Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lincoln
My teammates gape at me when I walk into the locker room, our goalie Lucas wiping the corner of his eye.
“You are the ugliest fuckin’ ghost I’ve ever seen,” Archer Holt says, approaching me with open arms and a grin.
When I hug him, the room seems to collectively exhale. I step back and look around at all the faces I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again when Trin and I were searching for shelter.
I told her a lot about my teammates when we were at the cabin. Not just their individual personalities but also stories from the locker room, games and vacations we’ve taken together.
Dane Foster, whose devil-may-care attitude means he’s usually the talk of the team, embraces me tightly. He was hospitalized with alcohol poisoning on a summer trip to Mexico, and none of us were surprised he hooked up with one of his nurses during this stay—and got her to sneak him a beer.
“Great to have you back, cap.” He embraces me and claps me on the back. “It wasn’t the same without you.”
“I mean, you don’t look bad for a dead guy.” Aaron Parker puts his hands on my shoulders and grins at me. “You’re an absolute legend, man.”
Every one of my teammates joined the search for the plane after the crash. Dalton told me all about it on our flight from Seattle to Tampa to meet up with our team. They flew back to Alaska on the team plane and searched until they had to fly out for their next game, and then they returned to search some more after that.
“You didn’t get frostbite, did you?” Aiden Rogers gives me a serious look. “We won’t judge if part of your dick fell off.”
“Eat shit. I could lose half of mine and it’d still be bigger than yours.” We both bust out laughing and embrace each other.
Dalton hangs back, probably because he’s already had lots of time to catch up with me. I’m concerned about him. He’s leaner and his eyes have a haunted look. I think he’s been holding himself responsible for what happened to me and Trin, even though none of it was his fault.
Once I’ve greeted everyone, I sit down in a chair by the training room, needing a minute to myself. I won’t be dressing for games until I’ve been medically cleared, which will be a process. The doctors in Seattle released me, but it’ll take a lot more to get cleared to play hockey again.
Will I be the same? I haven’t gone more than ten days without a stick in my hand since I was eight years old—until now. And going ten days was rare. I’ll still know how to play, obviously, but will I be as fast? As sharp?
I’m only five goals away from the Mammoths’ team record for most goals scored by a single player. And since I could be traded, this season is my chance to clinch it. I should be able to get medically cleared soon since I worked to keep myself in shape at the cabin. And then I know my teammates will have my back as I chase the record.
“Lincoln, welcome back! We have so much to discuss!”
I look up to see Tamara Curtis, the Mammoths’ head of PR, standing right in front of me, a clipboard tucked against her chest.
Her voice sounds like a chirping bird. This isn’t what I had in mind for my few moments of quiet.
“Hey, Tamara. Thanks. I’m not officially back yet.”
She sits down next to me. “Which works out perfectly because it gives us time to get in some interviews before you start dressing again. I’m thinking of giving Nikki Curtis the first interview. She wants you to bring anything you have from the day of the crash, like torn clothes, that you can show her on camera. She’s working on getting Trinity Lorenzo, too. I don’t know if she’ll want you to sit down for the interview together, but probably?”
I bristle. Trinity is still in the hospital. She’s not something for some vulture reporter to “get” so they can maximize clicks and views.
“No, we’re not doing that.”
Tamara pinches her brows together. “If you need to catch up on sleep first, I tot--”
“No. No interviews.”
She opens her mouth to say something, closes it, and then opens it again. “Is there anything I need to know about your...experience? Something that could make the team look bad if it’s discovered?”
My lips part with surprise. “My experience ? We almost died. How could that make the team look bad?”
“I don’t know.” She puts her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, the press is foaming at the mouth for details about where you’ve been and what happened. This interview is a way for you to get the story out there.”
“The story ?” Anger tightens my chest. “This isn’t a story; it’s my life. Trinity’s life. And no one gets to know anything about any of it unless we choose to tell them.”
A few of my teammates are glaring at Tamara. Dalton approaches the two of us, standing next to my chair.
“This isn’t a good time, Tamara.”
She presses her lips together. “I guess just...let me know when it is a good time.”
“Never,” I say darkly, standing up. “Don’t come at me about this ever again.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
I don’t even bother responding. Instead, I go into the weight room, which is mercifully empty. I sit down on a bench, elbows on my spread knees.
Someone sits down nearby after following me into the room. I look up to see Dalton.
“This is all a lot, yeah?”
I sigh heavily and sit up. “Yeah. The cabin was quiet and peaceful, Just the two of us. And we didn’t expect to get whisked out of there like that.” I snap my fingers.
“You know you don’t have to be here, right? You can get on a plane right now and fly home. Coach will understand.”
I shake my head. “What would I do there? Go grocery shopping? Watch TV? Nothing feels right.”
Dalton meets my gaze. “Why don’t you call Trin and talk to her about it?”
“Maybe I will. I do want to check on her.”
“Look, you’re my best friend. Let’s just get it out there—you and my sister aren’t just friends.”
My lack of an answer is my answer.
“I knew it from the time I walked into her hospital room and she kept asking where you were and wanting to see you.”
“It didn’t happen right away. I tried to stay away because she’s your sister, but...” I shake my head. “I don’t know, I guess I was weak.”
“I’m not pissed.”
My brows hit my hairline. “You’re not?”
He shakes his head. “Before any of this happened, I would’ve ripped your balls off for sleeping with my sister. But I spent the better part of three months thinking you were both dead. The searchers told us after a week that there was very little chance you guys survived and I didn’t want to give up hope, but...” He looks away. “I can’t even describe the way it feels to imagine your sister and best friend knowing they’re about to die in a plane crash. Wondering if it was quick or if you guys suffered. Going to memorial services for both of you. My mom...” He clears his throat. “You guys went through something horrific, and I’m...” He wipes the corners of his eyes, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m really fucking glad you had each other.”
“You know none of this was your fault, right?”
He gives me a weak smile. “Yeah, I’m in therapy over it. But I appreciate you saying it.”
“So here’s the crazy thing...a few parts of it were horrific. The crash, obviously. And I got lost when I went looking for help and was pretty sure I was done for. But most of it...wasn’t bad at all. It was actually...good.”
“Really?” Dalton’s brow furrows with surprise. “Yeah, once we found the cabin. We listened to records and danced, talked, played Boggle, cooked...we got sick of rice and beans, but we were glad to have food. We took baths. Laughed.”
“Baths?”
I nod. “Hot baths. Perk of finding a billionaire’s cabin.”
“Oh shit. Was this like a luxury hunting lodge?”
“No, not at all. It was simple. Small. We had to use an outhouse and there was only one lamp. But it was everything we needed.”
“Are you in love with her?”
I lock my eyes on his. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“How’s that gonna work? She’s in Chicago and you’re in Minneapolis. Or on the road.”
I shrug. “I never said anything about it working. But no one knows me the way she does. No one else could get how I’m feeling right now. It’s like part of me is missing.”
A few seconds of silence pass.
“Does she feel the same way?”
“I have no idea. We never talked about it.”
“You should talk to her.”
I stand up and pace to the other side of the empty weight room. “I don’t even know what I’d be asking her for. It doesn’t feel fair to ask her to move when she has a life and a career in Chicago.”
“You can’t move there, though.”
“Yeah.” I look away. “I want to talk to her, but it feels more like an in-person conversation.”
“Are you sure things will be the same between the two of you when you’re living a regular life instead of a permanent honeymoon in a cabin? When you’re stinking up the bathroom and gone for road trips more than half of the time?”
I scoff. “You know me. I’m not a relationship guy. I don’t have the answers to any of this. I’m just telling you--”
There’s a knock on the locker room door, and Dane opens it and looks between us. “Time to go, ladies.”
We both stand up. Even though I’m not dressed in my uniform, I’m sitting with the team in an assistant coaching capacity tonight. One of the other assistants gave up his spot for me. I even had to borrow his dress clothes, and the shirt’s too tight in the arms and too big in the waist.
But I get to be with my team. They were insistent that I be with them tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll start practicing again and undergoing the tests I need to be cleared to play.
Dalton claps a hand on my shoulder as we walk out of the room.
I want to call Trin, but I don’t know what to say. I need to figure things out myself before I can talk to her about any of it.
I force it from my mind as we leave the locker room to head for the ice. I’ve made this walk many times, but it feels different this time. Like I’m not a member of the team but just there to support them.
The lights of the arena flash and blink brightly, the crowd roaring and the music pumping. It’s the polar opposite of the cabin, where soft music flowed from the record player as I danced with the woman whose body fit perfectly against mine, her cheek on my shoulder and her breath on my neck.
Impossible as it seems, or the next three hours, I have to focus on hockey.