51. Sienna
SIENNA
“What the hell is going on with all these trade rumors? Have you heard anything? And if Calvin gets traded, will you go with him?” Garrett asks the second I answer his call.
He’s been calling me for the last couple of days, ever since the rumors started that Nash is leaving Vancouver and possibly joining the Vipers roster. I haven’t answered any of them, because I knew he was going to want answers. Apparently, my replies to his messages haven’t been good enough.
“I don’t know,” I say, just like I have every time he’s messaged about this subject.
“Oh, come on, Sisi. You must have something you can tell me? How is Calvin feeling about all this? Is he nervous?”
“Garrett,” I sigh, my chest tightening as I wonder how Calvin is dealing with all this.
He confided in me that he’s been terrified of being traded since his injury, that his GM would no longer see him as a part of the team.
But while I might be worried about him, I still can’t get past the fact that he was lying to me.
All this time, he knew that our connection went far beyond what we’d found here. It goes back over fifteen freaking years, and he casually forgot to mention it.
Why?
I know the only way to get that answer is to talk to him, to demand that he explain himself. But despite how much I miss him, I’m not ready to look him in the eyes and listen to his reasons.
“What’s wrong?” Garrett asks.
“I…I don’t know what’s going on with all these trade rumors.” For all I know, Calvin is upstairs, packing up his life, ready for a move across the country. Or worse, out of the country. My chest tightens, and I heave in another breath. “And I don’t know how Calvin is feeling about it.”
“Oh, shit. Did something happen?”
I don’t say anything. I can’t, for fear that I’ll break down all over again.
“Sienna?” Garrett whispers. “Are you okay?”
I suck in a shuddering breath before releasing a very weak, “No.”
“Oh shit. Talk to me. What did that asshole do? Do I need to get on a flight and come beat his ass?”
A laugh erupts from my throat.
“Probably not a good idea.”
“What? He’s got a fucked-up knee. I could take him,” Garrett states, making me laugh even harder.
God, I love my brother.
“No, you don’t need to come and do that.”
“What did he do?”
“Why do you assume it was him? Maybe I screwed up,” I mutter quietly.
“You didn’t, though, did you?”
“No,” I murmur.
“Go on then, spill.”
So I do.
“Holy shit. You can’t be serious.”
“I know it sounds unbelievable.”
“Unbelievable. Fate. Same thing, I guess.”
“Please don’t romanticize this,” I warn.
Despite the fact that my brother is just about as much of a fuckboy as some hockey players I know, he still is a romantic at heart.
He might say that he isn’t interested in it all, but I think, deep down, he’s secretly waiting for a man to sweep him off his feet.
And personally, I cannot wait for that to happen.
“I’m not. I’m just saying, if this was a movie, you’d be all over it.”
He’s not wrong.
“You just need to figure out if you’re going to have a happy ending or not.”
I sigh, sinking lower on my couch. It’s been a really long week.
When we decided to open the salon every day in the run up to the holidays, I thought it was a great idea.
We’d be able to see more clients and hopefully make some headway on the constantly growing waitlist, and I’d earn a little extra money, which I need right now more than ever.
As a family, we’ve put a limit on how much we spend, because it’s too easy to get carried away, but I’m still trying to find my footing after the move, and buying gifts on top of that is pushing me to the limit.
Bea and I went to look at the possible salon spaces I found online, as planned, and while I’m still excited about us expanding, I can’t exactly say that my heart was in it the way it was when I presented my ideas to her a few weeks ago.
I’ve gone from living my life in full color to everything suddenly being gray and bland. I hate it, but right now, I also don’t have the power or energy to drag myself out of it.
Bea, however, has been buzzing with ideas for both locations. She’s had meetings with her accountant and is busy talking to contractors to get quotes for how much everything might cost before making a final decision on how to proceed.
“I want a happy ending,” I confess quietly.
“Then you’re going to need to either talk to him, or walk away and find it elsewhere.”
The thought of leaving Calvin behind for the second time in my life hurts more than I thought possible. And I can’t even think about getting close to someone else. No one else would be as understanding, as patient.
It’s why I don’t understand why he couldn’t be honest with me. It’s not like we rushed into anything and he was ambushed by it. We’ve been taking our time, learning from each other. If he’d have just told me…
“It hurts, Garrett. He lied to me, how can I trust him?”
“Only you can answer that, Sisi. You won’t know that until you talk to him.”
I mutter my agreement, and thankfully, Garrett changes the subject.
“You’re still coming to Mom and Dad’s for the holidays, right?”
“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say, the first buzz of excitement I’ve felt in days flutters in my stomach.
They might no longer live in the house we grew up in, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love spending the holidays there any less. It doesn’t matter how old I get—waking up and knowing there are gifts under the tree and in the stockings we have hanging over the fireplace will never get old.
“Have you got all your gifts?”
“From the smugness in your tone, I’m assuming you have.”
“Yep. And they’re all wrapped.”
“Ugh, you’re such a goody two-shoes,” I tease. “I’ve got Mom’s gift. And I think I know what I’m getting Dad. You’re the problem.”
He scoffs. “I’ve heard that before. I’m easy; I just need a hockey player.”
“As if we’ll fit one of those under the tree.”
“That’s okay, you can just put him in my bed. Preferably naked.”
“You’re a nightmare.”
“That’s why you love me.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
Silence falls between us for a few seconds.
“I hate being so far away when you’re hurting.”
“I’m okay,” I lie.
“I know. I still don’t like it, though.”
“You’re happy out there, aren’t you, Gare?”
“What? Yeah, of course. You don’t need to worry about me,” he says, but there’s something in his tone that has me questioning just how truthful he’s being.
“You’d tell me if something was up, right? Even if I’m going through my own shit?”
There’s an ominous pause. “Yeah, of course.”
I narrow my eyes despite the fact he can’t see me.
“Okay,” I concede. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too. I’m already dying for some of Mom’s mince pies.”
“Same. And her mulled wine.”
“I really need to hit the gym harder.” He laughs. “I’ve barely worked off Thanksgiving.”
“You’re hot and you know it.”
“Maybe I just needed to hear that.”
“You don’t need your ego stroked.”
“Maybe not, but it’s always nice to hear.”
“As if you don’t have men telling you exactly that every week.”
When he doesn’t respond immediately, I sit up a little straighter, curiosity surging through me.
“Garrett, is there something you need to tell me?”
“What? No, don’t be crazy. Work’s just been busy. There hasn’t been much time for pleasure.”
“All work and no play makes Garrett a very boring boy,” I mock.
“You’re telling me,” he says as I try and fail to stifle my yawn. It’s late here, but it’s even later where he is. “You should get to bed.”
“So should you,” I point out.
“Yeah, I will soon. I’ve got a few things I need to finish off.”
“You work too hard.”
He doesn’t respond to that and instead makes me promise to keep in touch, and to let me know when I find the courage to speak to Calvin.
I hang up and slump lower on the couch, exhaustion tugging at my muscles.
I’ve got another week at work, our Christmas night out, and then I’ll get back on a plane and head for my parents’ for a few days.
As I’m trying to convince myself to get up and crawl into bed, my cell buzzes in my hand.
My heart lurches because it already knows whose name is going to light up my screen.
I close my eyes and take a breath before lifting it to look.
Despite receiving at least two messages a day from Calvin, one first thing in the morning, and another last thing at night, I’m yet to reply to a single one of them.
I want to, but I’m terrified of allowing him to draw me back in.
He makes me feel like that twelve-year-old girl again who didn’t have anything to worry about.
Who didn’t know how much love could hurt.
Or maybe that’s exactly how I’m meant to feel with him. Maybe I’m meant to let go and trust that he still is the boy from that summer.
With thoughts spinning wildly through my head, I lift my cell and open the message.
Calvin King of the ice Keller: How was your day?
I guess it’s busy as hell with the holidays coming up.
Darcy put me through the wringer today, and everyone is a little on edge about the rumors circling online.
We haven’t heard anything yet, but I can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen.
If it does, at least you might get a quieter neighbor, huh?
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I hope you’ve had a good day and that I miss you.
I miss you so fucking much, Sienna. Nothing in my life is the same without you in it.
It wasn’t after you left the ranch that summer, and it isn’t now. I’m sorry x
I lower my cell to my lap and swipe the tears that have spilled from my eyes.
“Get a grip,” I tell myself before getting to my feet and walking to my bedroom, ready to call it a night. But I can’t stop myself from opening his message again once I’m settled in bed.
My sheets still smell like him, and I both love and hate that I haven’t found the time to change them yet. His scent is comforting and torturous all at the same time. So are the images in my head of just how good he looked in my bed with my sheets resting low on his hips.
Goddamn it. That boy has been in my head for more than half of my existence on this earth, and I don’t think it’s changing anytime soon.
With darkness surrounding me, I finally do something I’ve been holding back from all week. My thumbs begin tapping at the screen, and I send a very simple, very true message back.