Chapter 21 #3
While I’d buckled under the pressure of being their captain after we’d lost Leif, it had never dawned on me what it might do to them if they had to bury another captain.
“Shit,” I whispered, reaching back to rub my neck with both hands. “I fucked up bad, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t.” The “not yet” went unspoken, but I heard it just the same.
“I would have, though.” I sat up again, facing him even though meeting his eyes filled me with renewed shame. “If you hadn’t been here, no one else would’ve stepped in.”
“You don’t know that. I’m probably more tuned into it than most people, so I picked up on it right away. But someone would’ve noticed the cracks sooner or later.” He looked right in my eyes. “I know you were trying to keep it out of everyone’s sight, but you can only do that for so long.”
I wanted to be embarrassed by that, but I think I’d hit embarrassment saturation at that point.
And if anything, gratitude hit me. That despite all my efforts to hide what was happening, I would’ve failed eventually.
That I’d had someone on my team—on my line—who knew the subtle signs to watch for so I didn’t have to hit rock bottom first.
I pushed out a ragged breath. “I guess I’m lucky Pittsburgh signed you.”
He laughed quietly. “It worked out, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. It did. In fact…” I took a deep breath. “You want to hear something crazy?”
Peyton watched me with a mix of caution and curiosity.
My voice shook, but I managed to get the words out: “One of the last conversations I ever had with Leif was about you.”
“It… It was?”
I nodding, staring down at my hands. “He knew I had a thing for you. Had for a long time. So when we found out your were coming to the team…” I laughed almost soundlessly.
“When I kissed you in the hotel… Yeah, I was drunk. I don’t even remember it all that clearly.
” I made myself look in his eyes. “Just… don’t think being drunk was the only reason I came on to you like that. ”
He stared at me, his expression unreadable. “Oh.”
Shame and embarrassment coiled in the pit of my stomach, and I dropped my gaze again. “I’m sorry. For what happened in the hotel, and for bringing it up now. I…” I laughed as I raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t even know why I told you that.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Because…” He shifted a little, suddenly flustered in a way I couldn’t quite understand. “Listen, to put it bluntly, the feeling’s mutual.”
My head snapped up, which didn’t do much to ease the throbbing inside my skull. “It is?”
“Yeah. I was… Coming to Pittsburgh, I was really excited to be on your team. And not just because of the way you play hockey.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
A blush rose on his cheeks as he flicked his eyes away and nodded. “Yeah. And it’s… That hasn’t changed, you know?”
“Not even after I’ve made a complete ass of myself?”
“You haven’t, Avery.” He met my gaze again. “You’ve been going through hell. I’m not holding it against you or judging you for it.”
“But I…” Heat rushed into my face. “God, I blew it, didn’t I? With everything I—”
“No,” he whispered. “You didn’t blow it.”
I searched his eyes, disbelieving there was any coming back from the last several weeks. And yet at the same time, I had an odd sense of déjà vu. As if we’d had this conversation already. Or at least brushed up against it. Last night, maybe? Christ, I could only imagine how that had gone.
“You didn’t blow it,” Peyton said again. “But you need to focus on you right now. Not the team, and not… whatever this is.”
I swallowed. Well, at least he tried to let me down easy. I could read between the—
“If there’s something here”—Peyton gestured at himself, then me—“it’ll keep, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be here as your friend and your teammate while you’re getting through this. The rest? We can figure that out later.”
I blinked. “We can?”
“Of course we can. There’s time. I was attracted to you before I came to Pittsburgh, and I still am. I can wait.”
I had no idea how to process that. After all the reasons I’d handed him to wash his hands of me and decide I wasn’t worth a damn, he was still here.
He was going to help me get into rehab and therapy.
And somehow, he still thought there was potential for something to happen between us.
Something good, rather than all the recent bullshit.
The thought of waiting, though, didn’t sit right. I was suddenly antsy and nervous, filled with a sense of urgency I’d never experienced before—a panicked feeling like it was now or never. If we didn’t do this now, then we might never get the chance.
It only took a moment for those pieces to click into place:
If we didn’t do this now, then there was a possibility one or both of us could be gone.
Because I’d lost someone who’d seemed like a permanent fixture in my life. I’d taken for granted that Leif would be there—that night at the bar, later that month at training camp, and well into the rest of our careers and into our retirements.
What if something happened to Peyton?
My throat was getting tight again, and I had to swallow hard. “Oh God. I think I do need therapy.”
He furrowed his brow. “Why’s that?”
“Because I want to jump into this right now. I’m terrified to not do it right now because…” I had to grit my teeth to keep from choking on my own words. “I don’t know how to make plans for the future when I’m still trying to get used to someone being gone the way Leif is.”
Christ, that sounded so stupid and pathetic. I wasn’t the first person in the world to lose someone. They figured it out. Why the hell couldn’t—
“That makes sense,” Peyton said softly.
“It does?” I laughed halfheartedly. “Because it makes sense in my head, but when I say it out loud…” I flailed a hand.
“It does,” he confirmed. “My therapist once told me that happens sometimes when someone gets slapped in the face by their own mortality. Suddenly nothing is guaranteed anymore, so they’re in a hurry to do everything before time runs out.”
“Oh. That… Shit, yeah, that makes sense.” Then I studied him. “You have a therapist?”
“Had one.” He gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Now that he mentioned it, yeah, it kind of was. As dialed in as he was about things like this, it made perfect sense now that he’d been to one.
“Sounds like it was good for you,” I whispered. “I kind of don’t want to sit down and dissect everything going on…” I gestured at my head. “But maybe it’s what I need.”
He put a hand on my arm. “It’s worth a try.”
I nodded slowly. Nothing else was working, that was for sure. Especially not drinking myself numb.
The thought made me wince, and I sighed. “The player assistance program—do you know how that works? Will they suspend me?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I mean it—I’ll go with you to talk to the front office about it.” He gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
The lump again rose in my throat, but it wasn’t from crushing grief this time. I covered his hand with mine. “Thanks. I’ll, um… Let me get dressed, and we can go to the training center.”
Peyton nodded, then looked down at himself. “I should probably grab a change of clothes, too. Maybe a shower?”
“Right. Of course. Why don’t we go back to your place, and I’ll call the front office while you’re getting dressed?”
“Sounds like a plan.”