Chapter 11
Ronan
“I’m sorry, I must’ve heard you wrong,” Fitz makes a show of pretending to clean his ears out with his pinky. “Let’s try that again. I said do you wanna come with me to Coach Randall’s poker game tonight? And-And just to be clear, Coach Randall King. K-I-N-G.”
“No.”
“Why the hell not? You used to bitch about never coming and now you don’t wanna?” His arms are splayed wide, not letting me pass him in the tunnel.
“Well, I went last time.” I shrug.
“And?”
“And… it was kind of a let down.” I say brushing past him in the direction of the locker room.
The truth was, I’d heard they gambled big pools of money—Thousands—and donated the winnings to the winner’s choice of charity.
I wanted that for Sandy’s Scholarships. My foundation is my baby.
I’m always trying to pull in more to give to people who wanna make something of themselves.
I’m not saying I made it to the NHL by accident, but it wasn’t my lifelong dream. It’s just a job. Helping others crawl their way out of a life they hate or just into one they love… that was my real passion. Hockey was just the platform.
The locker room is chaotic when I push the door open. Music is blaring, my teammates are dancing like half naked fools.
Normally, I’d be front and center. Today, I’m slow to get all my gear off in my normal order.
I duck out of the locker room after showering and changing, ignoring the concerned glances from my
teammates.
I skip the post skate workout.
I don’t stay late, waiting in the hall with tea for Emalyn.
I drove straight to my apartment.
“Hey, Steve.” I mumble to the doorman as I pocket my keys.
“Hey, Ronan. How goes it?” He asks kindly. I glance up to see the gentle smile he always wears.
“Fine. How are the grandkids?”
“Oh, good. Vivianne’s going to Baylor in the fall. She just found out.” Steve says proudly, standing taller.
“That’s great. I’ll have to send my congratulations.” I pat his shoulder before making my way inside. I use my card for the private elevator. When I unlock the door, the fresh scent hits my nose. I guess the cleaners were on schedule today. I fall face first into my neatly made bed.
I blow out a breath before digging my phone from my pocket. I call the number I always do when I need a sounding board.
“Ronan.” Sandy’s frail but warm voice comes through the line.”How are you, sweet boy?”
Tears escape without permission. Everything I've been holding back bursts from my mouth like a dam breaking. I tell her about Emalyn and her boyfriend. Playoffs and the pressure that’s getting to me. The PR relationship that Ford has been pushing.
“Well, you love Emalyn. That’s never been a question for you.” Sandy says softly. “I used to worry about how sure you were. That it would lead to heartbreak but you believed in the love you had for her. Ronan, I believed in you. I still do, even when you feel lost.”
“I guess I just… It hurts so bad. Watching her be with other people, watching her fall in love with someone else… I don’t know how much more I can take.” My voice cracks on the last word and I hate
that it does. I hate how weak it makes me feel.
“How can she do that when I feel sick even kissing someone else?”
“Oh, Ronan. Have you told her how you felt? Maybe a good conversation will bring some clarity.” Sandy says before dissolving into a coughing fit.
I wait patiently until she’s done.
“Isn’t it unfair of me to blow up our lives by dropping it on her now? Especially if she’s happy with Kade.” It’s petty I know. I can’t physically say his name without cringing. “I mean, I already tell her nearly every day.”
“Clarity isn’t about blowing up your life, it’s about stopping the slow erosion of your soul. If you’re stuck between I can’t do this forever and I don't want to ruin everything, that’s not indecision. It's a signal.”
I turn her words over in my mind. I can’t keep hurting like this. It’s tearing me apart.
Maybe loving her means letting her go.
It’s time to.
My hand drags down my face, exhaustion setting in. It all feels heavier.
Not just practice. Not just Emalyn.
The collection of moments that have somehow become my life.
My chest aches as I send off a text to my agent.
Two words.
Ronan:
I’m in.
I pocket my phone, ignoring the instant buzzing.
I don’t want to answer Ford.
Or Dante.
Or anyone else for that matter.
I leave my phone on the bed as I tug a hoodie over my head and slide my feet into some slippers.
My apartment is quiet without Ryan and his needy cat.
Now that he’s not a rookie anymore, he’s gotten his own place.
I’m absolutely going to throw the biggest party ever in his house.
At nineteen, he’s done an awesome job transitioning directly into the NHL.
Most of us had to work our way up over the years.
Even Fitz, and he had a direct link to Coach.
Needless to say, I’m proud of Ryan. I want him to be celebrated.
I stare at the couch and the gaming system that’s been untouched for a few days and the sad cat tree in the corner. I can’t remember what I used to do all the time before I had a roommate.
Right. I would normally just do whatever Emalyn was doing. Or jump in the middle of the circus that is Alli’s family now. I guess I would go out too. That’s not really an option during the playoffs though.
I pull my phone out and decline Ford's call, instead shooting a text off to the group chat.
Frozen Five
Ronan:
Fuck you for moving out, Rookie!
Fitz:
Aw, is someone lonely? I’ll come hang!
*You removed Fitz from the chat*
Tate:
Kind of related… the place is nice! Just got my sister an apartment there.
Ryan:
Yea… the one right next to mine. She has friends over all the time. It’s so loud.
Tate:
Ew, TMI. Quit listening to my baby sister.
Tate:
Creep.
Ryan:
They’re lady friends!
Tate:
I don’t care who she likes, just quit listening
*Ripley added Fitz to the chat*
Ronan:
Traitor
Ripley:
Coach wants us there early before the game. We have the youth league meet and greet from the Sandy's Donuts ticket giveaway .
Ripley:
Be good role models and be on time!
I let out a sigh and pocket my phone.
Silence settles over the apartment again. I swipe my keys off the counter and grab the assembled cat tree by one of its posts.
I know there’s an animal shelter a few streets over. I’m sure they could use an extra one of these. Definitely not going for the kitty cuddles.
I pull my hat low and my hoodie up. I’ve had quite a few endorsements and sponsorships— enough to be recognizable.
I usually love engaging with the fans, but tonight I don’t think they’d get the Ronan Grady that’s on TV.
I'm already two streets over when I realize I left the house in my bunny slippers. Shit. Now they’re gonna be all dirty.
No way am I wearing any shoes that have touched the streets of New York into my apartment. They’ll have to be burned.
Frozen Five
Ronan:
I’m having a funeral after the game.
You’re all invited.
Tate:
Yea, this season has been brutal. It’s killing me too.
Ronan:
No, it’s not for me
Fitz:
Don’t type that shit. Just give us a time and place. We’ll be there.
Ripley:
No I won’t. I have a daughter.
Ronan:
*Image attachment*
Tate:
Ew. RIP bunny slippers
Ryan:
They lived a good life. Mine are still going strong.
Ryan:
*image attachment*
Ryan sends a picture of his bunny slippers propped on the coffee table. His mistake was getting the TV in the frame, the screen paused on a reality dating show. The guys jump all over it, sending in text after text teasing him.
Feeling a little lighter, I push open the door to the shelter.
“Hey, Paige.” I say, waving to the volunteer. She also owns the pilates studio I frequent with Emalyn and Alli.
“Hi, Ronan! How are you today?” She grins from behind the desk. Rubbing her hands together she adds, “I see you brought a donation.”
“Yep. Ryan moved out. He already has one in nearly every room at his new place.” I shrug.
“I have a big family. I have seven brothers and sisters. When I moved here from Scotland, I missed them dearly.” She gives me a knowing smile and lifts one shoulder, “It was so quiet.”
“So what did you do?”
“Oh, nothing. My parents moved here. My older brother got into MIT and my mother wanted to have all her kids in the same country.” She says before waving her hand, “Anyways. Were you just dropping off or did you want kitty cuddles today?”
“Cuddles.” I nod eagerly. Her laugh echoes in the hall as she leads the way. As we pass by the dog kennels, I hear a high pitched whine that stops me in my tracks.
The sweet little dappled dachshund from the Bruisers Calendar photoshoot last year paws at the door.
Poppy.