insightful. Those therapy sessions are really expanding you, Jammer.
Luke: Shut up, Barbie-man. Anybody could tell Pierce’s beef with this guy goes way back.
Zayne: I agree with Mathéo. Very insightful.
Ethan: Who added the rookie? (No offense, Z.)
Mathéo: I did. After that stunt he played with the new mascot, I figured Zanie earned a probationary trial with the big guns.
Elias: Big Guns? I like that. We needed a name for our chat group. Adding it now.
Ethan: Seriously? I think we can do better.
Luke: Zanie? What the hell is that?
Mathéo: His new nickname. The kid’s a prankster. It suits him.
Zayne: Not the worst I’ve been called.
Wade: This is useless. Forget I said anything.
Luke: Not going to happen, man. Guys, shut up and listen.
Wade: I didn’t handle it well.
Ethan: As in…?
Wade: As in, I blew up. I don’t mind competition, but this guy, Langston, took it to a whole new level after junior league.
Luke: For what?
Wade: Being better. He wanted to be a goalie, but couldn’t cut it. I did. He’s had it out for me ever since. He used Bree to advance his career and cheated on her. I know he did this to get back at me.
Elias: Sounds like you made this about you and not what he did to your girl.
Wade: What? No. And she’s not my girl.
Elias: Yet. Did you reassure her? Tell her it wasn’t her fault?
Wade: I told her I wasn’t mad at her.
Ethan: Pierce, I say this with love, but that was a douchey move, man. Brunner’s right. You should have been there for her.
Elias: E, thank you for affirming my insight.
Ethan: Don’t even. I’m still pissed at you, man.
Elias: Why? Wade’s the one who spilled the tea.
Ethan: Spilled the tea? Bro, you really need to stop reading those gossip columns.
Elias: Is Mia mad at me, too?
Ethan: I’ve officially banned you from talking to Mia EVER AGAIN.
While the E-team hashes it out in our thread—and I’ll take that I like the name “Big Guns” to my grave—I rehash my discussion with Bree in my head.
Even before I screwed up by implying Bree wasn’t mature enough to make a solid choice about who she dated, I did nothing to make her feel heard or seen. Instead, I made her feel worse.
Deep down, I think I am a little mad at Bree, too. And hurt.
But only because she didn’t choose me.
Wade: Like I said, I blew it. I have to fix this.
Luke: Tomorrow’s another day.
Elias: See? So insightful.
Luke: I need a grunting emoji.
Zayne: I’ll get right on that, Cap.
Luke: And brown-nosing will get you booted out, Zanie.
Zayne: …
Too exhausted to read any more of the fellas’ antics, I plug my phone into my charger and turn it face down on the coffee table. I toss the room-temperature ice pack to the floor with an unsatisfying thump, wishing I could go for a run instead of sitting alone on my couch.
I’m not sure yet how I’m going to fix things with Bree. But one thing I do know?
It’s going to be a long night.
What is that sound?
I crack open an eyelid enough to note my living room is filled with light. Normally, I wake up on my own long before now, but after the night I had, I set an alarm, just in case I overslept.
That’s what I’m hearing—my stupid alarm. I reach out to smack my screen, but the blaring sound continues. Then I remember I turned it face down last night because I didn’t want to read any more texts in the Big Guns chat.
Guess the name stuck with me.
As I sit up, I grab my phone and stop the torture device. That’s when I notice an unread message from Bree.
Bree: Hey, I didn’t want to wake you this morning. So I’m sending a text. I’ll either be at the Sandpiper Inn or, if they’re still full, I’ll find a cheap hotel for a few nights. I think it’s better this way. Really. You need your bed back, especially now that you’re recovering.
I know she’s using my recovery as an excuse for the real reason. And I don’t blame her. I acted like a jerk last night when she needed her best friend. I’m such an idiot—how could I do that to her?
Despite the slight protest in my thigh, I launch off the couch toward my bedroom. The door stands ajar, and the light’s off. When I flick it on, I note the pile of sheets sitting on the floor, yet the bed is neatly made. I open one of her drawers, but it’s filled with my socks and underwear again.
The empty side of the closet and the lack of her toiletries in the bathroom confirm the unsettling reality that she’s gone. And that I’m the biggest tool on the planet. Ethan’s right. I’m a douchebag.
But I’m not a big enough one to let Bree wind up at some fleabag motel. We need to talk. I take the quickest shower of my life, dress, and shoot out the door to go to the arena.
Like I told the fellas, I have to make things right between Bree and me. Not to mention my nana will have my hide if I don’t. But more importantly, and at the very least, I need my best friend back.
I arrive at the arena well after the rest of the guys get there for practice, but with time to spare before my physical therapy session with Hannah.
It takes forever for the elevator to reach the third floor.
I thrum my fingers on the side of my leg, waiting for what seems an eternity for those doors to open.
Our general manager stops me on the way to Bree’s office. “Wade, how’s the groin?”
In normal circles, this would be an awkward question, but not in the hockey world. Zach Keller was a killer on the ice and dealt with several injuries himself until a knee injury ended his career, so I know he understands.
“Getting better every day. I’m hoping Hannah will clear me for the game on Saturday.” I glance down the hallway for any sign of Bree.
“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing you back out there.” He pats my arm and then continues toward the elevator.
When I reach Bree’s office, she’s not there, so I head to Harper’s desk to see if Bree’s in a meeting with Rebecca, the owner.
“Hi, Wade! How are you feeling?” Harper stares up at me with genuine concern pinching her face.
“I’m good. Thanks for asking.” Attempting to appear cool, I tap my index finger on her desk. “Is Bree in a meeting?”
She shakes her head. “She went downstairs to grab us coffee. She’ll be right back.”
“Great. Okay if I wait in her office?”
“Sure. I’ll let her know you’re waiting for her.”
Harper’s next words stop me in my tracks.
“I’m really looking forward to having Bree as a roommate. Do you know what her favorite snack is? I thought I’d stop at the store on the way home and grab a few things to make her feel welcome.”
I turn to face her. “Roommate?”
“Yeah, we just figured it out. The timing was perfect, too. My roommate moved to California with her boyfriend last month. I was about to give up my apartment and move back in with my parents, which would have been a nightmare.”
She shudders at this, reminding me of what went down with our former GM, who’s also Harper’s father. The man treated his own daughter like trash while he tried to manipulate the team for his own gain.
She gives me a sheepish look. “Hope you don’t mind my stealing her.”
Feeling the air in my arguments deflate, I pull on the back of my neck. “No, that’s okay. I knew she couldn’t stay with me long since I don’t have a spare room.”
Holding her hands up, Harper smiles. “And I do! See? It’s perfect.”
I nod, then turn around to head to the elevators. There’s no point in talking to Bree now. She landed in what I hope is a safe place, and something in my gut says I need to let her go—let her find her own way, no matter how much I want to jump in and fix things for her.
Harper’s voice calls from behind. “I thought you wanted to talk to her. Should I tell her you were looking for her?”
I turn briefly, shaking my head. “Don’t bother. I’ll catch her later.”
“Okay.” Her expression turns puzzled.
She can imagine whatever she wants. And I’m sure she’ll mention that I stopped by.
Not certain what I’ll say to Bree now, aside from a very sincere and necessary apology. And I’m the one who wanted to find her a place as soon as possible, so I didn’t have to constantly hide my feelings for her when she was so close.
Close enough to touch but not available…or interested.
I should be relieved. Really.
Too bad I’m not.