Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
WADE
The smack of darts hitting boards brackets us on both sides, along with the chatter of voices and the aromas of burgers and fries.
Our server walks over with the pitcher of beer Ethan ordered, deposits it and several glasses on a nearby high-top.
She takes one look at us standing there, staring at each other, and hightails it back to the bar.
Elias glances to his left and then to his right as if he wants to know if the others are as shocked as he is. “I did not see that coming.”
Mouth hanging wide enough to catch flies, Ethan nods in agreement.
Pay-man drags a hand down the side of his face. “I’ve experienced a bit of that myself, mate.”
He has my full attention now. Maybe he can help me figure out what to do next. He fell hard for his bodyguard—way before she showed anything for him.
“Lily?”
He snickers. “Never saw it coming.”
Could that be what happened to Bree? Did she catch unexpected and sudden feelings for me? “Did it make you want to run?”
“No, quite the opposite.” His expression turns sheepish as if he’s embarrassed. “She’s the one who resisted.”
“Sophie did, too. When I screwed up.” Luke growls and stares at his feet.
Things definitely got tense around here when Sophie came on the scene, and Luke had to agree to an interview—Rebecca had requested a series of profiles on the team for the local paper to help bring the fans back after the scandal with the previous owner.
Come to think of it, I do recall him being grumpier than usual through all of that.
But my situation is different. I know exactly what I want. Or rather, who. My problem is that I don’t know how Bree feels about me. Beyond the whole best-friend status, I mean. “Not very encouraging, fellas.”
“Yeah, but once we got our heads on straight, we went after our girls.” Luke glances at Payton and Ethan, who nod reflectively.
“When you know, you know.” Ethan shrugs, grinning.
Pay-man lifts a finger as if to push pause on Luke. “If I recall correctly, my head remained quite straight and very much focused on winning Lily over.”
“More like out of your mind.” Ethan gawks at him.
Payton flashes a cheeky grin. “I think of it as determination.”
Sighing, Ethan tilts his head back. “Whatever helps you look in the mirror, Your Highness.”
Payton’s smile drops faster than a flying puck hitting the ice.
I’m about to lose my patience with these two when Zayne—or Zanie as Mathéo calls him—walks up to the group, hands in his pockets with a skittish expression on his face. “Sorry I’m late.”
Mathéo smacks him on the chest with the back of his hand. “Got any experience with amour?”
“More what?” Zayne frowns.
I’m pretty sure Mathéo’s cursing in French under his breath, and that his affection for the prankster slid down a few notches. “Love, you idiot. No one appreciates my language.”
Mason rocks back on his heels. “I thought we were playing darts.”
“This is useless.” I take a step forward, heading for the gap between Elias and Mason, who also showed up for this throw-down because it’s the clearest shot at an escape.
They close ranks on me. The rookie already looks terrified, so I stare Elias down. “You really want to get in my way?”
He doesn’t back down. “We’re trying to help you, bro.”
Luke tugs on my shoulder from behind, forcing me to turn around. “How about this? We have a beer, play some darts, and if you feel like talking, we’ll listen.”
I consider, then give a tight nod. Coach must be more concerned about me than I realized to pull this stunt. So, for the sake of my job, I'd better go along. Or at least try to.
Payton grabs the darts from the board, steps behind the line, and shoots two in the red bullseye and the last in the green outer ring. “Blast. Can’t believe a Texan outshot me.”
The weight in my chest lifts some. They may feel a little too much in my face at the moment, but these guys have my back on the ice, and apparently outside of the arena, too. Maybe I don’t have to figure this thing out on my own.
Snickering, I spin around and face Pay-man. “We’ll always outshoot you…mate.”
I wind up having two beers instead of one, but I figure the activity of throwing darts will help burn off the alcohol more than if we were sitting and talking. Plus, we’re hockey players, so we have to put some moves into how we throw—that’s part of the challenge.
Funny thing is, keeping my hands busy and my brain distracted made it easier to open up.
I have to give Luke kudos for suggesting we come here instead of the Turtle Tide.
Every team has a captain, but Luke seems even more vested in us since he reunited with his father.
He’s older than most of the other fellas, so it makes sense. I’m the one closest to his age, though.
By the end of our first round of 301—which I won despite Pay-man’s posturing—I’d filled them in on what went down last night with Bree and our kiss—the full rundown.
“Let me get this straight,” Ethan pauses, “you’re back to being best friends…”
“Even though you kissed?” Elias chirps in, finishing Ethan’s sentence.
I think those two have become a team off the ice, too. I’m beginning to understand why Mia calls Elias Ethan’s work wife.
“Yeah.” I thought I made that obvious.
Mason tilts his head at me. “But are you really?”
“What’s your point?” I take a step in his direction, leaving less than two feet between us. I’m a few inches taller than Mason—taller than most of the guys—so staring him down is easy.
He shoots a nervous glance at Luke, who nods at him to continue.
Mason swallows as he returns his attention to me. “Does it feel the same? Like before?”
Talk about a truth gut-punch. I take a step back and rub a hand over my face. Less than twenty-four hours have passed, but the longing, the hunger I have for her is stronger than ever. “It’s worse.”
“You have to find a way to put that aside when we’re on ice, Cowboy.” Compassion fills Payton’s expression.
Or is that commiseration? We all had a front-row seat, watching the Pay-man’s reserved exterior crumble into a love-sick puppy, pining over his bodyguard.
But the implication that I could fail them hits a sensitive spot, like I just got cross-checked by my entire team.
I whirl to face him. “Don’t you think I know that?”
Leaning away, he holds his hands up. “Whoa there, partner.”
He’s trying to defuse my anger—I get that, but it only makes this feel worse.
It’s as if all the things that matter the most to me are at risk—my relationship with Bree, my family ranch, and now hockey.
I’d avoided a groin pull my entire career, but every hockey player knows our time in this game runs on a clock.
I have some great years under my belt, but I’m in the second half of my run.
So, I can’t help worrying that this is just the first injury of many to come.
There’s also the situation with my family. I still haven’t told them about Nana wanting to sell our ranch. When I finally worked up the courage to call and ask her why she’d made this decision without talking to us, she told me she didn’t want any of us to give up what we loved doing.
Still, it didn’t sit right with me to let go of something that had been in our family for several generations, but Nana said it was time, and that was the end of the discussion.
Like I said before, I get the part about her meeting someone and wanting to enjoy the remaining years of her life traveling and doing things she didn’t get to do when she was younger.
And I’m pretty sure her refusal to consider any other alternative is her way of ensuring my sisters and I don’t sacrifice our dreams to fulfill some sense of duty.
But what if there’s something more going on? What if she’s sick and not telling us? Or is it about money? I don’t make the big bucks like the NHL players, but I could tighten my budget, rent a cheaper place with a roommate, and delegate some of my income to help.
But would it be enough?
I can’t find out for myself, though. Not yet, anyway.
Our schedule is too tight until Christmas.
Next week is Thanksgiving, but we have a game the day before and after, so there’s no time to go home.
Nana said she didn’t plan to move forward until after the holidays, but waiting until Christmas to figure this out is almost torture.
“Is there something you’re not telling us, Wade?” Luke’s use of my first name grabs my attention.
Might as well get it all out in one go. “Nana—my grandmother—wants to sell our ranch.”
A series of noisy breaths and low whistles fills the air.
Except for Luke. He grunts. “That’s rough, man.”
“Thank you for stating the obvious,” I snap back.
His shoulders rise, and his jaw tightens.
I’m pushing his patience. Might as well say what’s been banging around in my head like a ping-pong machine. “I may have to choose.”
That’s as much as I can say out loud, but judging by their faces, they know exactly what I mean. Even Mason gets it. And something in his expression makes me think he’s dealt with a tough choice like this one in his past.
Pay-man hands me the darts. “Keep playing. Keep talking. We’re going to help you figure this out, mate.”