Chapter 2 – Beau #2
I just need to make it home and have a minute to think. It will be easier to process everything tomorrow. I scrub my hand down my face, already feeling the weight of tomorrow before it even starts.
“Beau—”
“If it’s nothing, there’s no point in getting Coach involved. We both know Langley isn’t ready to take my place in the net. He’s still too green. Let me get checked out by you and the team doc.”
He leans back in his seat, folding his arms, like he’s trying to gauge just how much rope I deserve right now. “And if it’s not nothing?”
“I’ll go straight to Coach myself, I promise.”
“You sure about that?” he asks, tone calm but cutting. “Because a guy who’s sure doesn’t look like he’s ready to lie to every person who cares about him.”
That lands square in the middle of my chest. I deserve that, but I nod anyway. “I’m sure.”
Parker exhales through his nose and glances down the aisle toward where Cooper’s sitting, weighing the risk of going along with this crazy plan.
He isn’t only risking my brother’s wrath, but also his job.
Coach has zero tolerance for any bullshit with his players’ health.
He might not be our favorite person after the shit he pulled with Cole and Michele, but until the end of the season, he’s still our coach.
“Fine. Come in tomorrow morning, and if the team doc clears you, we can move on. But if anything flags, I’m taking it straight to Coach. Understood?”
“Understood.”
His expression softens a little, but not much. “You’re not bulletproof, Beau. I know you think being pulled makes you look weak, but collapsing on the ice is worse.”
“Yeah. I know. Thanks for looking out for all of us.”
Parker stands, grabbing the water bottle he never touched. “Eight a.m. Don’t make me chase you down.”
“Eight a.m.?” I gasp, feigning shock. “We probably won’t even get in until two, and then I have to get home and wind down. How about three? You and Doc can give me a quick checkup before we watch films from today’s game.”
“Did you forget that we have the next few days off for the holiday?”
“Yeah, it must have slipped my mind.”
It did not, in fact, slip my mind, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Fine,” he responds, clearly not happy about it. “But if you are one minute late, forget calling Cooper. I’m going right for the big guns.”
“You wouldn’t.”
There is no way Parker would call Momma and worry her about nothing, but he would call Alise. The tiny, pint-sized terror and bane of my existence. There’s no one else in my life that can get me to bend to their will like Alise Moore, and everyone knows it.
“I would. I’m serious about this, Beau.” Parker crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for me to respond.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.”
With a final shake of his head, Parker moves down the aisle, disappearing into the front of the cabin.
I exhale slowly, dragging a hand through my hair and trying to shake off the weight pressing down on my chest. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the seat, finally alone with nothing but the dull throb in my chest and the ache in my bones.
I have one more day of normalcy before all hell breaks loose. Going to the team doctor is the right thing to do, but why does it feel like a death sentence? Hopefully, after a good night’s rest in my bed, I’ll feel good as new.
Just as I’m reaching for my phone to shut it off for the flight, it buzzes in the seat pocket. I fish it out, thumb swiping across the screen.
Tiny Terror
Tell me why you were skating like you’re 75 and not 30? Did someone forget to oil your joints or…? Also, happy birthday, old man.
I stare at the screen, chest tightening for an entirely different reason now. Leave it to her to notice the one thing no one else dared say outright. There was something very off about me tonight. The corner of my mouth lifts, just a little. It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve had in days.
I glance at the time: 12:02 a.m. Christmas Eve. And it’s my birthday.
Of course, she remembers and is the first person to wish me happy birthday.
Well, technically, it was Cooper, if you count the ass-backward way he hinted at my birthday before the start of the game.
Alise has always been the first person to congratulate me on any major event in my life, so why should my thirtieth birthday be any different?
My thumb hovers over the keyboard as I debate what to say back. Something snarky? Something easy? Something honest?
But I know better. No matter how I respond, she’ll read through me in a second.
One word, one delay, and she’ll know something’s wrong.
And then it won’t just be Parker watching me out of the corner of his eye.
It’ll be her, too, and she has more than enough on her plate to worry about the possibility of something being wrong with me.
Instead of responding, I power off my cell and slide it back into my pocket.
I’ll respond once I’ve gotten some sleep.
Not tonight, when everything is so raw and up in the air.
Instead, I lean my head back as the hum of the engines drowns out the noise in my head, and I let that one tiny smile stay just a second longer.