Chapter 2
HAILEE
Hayden lowers his head, dropping his eyes to the floor, and my chest tightens.
I know that pain. I also remember just how raw it is in the early days.
Grief is no joke. It’s debilitating. Inescapable. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, let alone someone as sweet as him.
“I don’t know what else to say,” he confesses quietly.
My need to reach for him again, to hold him, makes my fingers twitch, but I force myself to stay back.
I acted on impulse and pulled him into my arms without thinking. But now, standing here in his hotel room, I’m second-guessing myself.
He probably doesn’t want me here. One of his friends, his teammates, would be better, but for some reason, the second I saw him dart across the hallway, I couldn’t stop myself.
I saw the concern on the guys’ faces earlier. I saw the messages on Bea’s cell that hadn’t been replied to. I might not know Hayden all that well, but I know enough to know he’d never leave his friends on read. He cares too much for that.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Hayden is everyone's best cheerleader. He’s the enthusiastic rookie who’s usually bounding around the room with far too much energy despite how much strain he puts his body under during practice.
So for him to be absent and for no one to know why…it had alarm bells ringing.
“You don’t need to say anything.”
“But you need a story,” he says, risking a look up at me.
“What?”
“I know the season is coming up, and I know…” He pauses, releasing a heavy breath. “I don’t know how I’m going to do it.” His head falls back and his eyes close, pain oozing from every inch of him. “I don’t know how I’m going to go out there and pretend that everything is okay.”
“No one is expecting anything of you,” I say softly.
I startle when he barks out a laugh.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Is it?” I ask. “Those guys down there are your friends. They don’t—”
“I’ve lied to them. I’ve been lying to them since I moved to LA. I’ve been…” He drags his hands down his face. “The person they think they know doesn’t exist. It’s all been an act. All of it.”
I shake my head, unable to believe that the person Hayden has shown us isn’t real. His zest for life, his passion and commitment to a sport he loves…that can’t be faked.
“I know you’re hurting right now,” I say, taking myself back to a time I try my hardest to forget and thinking about what I would have wanted to hear.
“And you feel like the world has shifted under your feet. But I promise you: your friends will be there for you. They will want to support you, and they won’t care about a few little lies you told to protect yourself.
“Despite everything you’re going through right now, you turned up today. That alone shows me that what you just said isn’t true. The person we’ve come to know over the past year is very much you, Hayden. While it might take you some time to find him again, we all know that he’s still there.”
He releases a shaky breath.
“How?” he whispers.
I stare at him, wondering which bit he’s questioning.
“How do I find him again?” he clarifies.
“Time,” I say unhelpfully. “I know that isn’t the answer you want. But it’s all I’ve got.”
He stumbles back and drops onto the bed, his head in his hands.
“I don’t want time. I don’t want to keep moving forward, knowing that she’s not here.”
His words cut right through my chest, and it takes every ounce of strength I possess not to burst into tears again.
He doesn’t need me to break down right alongside him. He needs strength, and usually, that’s exactly what players get from me.
If they want softness, they go elsewhere. With me, they get the hard and sometimes painful truth.
“We can’t fix what has happened. We can’t rewind the clock and try to figure out a different outcome, no matter how much we might pray for it. All we can do is try to find a way forward, to fight to live a life they’ll be proud of.”
His head lifts suddenly, his gaze finding mine.
He doesn’t say anything, but I dread to think what he can read in my eyes.
Lock it down, Caldwell.
Lock it the fuck down.
“What would your sister want, Hayden?”
I met her a couple of times over the past year. She was a sweet, quietly spoken girl. And she looked at Hayden as if he were the most important person in her world.
They might have been the same age, but there was no doubt that she looked up to him as her protective big brother.
Only, it seems he wasn’t able to protect her from everything.
“She’d want—” His words turn into a sob. “She’d want me to be downstairs celebrating my friends’ wedding. She’d want me to be getting drunk and embarrassing myself on the dance floor while laughing until my belly hurt.”
I nod, his words confirming what I already knew.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Hayden. This is your journey, your grief. But I want you to think about what she’d say if she were here right now.”
He sniffles, a tear spilling down his cheek.
I feel like an asshole for making him cry again. But I don’t regret the words that push him over the edge.
“She might not be here physically anymore, but she’ll always be with you, and there is no chance that she wants you missing out on anything. Regrets last a lifetime, Hayden. The important events in our lives can’t be redone, and time never stops, no matter how much we might wish it would.”
His shoulders slump, and he curls forward once more.
“If you need anything, I’ve got my cell. I know it’s easier said than done, but everyone downstairs wants you with them today. If you can find the strength to show your face, they’ll show you exactly how much they’re missing you.”
I stand there for a few more seconds, but when he doesn’t say anything else, I take a step backward and then another.
He doesn’t speak again until I have my fingers wrapped around the door handle, ready to pull it open and slip out.
“Hailee.” I squeeze my eyes closed, hating how palpable his pain is. “Thank you.”
“We’ve all got your back, Hayden. Lean on us. We’ll help keep you standing.”
I leave those words hanging in the air, knowing damn well they’re true.
I might not be his friend. I’m the woman who bosses him around and keeps him on the straight and narrow.
Hayden makes my job easy compared to the others, and I may secretly have a bit of a sweet spot for him, but I take my position very seriously, and I keep the line drawn between the players and me at all times.
And anyway, he doesn’t need me. He needs the guys downstairs. They’re his people. His family.
I’m…I’m just the PR Director who might know a thing or two about what he’s going through.
I roll my shoulders back and hold my head high as I walk to the elevator and press the number for my floor.
Before I can show my face back downstairs again, I need to fix my makeup.
Crying wasn’t on my bingo card today, and I refuse to face anyone until all evidence has been banished.
I give myself an hour. I figure that the wedding party will be busy having their photos done, and everyone else probably won’t have even noticed that I’ve disappeared.
By the time I walk out of my hotel room again, my eyes are no longer red-rimmed, my eyeliner is on point, and my lips are fire-engine red once more.
As I descend through the building, unwanted butterflies begin fluttering inside me.
I never feel like this at work. I know my job, my place, and I don’t deviate from it.
But here, at an event I’m not managing, or have any part of while with the majority of the LA Vipers organization, I can’t help but feel on edge.
They’ve all built tight bonds over the years.
The coaching staff, the medical staff, and, of course, the team.
The marketing department is no different.
They’ve done their best to drag me into the fold.
Invited me out for team lunches, days out, and birthday drinks, but as their manager, I’ve declined every time.
The only non-work event I’ve attended recently was Parker and Linc’s engagement party, and I only agreed to that because Parker pulled out the puppy dog eyes.
I roll my eyes as I picture her begging me to agree, to be there to celebrate with them.
I’m not sure why she made such a big deal out of it. But her insistence finally led to my caving and agreeing.
It was a good night. But I can’t say I felt at home surrounded by everyone. I know it’s my own fault. I’m the one who’s built her walls so high that no one can scale them. It’s just…it’s safer this way. If no one gets close, then no one can walk away.
I get up in the morning, work out, go to work, kick ass at my job, and then I go home to sleep. That’s all I need in my life right now.
Soft music plays as I walk toward the bar, in desperate need of a drink. There are people littered everywhere, sitting on tall barstools at tables, on couches, and at the bar, but no one pays me any attention.
Or at least, I think that’s the case, because no sooner have I ordered a glass of prosecco than someone calls my name.
“There you are. Where did you disappear to?” Freya says as she approaches, Cole trailing behind her with a beer in hand.
“Oh, uh, my cell rang. I had to get it.”
“You can have a day off, you know,” Cole mutters.
“And leave who to put out all the fires you guys create?”
“We’re all in one room,” he says, looking around. “Well, kinda. How much trouble can we cause today?”
I raise a brow. “You’ve met your teammates, right?”
He chuckles. “Fair play.”
“So, where is the happy couple?” I ask.
“Down by the lake, having photos. It’s so beautiful over there,” Freya breathes.
“They’ll be done soon, right?” Cole asks.
“Don’t tell me…you’re hungry,” I deadpan.
“We all are. And we’ve had to give all the snacks we were carrying to Bea. How is that fair?” he sulks.
“She’s literally growing another person,” Freya points out. “You should have brought your own snacks.”
Cole groans. “Maybe if we didn’t burn off breakfast after we—”
Freya smacks him in the chest before hissing, “Shut up,” and making our goalie belly laugh.
“Sorry, Hailee, please ignore him.”
“You say that like it isn’t my full-time job,” I tease.
“Hey,” Cole argues. “I don’t talk half as much shit as some of the others.”
“You’ve got a point there,” I say. “Excuse me, I’m going to see what’s happening outside.”
I take off, lured by the sun and the promise of silence.
It’s not that I don’t want to be social, it’s just that…okay, fine.
I don’t want to be social.
Since moving to LA, I’ve lived my life on my own terms, and that generally means that if I’m not at work, I’m alone. And I’m okay with that.
I like my own company.
The best part is that there’s no one who can let me down; no one who has the power to affect my life—just the way I like it.