24. Ash
Why I dumped all of my baggage on Olivia the night before I’d be heading out for a few days was beyond me.
Months ago, I’d been selected as an alternate for the U.S.
team in a mid-season international hockey showcase, never expecting to get called up.
The original defender came down with the flu last minute, and I flew out to replace him.
Being invited to the team was an honor I never expected, though the twitch around Coach Olsen’s mouth made me wonder if he’d had a hand in my nomination.
When we landed, I walked around with my suitcase for an hour, waiting for someone to tell me there’d been a mistake, there was no place for womanizing aggros like me.
But I checked in with the manager, met the coaches and staff, and checked into my hotel room with no problem. People smiled at me, no one grabbed me, and the photos were all respectful.
I wanted to tell Olivia about this new development, but something kept me from texting her. I’d tell her when I got back.
Maybe.
But the look on her face the last time I saw her was indecipherable. She’d given me a chaste kiss on the cheek and left.
As much as I needed her to about my past, I still wished I had better timing. Spending time apart after dropping an emotional truth bomb left me wondering how she’d taken it, especially with her subdued reactions before she left for work.
I only had time to text her a handful of times while I was gone, and all of them were inane to say the least. And her responses left me even more confused.
We just landed and I’m super jet lagged, but I bet you’re not even up yet. I hope you have a good day, Barnes.
Olivia
(two hours later)
Thanks! You too.
The next day:
There is so much press for this exhibition and I am OVER. IT.
Haha that really sucks.
Later that night:
Chicago pizza New York pizza
I think all pizza is valid.
Okay, that last one was a reach, but I wanted to get something from her other than rote responses.
But where she’d usually be talkative and carry on a conversation, she let things drop.
Everything was stilted in a way it hadn’t been since we’d met, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was disgusted by me or if she felt sorry for me. Maybe both.
Trying to keep my cool for the exhibition, trying to learn how to be captain without having the opportunity to do so, trying to still be a good player and teammate, trying not to let my personal shit weigh on my relationship with Olivia. All of it hovered over me like my own personal shitstorm.
Even the few nights I spent away from her reminded me how much I hated sleeping alone. Exhaustion and stress certainly weren’t helping matters.
Nana’s constant advice and running commentary played in my head like my conscience, and it had me buying preemptive apology foliage, knowing I’d probably be unable to keep the snap out of my words whenever I saw her again.
The lack of contact made it harder to keep my temper in check, which was one of the more important tasks on my to-do list. In my first practice back, Allen did his best to be a showboating dick, cutting off my assists and slamming me into the boards more than necessary.
We used to engage in friendly ribbing as teammates, but looking back, maybe it always contained a meaner undercurrent I hadn’t noticed.
Allen’s newfound hostility left me with a sense of betrayal; I always thought we were friends.
It left a bitter taste in my mouth and a strong desire to swing my fist directly into the other man’s jaw.
It was part of the problem, I supposed. Things would come to an explosive head with Allen soon if I couldn’t get a handle on myself. But I didn’t know how.
Suddenly, I was a broody bastard, and seriously, what in the Heathcliff is going on with this shit . The next day I decided to work out in my home gym rather than conditioning with the team. Coach Olsen preferred the team to lift together, but I didn’t have it in me.
I woke up horny and sad, and that would not improve by dealing with a bunch of other dudes in a gym. Especially Allen. Nana planned to be out all day, so I had the house and the gym to myself.
Perfect. I’d be able to lift in peace. Irritation kept my hands curled around the barbell, enjoying the stretch and pull of my muscles as I pushed harder than I should. I tried losing myself in the repetition of it. Pick the heavy thing up, put it down. Up, down. Inhale, exhale.
The mirror version of me scowled as I stood staring at myself, stuck at the bottom of a deadlift with the bar in hand.
Each of my tattoos stood out starkly in the bright sunlight flooding in through the high window.
No matter how much I wanted to look away, I made myself stare at the curling leaves and twisting vines and poisonous flowers.
Maybe I’d have to add a new one for Olivia since the feeling of a fuck-up hung over my head like an axe waiting to drop.
The door opened and she appeared. “That looks heavy.”
Mirror-Olivia caught my reflected stare, and I didn’t bother to hold it for long. My gaze tracked down, flitting over the light pink sports bra and black leggings she wore. “I thought you were working.”
“The construction next door had to do work on the water lines, so they closed the building.”
“Ah.” Releasing the bar, I straightened.
“Polly mentioned Pilates, but now I’m realizing she set us up.”
“You don’t have to stay.” Stay stay stay . Please . But I kept my face indifferent.
She tapped a finger on her chin, her brows twitching into a deep v. “If you’d rather I left, I will. But I wouldn’t mind working out. I’ll stay out of your way.
This was our whole week; she was here but avoiding me at the same time, and I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
Stay, please stay. I don’t want to be stuck here in my own head.
But, for fuck’s sake, stop looking at me like a broken toy you can’t put back together. “Yeah, okay,” was what I said instead.
Olivia grinned and stuck Bluetooth earbuds in her ears. I would put money on her listening to a smutty audiobook rather than the thumping bass I had playing over the speakers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her, but she completely ignored me as she went through her workout.
Moving in the same space without interacting with her was strange.
Each time she crossed my path she was overly courteous and gave more than enough room when she passed.
Every few minutes she’d pause for water or to check her phone, but she treated me the way she would any other random guy in a gym—with complete indifference.
Was this the end? Were we over now—whatever short-lived thing we had? Did it die like this—in polite silence only interrupted by the ringing clank of iron hitting the floor? I wanted to be in this with her for good, but if she was so tense after seeing my flayed center, maybe not.
And we continued, stiffly moving past each other, until I paused for water, watching Olivia’s set.
“You’re doing that wrong.”
She kept going. Earbuds, right.
“Barnes.” Still no response, so I crossed the room to stand behind where she bent over a bench with her arm extended. I waved to get her attention.
Halfway through the movement, she paused, arching an eyebrow at me in the mirror.
“Can I show you? You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing it that way.” She rolled her eyes but stayed in place, lifting the other brow at me as if to say ‘well, go on’.
“Right. You’re arching your back too much when you lower your arm. May I?” I waved my hands over her back, and she nodded.
Several inches of soft bare skin lay between the hem of her bra and the waistline of her leggings, and it was precisely where I needed to put my hand.
Shit. I wanted to touch her and couldn’t bear it at the same time. I kept it to the smallest amount of contact possible and tapped her back with one finger.
“Here. You’re dropping your back. You should keep it flatter, like this.” I mimed a straight line in the air above her back.
Olivia did the exercise again, this time keeping her back straight, but her hips swung too far from side to side.
“Better?” she asked.
“Um. Not quite.” I moved my hands to bracket her hips, trying to keep them still as she did the movement again. “You need to keep your core tight.”
I heard the words as I said them, and somehow, despite being a whole-ass adult with my hands on a woman whose core I had intimate knowledge of, blushed.
“Oh, my core, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Personally, I think my core is fine as is.”
“Umm. Well. You—your hips were—umm?—”
“You okay, Ash?”
“I’m gonna… go over there.”
“You don’t want to teach me a lesson?”
My hands curled into fists, except they were still on her back, so my fingers squeezed into her hips. “You were doing it incorrectly. I was trying to help.”
“Ash. Breathe. I’m fucking with you. Thanks for the help.” Something shuttered in her eyes, and she looked away.
“I—am really confused.” I removed my hands, lamenting the loss of her skin beneath my fingertips.
“Me too,” she muttered under her breath. And I probably wasn’t supposed to hear that, but…
“What is that supposed to mean?” I didn’t intend to snap, but maybe it was the raging hormones I’d been trying to ignore all day, making me open my stupid mouth.
“You’ve been weird for a while.”
“No, you’ve been weird.”
Olivia blinked, cocking her head as she stared at me in the mirror. “Well, now we’ve got that cleared up…” Tugging out the earbuds, she gave me a contemplative look. “What’s bothering you?”
Don’t say it, don’t say — “What isn’t?” I winced. “I mean, a lot of things are on my mind.”
“Is there anything in particular? Can I help?” The familiar look of the problem-solving gears in her brain whirring into action caused a half-second distraction.