Chapter 3
HAYDEN
Hailee’s words ring in my head long after she’s walked out of my hotel room.
I know what I should do. I know what Rylee would want me to do. But it’s hard. Really fucking hard. And I’m aware that by not showing up yesterday and bailing on the service this morning, I’ve made my life even harder.
If I had gotten out of the car last night and faced my friends, then I wouldn’t have to do it now when almost everyone I work with is under one roof.
Hell, if I’d just told them what I was dealing with when I first moved here, then none of this would be happening right now.
I shake my head.
Hailee is right about regrets.
Not only do they last a lifetime, but there’s fuck all you can do about them other than try to accept that at the time, you thought you were making the right decision.
Even if I know deep down that I wasn’t.
I never wanted to leave Rylee, but I was doing exactly what she asked of me by moving to LA and playing for the Vipers.
I don’t think I ever saw her more excited than the day I got drafted.
Her dreams had been smashed to smithereens, and that meant my dreams became hers, and I had made them come true. I’ve never been prouder and seeing her smile meant everything to me.
Leaving, though…fucking hell, that sucked.
When we were kids, we’d always planned that she’d follow me wherever I was signed. But as the years went by, it became obvious that that was going to be impossible.
She’d have loved LA. We grew up in a small town and always dreamed of city life. I hate that I got to experience it without her, but she insisted that she was happy living vicariously through me.
I suspected otherwise, but I wasn’t ever going to call her out on it.
Five minutes ago, my cell buzzed to let me know that dinner was going to be served in fifteen minutes.
When I first heard it, I thought it would be Bea again, hoping for an update, but to my surprise, it was Hailee.
The clock continues ticking, and I know that if I don’t move soon, everyone will have taken their seats, and all eyes will be on me when I walk in.
I can’t have that. The only two people who should have everyone’s attention today are Linc and Parker.
“Come on, Monroe. You can fucking do this,” I tell myself as I pace back and forth across my hotel room. “Just go down there, take your seat, and laugh along with the guys like everything is right in the world.”
I pause in front of the mirror. It takes me a couple of seconds to look up, and the moment I do, I regret it.
I don’t look like myself. I look like…well, I look like the other half of me died.
Pain cuts through me, grief pressing down so heavily on my shoulders, it’s a surprise I don’t crumble to the floor.
But I fight it. I fight it so fucking hard.
I hold my head high and ignore my pale skin, the contrasting dark circles beneath my eyes and the scruff I can’t be bothered to shave from my chin.
“You can do this,” I repeat, turning around and leaving my hotel room before I can convince myself otherwise.
I’m a mess by the time I’m walking toward the ballroom. Thankfully, there are still people milling about, which means I’m not too late.
A few people notice me, jerk their chins in greeting, and a couple wave, completely unaware just how much it’s taking to show my face right now.
Rolling my shoulders back, I straighten my tie and force my legs to carry me into the vast room where the reception is taking place.
I quickly scan the room, but there’s no need; the noise from the table where I should be is enough to tell me where they are.
“Monroe, where the fuck have you been?” Killer bellows the second he spots me.
Instantly, the laughter that was ringing out halts, and one by one, every single set of eyes at the table turns to me.
Dread sits heavily in my gut, and panic has my breathing starting to increase.
Fuck. I can’t do this.
I can’t—
“I’m so glad you made it,” a soft voice says a second before I’m wrapped in a set of arms, a familiar scent filling my nose.
I blink, clearing my vision, and find dark curls beneath my chin.
Bea.
“Hey, man. It’s good to see you,” a deep, rumbling voice says as a giant hand clamps down on my shoulder.
I glance over to find a man I’ve looked up to since I was thirteen.
Everett Donnelly.
Fuck.
I never in my entire life thought I’d get to play with him. The day he got traded to the Vipers, I thought all my Christmases had come at once. And now, to call him not just a teammate but a friend…fuck. It blows my mind. I just wish I could stop being such an idiot around him.
“I-I—”
“We’ve got you,” Bea says, taking my hand in hers and squeezing in support. “We’ve missed you so much,” she says as she leads me toward the rest of the guys.
I take my seat, my eyes immediately drifting to the place setting in front of the empty seat beside me.
Hailee.
My heart rate picks up, embarrassment heating my cheeks as I think back to what she witnessed earlier.
The guys continue chatting as if nothing has happened. I guess to them, it hasn’t. I don’t know what Bea and Rett have said, but not a single one of them makes a big deal about my lateness. Instead, they just continue as if my arrival isn’t a big deal, and I couldn’t be more relieved.
I listen as they tell tales of what they’ve been up to over the past few weeks and discuss their plans for our final few days of freedom before training camp starts.
As much as I’m craving the distraction of getting back to normal life, where hockey takes up every single waking second, I’m also dreading it.
What if I can’t pull my head out of this darkness and focus?
What if I can’t be what my team needs? What if they can’t rely on me to do my job like they did last year?
What if they don’t want to?
My stomach knots as the panic returns.
Dragging in a deep breath through my nose, I release it through my mouth, willing myself to calm down.
Once again, my eyes drift to the name beside me before I glance around.
Where is she?
I haven’t been surrounded by this many people since…since Rylee’s funeral. Everyone there expected me to fall apart. Here, though, they want me to be Marilyn. The happy-go-lucky rookie they all love to tease.
“Have you managed to get any training done at home, Marilyn?” Killer asks, suddenly dragging me into the conversation.
“Uh…yeah, a bit.”
“That sounds ominous. We’re not gonna take it easy on you this year; you’re not the new boy anymore.”
I frown, trying to remember how the old me would respond.
“Pfft, as if you took it easy on me,” I deadpan.
“Oh, just you wait,” Killer warns.
“They’re joking,” Bea assures me. “Right?” She looks at Rett, who’s standing behind her, waiting for the signal to take his seat at the head table, hoping for him to reassure me.
“We can’t tell you all our secrets,” Rett teases, although the wink he sends me settles me a little.
No matter what, I have a feeling he’s going to keep an eye on me.
“I’m ready,” I lie. “We’re gonna do it this year.”
Despite the fake positivity I force into my voice, the others latch onto it and start cheering.
I look around the table, seeing smiles on the faces of everyone who made my first year in LA so much more than I ever could have expected.
And I don’t just mean because we got to the Stanley Cup Finals, but because they welcomed me with open arms, invited me into their little family, and supported me as I embarked on my first year in the NHL.
I thought I was ready, but nothing can prepare you for just how full-on it all is.
But these guys—and their girls—took me under their wings and ensured I was coping every single day.
I don’t know what I did to deserve them, but I’m incredibly grateful.
There’s movement by the entrance as the final guests are ushered into the room, ready for the bride and groom’s arrival.
But Hailee isn’t one of them.
Leaning toward Bea, I whisper, “Where’s Hailee?”
“She had to take a call,” Bea explains.
“What did Rett do this time?” The sound of her laughter makes me feel a little lighter and gives me just a hint of hope that deep beneath all this pain and grief, the old me might still be there.
“Nothing that I’m aware of, but who knows.”
I sit back, watching the open doors as discreetly as I can. Every time I see movement, my heart lurches.
I want to see her, but also, after what she saw, maybe I don’t.
I don’t need the empathy that was written all over her face when she looked at me earlier to be noticed by anyone else around the table.
Everyone else takes their seats, the volume in the room increasing along with the anticipation.
Just when I think she’s going to miss it, someone bursts into the room, stealing everyone’s attention.
She lifts her hand, trying to hide herself as she rushes to the only empty seat—well, aside from the bride and groom’s—and drops into it.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathes, quickly getting herself settled. “I thought I was going to miss it.” I watch her as she takes a sip of her prosecco and then smooths her hair down.
Sensing my attention, she turns to look at me.
“Ah, you made it. Good to see you, Hayden.” She gives me a supportive smile, and I swear I see a little pride in her eyes.
“Of course he turns up just before the food is about to be served,” Cole points out. “Only reason we're all here.”
“Don’t let Parker hear you say that,” Kodie mutters.
“I’d rather tell Linc to his face than Parker,” Cole deadpans. “That woman knows how to cause pain.”
Agreement rings out across the table before someone softly clears their throat at the entrance to the room, stealing everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please stand up and put your hands together for your bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Storm.”
Everyone around me claps, but my hands don’t move from my sides. I might have watched the ceremony earlier, but seeing them together, the smiles on their faces and the happiness in their eyes…it hits me in the chest like a fucking sledgehammer.
I want that.
I want to have someone standing beside me who owns my heart and soul.
I guess having a twin has given me a taste of what it’s like to have someone always on your side. And now that I've lost the connection I had with Rylee, I want to find my girl more than ever.
I watch some of the guys hooking up with the bunnies, and sure, it looks like a whole lot of fun.
For a while, I convinced myself that living that kind of lifestyle would fulfill me the way it does them.
But after a few nights out, dancing with bunnies who only wanted me for my name and status…
well, let’s just say it quickly lost its appeal.
I want more than to be a bit of fun for the night.
I want what Kodie and Casey have, Linc and Parker, Cole and Freya, and now Bea and Rett.
I want to find my person and plan the rest of our lives together.
I want the wedding, the babies, and the forever.
But right now, I feel further away from finding it than ever.