7. Callum
7
CALLUM
“ B londie, can you come help me with something really quick?” I call out from my bedroom.
“I’m not falling for that, Cal. You’re not going to catch me walking in on you half-naked. I know you just got out of the shower.”
I smile. She knows me well. That is something I’d pull, but not now. I have something else up my sleeve. “I promise I have pants and a shirt on. Just get in here.”
Putting a painting studio in the corner of my living room was the best money I’ve ever spent. Eloise might not be staying in my condo yet, but that easel puts her right where I want her more than not. When I came home from practice pissed as hell, my mind divided between my past and present, I was instantly calm the second I saw her delicate form in front of the windows with a paintbrush in hand, doing something I know brings her joy.
I hear her sigh when she enters the doorway to my room and comes up empty. “I’m in the closet.”
“Cal, I swear. I’ll call off our deal if your—” Her words die when she sees I didn’t trick her. Instead, she finds me standing in the mirror, holding up ties.
“Bow tie or skinny tie?”
She smiles, her eyes slowly raking down my form, drinking me in the way I hoped they would before she comes closer and says, “Neither.” Then, stepping in close, she reaches into the tie drawer I’m standing next to and pulls out a cravat. The personal shopper I hired to buy my suit when I made the team four years ago purchased those. I haven’t ever worn one.
“I don’t know how to tie those. The one time I tried, it looked like a neckerchief, and I looked ridiculous.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing you asked for my help. I happen to know how to tie one.” She pulls out the navy blue cravat and shakes it loose, effectively unfolding it. Her eyes hold mine as her fingers find the top two buttons of my dress shirt. “The key to styling this correctly is tucking it in.” When her hands slide up my collar, and her skin grazes mine as she pulls the material away from my neck to accommodate the cravat, my entire body sizzles. She’s touching me, and my body can’t help but react. My hands find her waist, and I pull her closer. “Cal,” she warns.
“I’m just ensuring you can reach me and get the right angle. I’m the captain. I need to look the part.” I try to play it cool as though my appearance is my only goal, but she knows it’s not. She continues her task and doesn’t ask me to remove my hands, which have my thumbs gently caressing her softness until she tucks my cravat and her fingers catch around something else.
“Is this necklace one of your superstitions? If you take it off, you believe you’ll lose the game?” she asks as her fingers run over the metal of the class ring I wear around my neck.
“Something like that,” I answer as I debate saying more.
“Why do you wear it around your neck and not on your hand?”
“I stopped wearing it on my hand the day the Gladiators clinched a playoff seat in our division.”
“So since you took it off that day, you didn’t put it back on because it meant you might lose?”
“No, I never put it back on because I took it off that day with the intention of giving it to someone else.”
Her eyes slowly pull away from the chain and rise to mine.
My hands come up and wrap around hers. “Can I show you something?”
She nods but gives me no words as she stands still like stone. I know something happened that night. Something she’s not ready to share, and because I know words only go so far, I’m hoping reading the ones written on my heart six years ago will break down one more barrier and bring us closer to where we were always meant to be. Together. I grab the duffle bag I tossed in here before my shower, pull out my playbook, and flip to the entry I remember writing like it was yesterday.
Playbook:
Winning Grey
Many things feel uncertain right now, and I think that’s been weighing on Eloise. She’s my girl. She knows that, or at least I thought she did, but we’re seniors this year, and while we’ve loosely talked about what happens after school, we have yet to talk about what happens to us after graduation. I haven’t brought it up because I don’t know where I’ll be. The only thing I know for sure is that wherever I choose to go, it means I won’t be here. I can’t stay here, and that means I’m leaving her. Fuck. Just the thought of not seeing her every day makes me want to puke. She’s my whole world.
This is why you haven’t said anything, you fucktard. You can’t even get through writing this entry without hurting. But that’s how you know it’s real. She’s not going to say no. It doesn’t matter that the ring only costs a couple hundred dollars. Eloise isn’t like the other girls at school who come from money and won’t accept anything less than a carat more than what their friend’s boyfriend gave his girl. Yes, she pushes your buttons and keeps you on your toes. She tests your limits and even your trust most days, but I think deep down you crave it because hard love is still love.
She keeps you at arm’s length for the same reasons writing this tears you up inside. Love is fucking scary, but so is living without your person. You took it off with a promise in your heart. One that said you want to be hers forever, and I challenge you not to put it back on. Putting it back on means you didn’t suit up, you didn’t play your hardest to win the thing you want the most. Putting it back on means you lost the girl. Don’t lose the girl. Tonight, you win Grey. Tonight, you play for keeps.
The sound of her stuttered breath as her fingers slowly brush over the page tells me she’s read every last word. Ones I planned on giving her the night I lost her. Standing behind her, I unclasp my necklace and hold it out in front of her. “I didn’t put it back on because it meant I lost you. That’s one loss I’d never recover from. Eloise, will you wear my ring and accept the promise I’ve held in my heart since the day I took it off.”
“You love me?”
“Are you really asking me that?”
She closes the book and slowly turns around, her glassy eyes locking on mine. “I mean, you love me, not because I’m the mother of your child but because you loved me then.”
“God, yes.” I pull her into my chest, unable to look a second longer at the doubt that lingered, doubt that I fostered with my own childish behavior. I kiss the top of her head. “Blondie, we have so much to talk about. This is only week one, but, Eloise, it’s week one of forever for me. I have to leave tonight, but when I get back, it’s time. Please tell me you agree. Tell me you’re just as tired of fighting this as I am. We’re only hurting each other. I’m tired of hurting and seeing the look in your eyes seconds ago, the one that believed for one second she wasn’t my everything. It almost brought me to my knees.”
I feel her nod in agreement before she says, “Okay.”
I pull back enough to separate a few inches to cup her face and look into her eyes. “Will you wear my ring around your neck knowing what it means?”
I don’t say the words. She just read them; she’s aware I feel them, and I don’t want to push her away by laying too much at her feet at once. That’s the thing with Eloise. She’s hard to love. She’ll run before she stays because running means she gets to keep her secrets and protect what she believes is an unbroken heart. But I know better. It broke a long time ago. All this time, she’s only been trying to put it back together.
“Under one condition.”
I raise a brow. “I’m listening.”
“I want the truth.”
“Always. I’ve never lied to you.”
“You said you never brought women here.”
“I didn’t lie about that.”
“Then how do you explain that corner?”
I don’t need to look over my shoulder; I’m already aware of what she spotted. It was the other surprise I had for her to find, but we never got to it after she saw the painting studio I set up in my living room. “I had those items ordered for you. It was one of the surprises I had for you to find.”
“Why would you buy me clothes?”
I roll my lips to hold back my smile, but I know the color in my cheeks is probably giving me away. “I expected you to stay here with me, and I knew you’d be here for a few events I have to attend, and I hoped you’d go with me, so I bought you some dresses and…” I cough as I spin her around and clasp my ring around her neck. “Some of the other things were for sleeping.”
“You bought me lingerie.”
“No…”
She spins back around once it’s fastened, her hands on her hips.
“My personal shopper did. I gave her your size and told her you’d be staying with me and I wanted to make sure you had everything you’d need.”
“How do you know my size?”
“I peeked in your closet when I was in town for Christmas.”
Her eyes narrow on mine as she contemplates my words, deciding if they’re true before walking over to the corner and running her fingers over a few of the items. “Well, your shopper has good taste,” she says as she flips over one of the tags.
“I have one more request.” She turns around and props her elbow on her wrist before mindlessly running my ring along its chain, a move that has me seconds away from quitting the team just so I don’t have to leave this closet. “Drive me to the airport.”
“ S o you’re comfortable driving this thing home?” I ask as I pull my suitcase out of my truck bed.
“Don’t you think that should have been a question you asked me before we pulled out of the parking garage and got on the road?”
I slam the gate. “Maybe, or maybe I’m still trying to see if you’d rather hop on a plane than drive home. I think I could fit you in my suitcase.”
She rolls her eyes at my antics and holds out her hand. “Keys.”
I’m just reaching into my coat pocket to hand them over when my phone chimes with a text. Pulling it out with my keys, I see it’s from the coach.
Beck: Pre-departure check didn’t pass. The flight has been delayed three hours.
“My flight just got delayed three hours.”
She crosses her arms, pulling her coat tighter. “Well, it doesn’t make sense to go back home. It’s a forty-five-minute drive.”
I run my hand through my hair. “I know. Will you come inside and wait with me? There’s a bar that serves food.”
“Is that what you want? It’s a private airport. It won’t just be us. Your teammates will be in there, too.”
“You’re right…” I rub my jaw and drop her gaze. “I wouldn’t want you meeting the guys.”
She punches my arm. “Hey!”
I grab her hand and pull her into me. “I’m joking. You’re the one suggesting I wouldn’t want to show you off.”
“That’s not what I was getting at.” She tips her head in the direction we came from. “I just thought that place we passed a mile back might be more private.”
“Are you saying you want me all to yourself, blondie?”
She smiles and swats my chest. “Forget it.” She tries to push away.
“Not a chance. My girl just admitted to wanting to get me alone. It’s happening. Get in the truck.” I release her and smack her ass without thought. I’m an athlete. I slap someone’s ass every practice, but she’s not just anyone. She’s not one of the guys. Her pretty red lips part with a gasp as her eyes connect with mine, but a scolding never comes. Instead, she heads toward the cab, and I toss my suitcase back in the truck bed. She liked it. Fucking hell.
A s I open the door for her to hop out of the truck outside the bar, I hold out my hand to help her down. My truck is lifted, and this parking lot wasn’t plowed well, which means black ice is a real possibility. She takes it, and once she’s firmly planted on two feet, I don’t let go. I’m not going to see her for two days, so you better believe I want all the touches she’ll allow in the next three hours. As soon as we walk through the doors, I spot them. Roe, Moon, and Austin are at a booth right beside the bar. I sigh heavily, knowing there’s no way I’ll get away with sitting in this bar for three hours without them noticing I’m here.
“What’s wrong?” she questions when she hears my discontentment.
I tip my chin toward the booth. “Those guys are on my?—”
“Balfour! Get your ass over here,” Roe calls from across the bar.
“So much for being alone. I’m sorry. We can leave.”
“No, it’s fine. Besides, it’s not like I don’t want to meet your teammates. This is good. A soft launch, if you will.”
“Soft launch?”
“Yeah, introducing ourselves to people.”
“Blondie, there’s nothing soft about this. I go hard or not at all. You’re mine, especially in front of them. If that’s a problem, we can walk out the door right now.”
Her eyes widen. “Apparently, I’m choosing all the wrong words tonight. That didn’t come out right. What I was trying to say was that it’s a smaller, intimate setting. I’m not being thrown to the wolves like I would have been had we walked into the airport bar and I met the majority of your teammates all at once.”
“Ahh, I see.” I squeeze her hand gently as the annoyance I felt seconds ago dissipates.
“Go ahead, I’ll meet you over there. I’m going to use the restroom first.”
I watch her disappear toward the right of the bar before heading left to meet up with the guys.
“Balfour, is that her?” Roe asks as soon as I’m within earshot.
I stand at the corner booth. “What do you think?”
“I think if she’s not, I call seconds,” Moon quips.
“I swear to fuck. I’ll break every bone in your face if you even try.”
He throws his hands up in defense. “You know I’m just messing around.”
“I don’t joke, not when it comes to her.”
“And what about Blair? Is she off-limits too?” Austin asks before drinking from his glass. He never quits. If there’s a shot to be taken, he’ll take it every time, but I don’t want her to come up tonight while Eloise is here. I’m not trying to hide her from Eloise, but bringing up the fact that she’s the team’s new publicist right before I’m about to leave town for two days isn’t the right time.
“There’s nothing between me and Blair Wyndham. Never has been. She’s free game?—”
“So that’s why you stormed out of practice today because she means nothing to you?” Austin questions.
“Come on, Austin,” Roe says, loosening the red tie around his neck. “Can’t you give being a douche a rest for one night?”
I look over my shoulder, ensuring I don’t see Eloise before saying, “You want to come after me, Austin? Name a time, but unless that time is here and now, I don’t want that name coming out of your mouth tonight.” I look around the table. “That goes for everyone.”
“Nothing between you, my ass,” Austin mocks before taking a drink of his vodka, his coal-dark eyes never leaving mine.
“You want Blair? I’ll help you land her.”
He finishes the rest of his drink and then slides out of the booth. “Nah, there’s no fun to be had in taking things you don’t care about.”
I step into his space until I’m close enough that the tip of my Oxford nudges his. “Those sound like fighting words, Austin. You really want to go to war with me?”
Austin’s had it out for me since he joined the team last year. I’m still trying to figure out why. Initially, I assumed it was his way of trying to break into the group and find his identity on a new team. We only traded two guys. The rest of us have played together for the past two seasons now. Part of me thought he was feeling some type of way about being the new guy on the team in a year where we’re not holding a top-four seat. It’s easy to feel like the guy ruining the team’s mojo when we’re not playing at peak performance, but I no longer think that’s it.
He turns his smug look to Moon and Roe, and I clench my fist. I’m waiting for him to give me a reason to wipe it off his face. “Not tonight.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you guys on the plane,” he says before turning on his heel and walking out. Fucker.
“I seriously don’t know why you guys hang out with him outside of practice.”
Moon sets down his glass. “He’s not a dick to us. He saves that for you.”
“Why—” My words are stolen when a hand slides across my lower back.
“Who’s a dick?” Eloise questions.
“Don’t worry about it. Just typical clashing of personalities, is all,” Roe answers for me.
“Yeah, forget him. We’d rather get to know the girl who’s had our boy by the balls all these years. Tell us, what’s it like having all that power?” Moon asks, his tone playful.
I roll my eyes and slip my arm over her shoulder, only to discover it’s bare. When I turn to get a look at her, she’s wearing a white lacy tank that looks like lingerie and not the sweater she had on when we entered the bar. What the hell?
“I’m Eloise.” She extends her hand with a big smile.
Moon stands and takes it and places a kiss on top, a move I don’t love, but I accept because I know it’s customary where he’s from, and I’ve seen him do it on multiple occasions. “You have very soft hands, Eloise. My name is Szymon, but you can call me Moon.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks heat, and I pull her arm back.
“That’s enough. Eloise, this is Roe.”
Roe doesn’t touch her. Instead, he pats the seat beside him. “Slide in. We’re ready to hear all the embarrassing shit about Balfour from high school.”
Eloise moves to do just that, and I say, “Ah ah,” and pull her back. “I’ll slide in. You can have the outside.”
She shakes her head but acquiesces without remark all the same. The second we’re seated, the bartender is at the table. “What can I get the two of you to drink?”
“I’ll have a Bloody Mary, please,” Lou orders.
“I’ll take whatever ale you have on tap,” I add as I drape my arm over Eloise’s shoulder.
“Can I get the two of you another round?” the waiter asks the guys, and I drown out their answers.
Leaning in, I whisper in Eloise’s ear, “What happened to your sweater?”
Instinctively, she turns to undoubtedly yell but doesn’t account for how close that puts our faces. Her pretty mouth is mere inches away from mine, and I want a taste of it so damn bad, and by the way her chest is rising and falling, it’s clear the same thoughts aren’t far from her mind either.
“Your place is drafty. I wore the cardigan to keep warm, but it wasn’t my outfit. When I went to the restroom, I slipped it off. I thought this was more fitting than my chunky knit sweater when sitting in a booth full of men wearing suits. Do you not like it?”
“I think we both know I like it. That’s the problem. The amount of skin you’re showing should be for my eyes only.” I run my forefinger under the thin strap of material covering her shoulder. Her skin pebbles under my touch, and my cock takes note. Her body still responds to my touch the way it always did.
Our shared breaths mingle as her eyes drop to my mouth and her tongue dips out to moisten her lips. I’m seconds away from getting what I’ve been dying for, but she clears her throat.
“Um, have you forgotten we’re not alone?”
“Say the word, and I can make them disappear.” I lean in enough so our mouths are a hairsbreadth apart. I won’t close the distance. Only she can do that.
“Cal,” she draws out as her hand pushes into my chest. “Besides”—she turns her focus to the guys—“I’m here for the juicy gossip. They want details, but so do I. A story for a story.”
The waiter returns with our drinks, and I suddenly regret not ordering something stronger.
Two hours have felt like one minute as I’ve sat with my girl tucked into my side, sitting around a table with two of my best friends. Living this moment with her feels surreal. Eloise laughs at another one of Moon’s outrageous stories. When I first met him, I thought half of what he said was for the shock factor. There’s no way someone could have that many off-the-wall stories, but then I met his dad. Back home, his family owns a pub, and growing up, Moon spent many nights behind the bar while his parents worked. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How did you get the nickname Moon?”
He runs his hand over his barely existent short blond hair. “You don’t think it’s because of my hair?”
“Hair changes. I doubt people call you Moon because you’re going through your Eminem circa 2000 era,” she teases.
Roe laughs so hard that beer comes from his nose while Moon’s mouth drops open. “Who’s Eminem?”
“Never mind, just tell the story,” I cut in and hold Eloise closer, soaking in the last five minutes we have left at the bar before I have to hop on a plane.
“It’s my least entertaining story, really. When my sister was learning to say my name, she would always say Szym-o-on, drawing out the last few syllables.” He shrugs. “Somewhere along the line, it got shortened to Moon, and it stuck.”
“You guys are close then?” Eloise asks.
“Yeah, when we’re on the same continent, she’s not too bad.”
“How about you, Roe, any siblings?” she queries.
“Nope, I’m an only child, just like your boy.” He punches my shoulder. “But I have a lot of cousins who come to the games, and my pops is usually in the box for every home game. We keep telling Balfour he needs somebody to watch him play. Then maybe he’ll actually hit the puck.”
“I don’t need an audience in the stands. I’ve been playing solo for years.”
Eloise stiffens in my hold, and for a second, I think it’s because she believes I’m dishing her a backhanded insult, but then she asks, “Lucas doesn’t attend your games?”
I furrow my brow. “Why would?—”
All our phones unanimously buzz on the hardwood table. Moon, Roe, and I pick them up. With Eloise by my side, it felt like I blinked, and the night was over. No amount of time spent with her will ever be enough. I already know what the message will read. Time is up.
Beck: The plane is ready. Leaving in twenty minutes.
“Time to go,” Roe says. “You don’t mind if we catch a ride back with the two of you to the airport, do you?”
“No, I don’t mind,” Eloise confirms. “I stopped drinking an hour ago. Let’s go.”
Everyone gets up except for me. I’m not ready to leave. Even though I wanted her alone, tonight was nice. We had drinks with my friends and told stories. I got to hold her in my arms, and we felt like us for a few short hours. “Come on. The faster we get out of here, the quicker you can come home,” she says, extending her hand for me to take.
“Leave it to you to make staying and going equally hard,” I jest as I take her hand and follow her out of the bar.
“I didn’t know staying was an option,” she says as we make our way to the truck.
“It is if that’s what you want. I’d walk away from it all if you asked it of me.” The guys hop in the back of the cab, and I pause with my hand on the driver’s side door to open it for her. “Do you want me to stay?”
“I don’t want you to leave, but I won’t ask you to stay at the cost of giving up your career and something you love doing.”
“What if I don’t like hockey?”
My mother was one of the reasons I started playing. When I was seven, I found a picture tucked away in a folder in my dad’s office. I always took the opportunity to snoop around when it wasn’t locked simply because it was off-limits. That’s when I came across a newspaper clipping of my mother with her father. It was taken of them standing beside the Royals. The caption beneath the picture read,
Royals owner Harold Morgan with daughter Virginia Morgan home opener.
Once I found that picture and saw the smile on my mother’s face, I knew I wanted to play hockey. If she and my grandfather loved it, so would I. Lo and behold, when I went to my father, who rarely let me do anything, and asked if I could start playing, he was all in. Looking back, I think he allowed me to play because he knew how much playing that sport meant I wouldn’t be around. It was a distraction for me as much as it was for him. If I was out of the house, I wasn’t in it, serving as a reminder of the wife he lost.
“I’d say that sounds like a conversation for when we have more time.” Her hands find the lapels on my suit jacket. “Are you serious right now? Is everything okay?”
“The reasons I started playing no longer hold the same weight…” I shake my head. “Never mind. Like you said, it’s a conversation for another day, and you didn’t put your sweater on.” I take off my jacket.
“Cal, I don’t need that. I’ll turn the heat on.”
“You’re not getting in the truck in front of my teammates like that.”
Her eyes narrow on mine, and a scowl forms until she looks down once I have the jacket around her shoulders and notices her very hard, very erect nipples. I pull the lapels so that they’re covered. “Those are for my eyes only.” She rolls her lips, and I open the door. “Get in before I really do quit the team.”