Chapter 13
thirteen
Ethan
M y beautiful Tessa looks so forlorn, like she already knows what I’m going to say. Her jaw is clenched tight. Those lips I can’t get enough of are pressed into a thin line. There’s no way around it, our snowed-in time is over. Looks like it’s going to be difficult convincing her that what we’ve found here this weekend doesn’t have to end.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she says in a flat voice.
“I have to. There’s a match in a couple days and practice in three hours.”
“I know. I knew this wouldn’t last.” She stands and rests her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll help you pack.”
Not like there’s much to do but toss a couple things back in my duffle. “Not necessary, honey. I’d rather spend what time there is left holding you.”
Instead of flowing into my arms, she steps back. “What about Buffalo?”
“Coach says they’re not ready to make a decision between me and another guy. They want us both to come work with the team.”
“How soon will you need to leave?”
“Don’t know. Tessa, let me hold you.”
She wraps her arms around herself and shakes her head. “I wish you wouldn’t. I’d hate myself if somehow I stood in your way of success. It’s better—for both of us—if you just leave.”
Leaving isn’t better. Figuring out why she’s put up this wall between us is what we should be doing. “Honey?”
“Just leave. Text me or something when you leave. You’re going to be great. A fabulous addition to the Buffalo Blades. Now get going. You’ve committed yourself to hockey and you don’t want to miss practice.”
“Tessa, why won’t you listen? Why won’t you talk to me?”
Finally she moves closer but instead of entering my embrace, she stops even with my shoulder and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Because there really isn’t anything to say.”
The impact of her words keeps me frozen as she leaves the bedroom. I hear a door open and close, probably the one room I haven’t been in. Anger bubbles in my chest. Fine. If she wants to be this way—whatever way this is, she damn well can do what she wants. I stomp from her bedroom to the guest room and cram my clothes and kit into the duffle.
Slipping the strap over my shoulder, I stand in the doorway. There’s no sound from her hiding place and I debate with myself for a long time whether to barge into the room, or knock and see if she allows me in, or to just leave.
I choose the fucking idiot’s way and pause with my palm against the door. “I’m leaving, Tessa.” I ache to spill my soul to her and proclaim my love. It wouldn’t do any good. She wouldn’t hear the truth, only what she’d consider placating words. This is it then. “Goodbye.”
Fuck. Shit. Damn. Hell, I’ll figure out how to fix this—us. I’ve fallen for Tessa twice. The first time she didn’t know and I left town. Just like I’m doing now. This time will be different. We’ll find a way. Because I can’t let her go again.
The drive back to Linoma isn’t long but still gives me way too much time to think. Even before reconnecting with Tessa, I wasn’t excited about leaving the Lynx. Moving up is every players’ plan. I’m not sure when my desire for hockey fame started to sour.
The conversation I had with the tow truck driver earlier replays in my mind. He’s one of the volunteer coaches for the littlest kids and complimented me on how well I handled them on the ice. Said I got them to do things they never would for their coaches.
Star struck is what I’d replied.
He’d tried to convince me otherwise. Then he said the high school coach is retiring at the end of the school year. The eventuality of becoming a coach has been in the back of my mind for a couple years. It’s a way to stay involved with a sport I love. I’m not that old, but there are days my body just doesn’t feel like being slammed into the boards.
I’ll bring that up when I talk to Coach. Probably before I tell him I’m going to turn down any offer the Blades might make.
I stop at my apartment before heading to the rink and walk into the exuberant screams and sound of pounding sex coming from Bruiser’s room. Fuck. Just what I don’t need. I’ll grab what I need and?—.
I must have stood here too long because the apartment is silent. There’s no way in hell I want to see that black-haired bitch so I rush to my room and shut the door. Since there’s scheduled practice, Bruiser won’t allow her to stick around long.
Six minutes later, the front door opens and closes. Bruiser knocks once on my door. “She’s gone, man. Safe to come out now.”
He’s leaning against the wall grinning when I open the door. “How’d you know I was home?”
“Duffle’s by the door. Hey, can I get a ride to practice? This cold killed my battery again.”
“You really need to buy a new battery at least. A whole new vehicle would be even better.”
“Maybe once the seasons over. Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be ready.”
Alone with my thoughts again, I manage to keep my focus away from Tessa. Nearly fucking impossible. On the way to the rink, Bruiser talks non-stop about—oh hell, I have no clue what he’s blabbering on about.
“Can I offer you some advice?” I ask when he pauses for a breath. At his shrug and interested expression I continue. “Stay away from that one, Bru. She’s a crazy bitch.”
He knows exactly who I’m talking about and rolls his eyes. “Yes, Dad. No worries. She definitely ain’t all that. Unless the all that is filler and silicone. Besides, she’s too loud when she fakes her orgasms.”
“She does? Yeah, the loud I heard.”
“Doubt she’s ever had a real ‘O’. Didn’t even get near the fun bits and she was already panting and screaming. Probably watches porn and takes notes.”
Thankful Bruiser was able to make me laugh, I enter the rink and head straight for Coach’s office. For once he’s in when I’m looking for him. He jabs his finger toward the metal chair and I drop onto the cold seat.
“I hear that other than the weather, your Krampusnacht event went well.”
“I suppose. Coach, I want to turn down the Blades offer. I don’t think it’s the right move for me at this point.”
His eyes narrow and he studies me for so long I start to squirm like a misbehaving four year old. How does he do that?
“So, what’s her name?”
“What? Who?”
“The woman that’s got you so tied up in knots.” He gives me his best ‘you’d better not lie to me’ frown.
No need to hide what I want. “Tessa.”
His eyebrows jerk upward. “The event coordinator? Pretty damn quick, don’t you think?”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids. Everything just came together this weekend.”
“So now you don’t want to move to Buffalo.”
“She’s not the only reason. I’m feeling in flux. Like things are changing, I’m changing. And I don’t want what I did before. Not sure what I do want but I am confident I won’t find it with the Blades.”
“Uh huh. Shut the door.”
Only then do I hear the noisy rumble of my teammates entering the building. I reach out and shove the door so it shuts.
“Here’s the deal, kid. I don’t know exactly how you feel. I met my wife at the end of my playing career. Would I have felt the same as you if we’d met earlier. Hard to say. Times are different now. There’s more opportunities for athletes once they stop playing the game.”
“I’m considering coaching. Probably high school level.”
“Heard you did a damn good job with the kids. You’ll be a great coach. One who brings out the best in their players.”
The back of my neck heats at his praise and I return an honest compliment. “I’ve had an excellent role model.”
“Enough mutual admiration, kid. Here’s the thing. If you don’t at least make an appearance with the Blades, word gets around. Should you decide to continue playing after all, there’s a good chance teams would be reluctant to consider you. See you as a risk. Could be career ending.”
He leans back in his chair allowing me time to come to terms with his words. My shoulders droop. He’s right. I’ve seen it happen. “So what do you suggest?”
“Go to Buffalo.” He pats a large manila envelope. “I’ve got your flight, housing, and team creds right here. Stay and give it a try for at least two weeks. That’s enough time to get to know the players and management. Show your stuff off in a few games. Then decide what you want to do. Want to retire? Consider finishing out the season with the Lynx. Our standings are great.” He raps his knuckles on the desk. “Knock wood. We could be in contention for the Calder Cup. May not seem like much now, but it’d look damn fine on your resume for coaching positions.”
He's right and his smirk grows when I stand and hold out my hand for the envelope. “Your flight’s scheduled for tomorrow morning. Keep me in the loop. Now suit up. You need to be at your best for the Blades.”
The Buffalo Blades are a great team, a tight group of men who have each other’s back. They still welcomed me and the other candidate with an openness I haven’t often seen in a team. They’d be a great organization to skate for, but even without adding Tessa to the mix, they’re not the team for me. I last three weeks, the final week only because I covered for an injured player.
I’m back with the Lynx and other than some good natured teasing—because they all believe the Blades didn’t want me, not the other way around—it’s as though I never left.
During my lonely weeks in Buffalo, I’d picked up my phone to call Tessa more times than I can count but never could push the button to connect the call. I drafted hundreds of texts and emails, only to trash them immediately. What we need to say to each other can only be done in person.
I’ve been back five days. We’ve got a rare three day break before the next game and I intend to spend every hour I can convincing Tessa to be mine.
No other outcome is acceptable.