21. Liv
21
LIV
I love doing the TV shows. There’s a strict time limit, everyone I work with is extremely professional, and there isn’t a horde of reporters screaming at me.
I’ve always liked having the guest spot on the local sports channels but doing it in the pros is a whole other level.
Everyone I’ve worked with has been not only charismatic but also smart enough to make me feel challenged. It also makes me feel motivated to push myself in ways I never have before.
The very best part is that I usually finish the TV spot before my men are done with their interviews or meet and greets. That gives me time to get home and scrub the stadium grit off before they come over.
So, when my phone chirps with the custom notification for our message thread, I’m so surprised that I stop dead in my tracks.
I know standing in the middle of a news station parking lot is the absolute worst place to read a private text, but I’m too worried to care.
They were all fine at the end of the game, was there some kind of accident after? My hands are shaking as I unlock my phone.
I’d say the day’s gone to hell, but I started there this morning. I don’t want to be by myself. Can I stay at your place tonight?
Ever since we were kids, Connor has been Mr. Grin and Bear it. The fact that he’s being this vulnerable only deepens my concern.
Absolutely. I’m on my way home right now. I’ll meet you there.
Do you need me to stop and get anything for you?
No , Connor replies. You’re more than enough :)
I wonder if he’ll still feel that way once he finds out what I’m hiding from him.
Of course he won’t. The fallout from this is going to be catastrophic no matter what I do. That’s precisely why I have to take what I can get as long as I can get it.
You know, I’m starting to see why some of the men back in Minnesota called you a cold-hearted bitch , the nasty voice in my head says.
I shove that thought back into the dark corners of my mind with the rest of my morals. Right now I need to focus on Connor.
I don’t know if it’s luck, a miracle, or my penchant for speeding, but somehow, I manage to get to my apartment before him.
Made it home. Feeling pretty grimy so I’m going to hop in the shower really quick. Feel free to let yourself in. I pause, then type, Oh, and there were a couple of paparazzi when I got here so use the building’s back entrance.
He doesn’t respond but I don’t expect him to. He’s probably stuck in some stadium traffic, yet another reason I love the TV guest spots. I never run into traffic there.
I grab some comfortable pjs and pop them on the ledge of the sink for when I’m done. Then I hop into a shower so hot it could steam a lobster.
By the time I come out, my skin is slightly pink and I’m feeling a little dizzy.
Did I remember to eat today?
I think I had breakfast at least. Max and I went to that French toast place.
No, that was yesterday.
Shit.
I whisper an apology to the raspberry-sized little life growing inside me and promise to try to do better.
I have no energy to cook and there’s no way I’m going to ask Connor, not with the day he’s had. So takeout it is.
I’ll just have to wait until it won’t be insensitive to ask about food. As hungry as I am, peppering him with questions about delivery the moment he gets in the door would be beyond rude.
Apparently, I don’t have to worry about that because as I step into the living room Connor walks in with a takeout bag.
“I know you’ve been talking about trying to eat more regularly, so I figured I’d bring over some dinner.”
His smile is dazzling and his demeanor is composed, but I know him well enough to be able to see through to the cracks underneath.
“I stopped at Pane Perfetto by your old neighborhood. I remember that was where you’d always insist on going for any type of celebration. I got stuffed shells for you, garlic bread, a salad to share, and a double portion of pasta alla norma for me. Oh, and bomboloni for dessert. Table? Couch? How fancy are we getting?”
He’s pulling out all the stops for me. There’s clearly something big going on under the surface. I’m worried it’ll kill him if he tries to keep this up all night.
I gently take the bag out of his hands and set it on the coffee table. I know he can sense the vibe shift because his whole body stiffens. His eyes are a mix of agony and terror when he looks at me.
“Connor, this is wonderful but?—”
“You changed your mind and want me to go. No problem. I get it.”
He tries to turn away but I catch his hand before he can. I drop down onto the couch and pull him along with me. I tuck my legs under me and turn so I’m fully facing him.
“I need you to look at me when I tell you this,” I say softly.
He clenches his fists so tight his knuckles turn white but he does what I ask.
“Okay. So what’s the but for?”
“This was a wonderful gesture, but you didn’t need to do all this. You told me you were having a bad day. That’s the whole reason you came here. You don’t have to pretend everything’s okay. I know you well enough to see right through that shit. If you don’t want to talk about it, I get it. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do or aren’t ready for. Just don’t pretend. Not with me.”
I didn’t think it was possible but he tenses up even more.
He forces a smile. “I didn’t want to go out for drinks, but I didn’t want to be alone, either. Yes, I had a shit day, but it’s not anything I won’t get over.”
“Connor, I don’t know what happened to make you feel like this but it’s okay to not be okay when you’re with me. It isn’t going to change the way I see you.”
His whole face seems to crumble. The next thing I know, I’m in his lap and he’s holding onto me with the same intensity that a child clings to their favorite teddy bear.
Connor’s hands are shaking and he buries his head into the crook of my neck. He’s quiet, and I feel a few tears drop onto my skin.
I don’t know how long we’re going to stay like this and it doesn’t matter. This is something he needs, and I’m not going to take it away from him.
He lets me go after several minutes, and when he does, it’s like he’s an entirely different person.
His eyes are warm and kind. His body appears more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. He seems softer, calmer.
I’ve caught glimpses of what’s behind that confident mask before, but this time I know I’m seeing the whole thing.
He takes a shaky breath. “It’s been so hard keeping this secret from Max. I know it's different because he’s your brother, but he’s one of my closest friends. I know it’s unlikely that he’s going to take it well, and the guilt is eating me alive. I haven’t been sleeping, I feel super overwhelmed, and I keep getting stuck in these thought loops.”
“What do you mean by thought loops?”
“Like earlier today, for instance. I couldn’t stop checking and rechecking all my pads, my equipment. Normally I’m good after two to three checks. Today, it was more than double that. I couldn’t stop adjusting my uniform because I was distracted by how it felt on my body. I missed opportunities I shouldn’t have missed, like when Max passed me the puck and I got anxious and froze because I couldn’t remember if I was holding my stick right. If I had taken the shot like I was supposed to, I could have scored but instead, I got checked. And then I couldn’t stop thinking about what I did wrong and how it’d be all my fault if we lost the game. That made the skin-crawling feeling even worse.”
He swallows hard then closes his eyes for a moment.
“I also went batshit in the locker room because my shoulder pads weren’t hanging perfectly straight in my locker. Everyone was staring at me so Max distracted them by offering to buy the first round of drinks at the bar. Then, he waited until everyone was gone before asking if I was okay so I could maintain a little dignity. How can I justify keeping a secret this big from him when he does things like that? He’s always looked out for me ever since the locker room incident in middle school. That’s how our friendship started, and I repay him with betrayal. Do you know how horrible that feels?”
I do know how horrible that feels but if I admit that, then I’d have to share my secret. He’s already stressed enough. I don’t need to add to it by dropping the baby bomb on him.
Instead, I ask, “What locker room incident? I thought all of you had the same gym period and you and Dimitri just kind of got folded into the group.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
“So what is true?”
“Well, you know that I was a scholarship student at Foxcroft Prep, right?”
I nod.
“What you don’t know is that I used to be a shy kid. I never really participated in the locker room talk about girls. There were some guys that made certain assumptions because of that, and they made my life a living hell. There was one of them in every single class I took, but gym class was the worst because all five of them were in it. October fourteenth was the best, and worst day of my life that year, because that’s when the shoving turned into punching. They cornered me and beat the shit out of me. I don’t know how far it would have gone if your brother, Aiden, and Dimitri hadn’t jumped in and saved me.”
“That’s awful. That kind of behavior is disgusting I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I got a few things out of that day. Friends, obviously, but I also figured out that no one wanted to see that side of me. Everyone I’ve tried to open up to has left except for them. Can’t you see that the longer we keep it from him, the worse of a betrayal it is? I don’t know how much longer I can hide this, and I know Aiden and Dimitri are feeling the same way.”
“I understand. Believe me, I do, but what would you even say to him? How could you possibly describe it in a way that won’t ruin your friendship? We don’t even know what this is. We just agreed that we’d start screwing around again. It’s not like any of us have said that we want anything serious. Maybe he’d get over it if you were my boyfriends and he knew things went beyond just an exclusive hookup. But we all know that’s never been what this is.”
“And what if that’s changed? What if we do want something permanent?”
My heart, dirty traitor that it is, leaps in my chest, and for a moment, I let myself hold on to that hope.
I’d be delusional to think that could ever really happen.
“Connor, the three of you started a fight that almost ruined your friendship over the possibility of dating me. How do you expect me to believe you won’t do that again over the possibility of something more serious?”
The look he gives me makes my heart clench.
“Things are different now that everything is out in the open with the four of us. Can’t we at least talk about it with everyone before you write it off?”
You know what else that group meeting would be good for? Ripping off the Band-Aid and telling them you’re pregnant.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
“You’ll do it? Just like that?”
“Yes, just like that.” I sigh. “But can we at least wait until you have a bye week? I don’t think I’m emotionally capable of handling that conversation during an on week, especially not with the playoffs this close.”
“That’s probably for the best. Besides, what’s a few weeks in the grand scheme of things anyway? It’ll be over before you know it.”
Yes.
Yes, it probably will.