Chapter 33
HAYDEN
Hailee’s radio silence isn’t sitting well with me. I’ve sent her more than a few messages since our exchange the other night, but none of them have been read, let alone responded to.
I keep telling myself that it’s just because she’s busy, that she’ll be on this plane to Boston for our first road exhibition game and we’ll be able to talk then.
But despite trying to convince myself that everything is okay, the dread doesn’t go away.
I get that she might have come to her senses and realized she was wasting her time with me, risking too much, but a little heads-up would have been nice.
Nerves flutter in my stomach as I climb the stairs to the plane, knowing I’m about to see her.
I stop breathing as I step onto the plane and turn to walk down the aisle.
The coaching staff sits at the very front, followed by the medical team and then other front office staff, including Hailee and our social media team and reporters.
I scan the seats as casually as I can as I make my way down, but when I get to where she’d usually be, I don’t find her. Instead, I find Katie, her senior manager.
My heart slams against my ribs as my legs continue to carry me to my own seat.
Why isn’t she here?
Something is wrong. It has to be.
After sliding my carry-on into the overhead compartment, I drop into my seat and pull my cell from my pocket.
I don’t have a message from her, but honestly, I wasn’t expecting one. That doesn’t stop me from sending her another, though.
The sight of my previous messages sitting there unread doesn’t make me feel any better, but I tap out another regardless.
Hayden: Are you okay?
I stare at the screen, waiting for the ticks to change color, but nothing happens.
“Fuck,” I hiss, swiping out of our conversation before anyone can see it.
The rest of the guys file onto the plane, and the second I spot Rett, I keep my eyes on him, silently demanding his attention.
“Hey, you all right, man?”
I want to ask if he knows anything. But this is not the place to get into that conversation; there are too many sets of ears.
“Yeah, I’m good. You?”
“Yeah, buzzing for this game,” he says, having little choice but to keep moving.
A pained sigh leaves me, and I rest my head against the wall as the rest of the team get themselves settled for the flight.
I should be excited. It’s our first road trip of the season. We literally have everything ahead of us, and if last year is anything to go by, it could be an incredible year. But…
Everything feels wrong.
I squeeze my eyes closed as Brody drops into the seat beside me, trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t anything I can do about the situation with Hailee. I can’t force her to talk to me when I’m in LA; I can do even less from the other side of the country.
The flight seems to go on forever. But I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’d say that. While I was struggling to put a smile on my face, the rest of the guys were buzzing.
This time last year, that was me. Sure, I was also fucking terrified, being one of the newest additions to the team. I had no idea what life was like as a legit NHL player. It was something I could only dream of up to that point. But as scary as it was, it was also incredibly exciting.
This year, everything is so vastly different.
Sure, the excitement is still there. It’s NHL hockey—of course I’m excited; this is literally what I’ve spent my life dreaming about. But there are gray clouds everywhere I look, and honestly, I’m fucking sick of them.
It’s raining when we land in Boston. I can’t say I’m surprised. The dark gloom outside just about sums up my life right now.
After a short bus journey, we get our room keys and a short lecture from Coach about being back down for team dinner in an hour, and then we’re sent to get settled.
Brody beats me to our room and has already stolen what I consider the best bed, just like he does every fucking time.
I dump my luggage on the end of my bed and flop onto it. He doesn’t even glance over, which is fine by me.
Last year, I hated rooming with him. I wanted someone on my level. Someone I could bounce off of when I was buzzed, and commiserate with when games didn’t go our way. This year, though, I suspect I’m going to appreciate his silence.
I check my cell, but there’s still nothing.
Needing to do something, I find my conversation with Bea. I’m not sure they’re really friends, but they went dress shopping for the gala together, so that has to mean something, right?
Hayden: Is Hailee okay? She isn’t reading my messages.
Bea: She hasn’t read mine either. I think she’s just busy with work.
Hayden: She didn’t travel with us.
Bea: Maybe something came up.
My thumbs twitch to respond, but I hold back. I really don’t want to put my biggest fear out in the open.
What if I lose my shit again before the game tomorrow and she’s not there?
I close my eyes as Brody walks past my bed, locking himself in the bathroom.
I give myself a minute or two before I reply.
Hayden: If you talk to her, please let me know she’s okay.
Bea: Promise x
Unable to do anything more, I put my cell away and get ready for team dinner.
If I can’t be with Hailee, then the next best thing is being with the guys. Hopefully, they’ll be distracting enough that I don’t spend the whole night checking my cell—or worse, caving and calling her until she has no choice but to answer.
I have a fitful night's sleep, and when my alarm goes off thirty minutes before our call time, my eyes are heavy, and my limbs are sluggish.
“You look like you slept like shit,” Brody points out as I drag my weary ass to the shower in the hope it’ll wake me up.
“Thanks,” I mutter, leaving him to watch game film on his iPad.
“You'd better pull your weight tonight,” he calls a second before I close the door.
“When don’t I?” I snap, irritation building within me.
No matter what’s happening in my personal life, the second I step onto that ice, I put it all aside and focus on my job. There are thousands of guys out there who’d give anything to be in my position. I refuse to take any of it for granted.
The problem right now is that I need to make it to the ice in the first place.
Tonight will be different, I tell myself.
My parents aren’t here. There won’t be an empty seat.
But she’s not watching. You won’t have a pregame or a postgame message.
She isn’t supporting you.
My teeth grind.
She is. She’s watching, she’s supporting. She’s with me. Every single goddamn day. I have to remember that, and it has to be enough, because it’s all I’ve got left.
As the day goes on, the tension within me only grows. Darcy did as much as he could after our morning skate to relieve it, but unfortunately, it isn’t something he’s able to banish. The only person who can fix my issues right now is me.
Well, and maybe a fiery brunette who needs to respond to a message or ten.
I tried to stop myself, but apparently, my self-control vanishes when it comes to Hailee, because I’ve already sent her five messages today, and the need to send more only grows as the puck drop draws closer.
We’re not even at the arena yet, and already I’m starting to lose control.
Brody is gone, off doing whatever pregame shit he always does. Early last year, I tried to ask where he disappeared to, but he just glared at me, so I shut the fuck up. I haven’t asked since, and he’s never willingly offered any information.
I sit with my AirPods in, the High School Musical playlist already halfway through.
I don’t usually start listening until I’m on the way to the arena, but I needed some extra luck tonight.
The peanut butter and jelly sandwich has already been devoured, and now, the only thing I’m craving is my good luck kiss.
It was one time, before one game. But it was the best game I’ve ever played.
That can’t be a coincidence, can it?
Hayden: Call time is in fifteen minutes. Are you gonna be watching?
I watch as the message stacks beneath the other unread ones.
My heart is in my throat, anxiety churning in my stomach.
I might not be able to get the kiss I want, but right now, I’d take a response. I’d even accept seeing those little ticks turn blue, so I know she’s at least reading what I send.
Hayden: I think we’ve got a good chance to take the W tonight. The guys are pumped.
Hayden: If you’re watching, what are you wearing?
I shake my head the second I hit send on that one. The idea of her wearing my jersey might be a bit of a dream, but still, it’s one I’m happy to cling to for as long as I can.
The minutes tick by, but still, there’s nothing.
With five minutes before I need to head out, I put my cell down and finish getting dressed.
I hate the tremble in my hands. I hate everything about the way my clothes feel against my skin, how tight my collar is, and the wonky way I knot my tie.
I stand in front of the mirror, trying to stop a tuft of hair sticking up in a way I don’t want it to, emotion lodged in my throat, my muscles tighter than before Darcy got his hands on me.
I stuff my feet into my shoes, and I’m about to head out in the hope that some of the guys will be down in the foyer early and serve as the distraction I need, when my cell starts ringing.
Please, please be the one person I need.