Chapter Two Mason
“ O kay, who forgot to take the trash out before we left?” I wince as we walk into the team house, the immediate stench of garbage invading my nose. “Hmm, Ross ?”
We might refer to this place as the team house but only three of us live here: Ross, Chet, and me.
Ross my teammate and one of my best friends, walks in behind me and drops his duffel bag on the ground next to mine. “Shit. That’s my bad, guys.”
“Someone, light a candle!” Brock shouts from the front door.
We just got back from a weekend away, camping in Ross’s family’s camper at their fancy private spot in a neighboring town. It was so nice that I don’t even know if camping is the right world to describe it. It was a lot of fun and a lot of dumb decisions. But honestly, that’s the best combination.
Walking through our living room to the kitchen, I call out to the rest of the house, “Already on it.”
I grab a new candle from my stash beneath the sink. We’re going to need to burn this bad boy for a while.
Ross walks into the kitchen, heading straight to the garbage can, and grabs the bag, tying it off.
Brock and I burst out laughing as he rushes past us. Holding it with his arm stretched straight out, he runs outside, squealing.
“I might go for a run in a bit if you want to join,” I tell Brock and Ross as he walks back in.
Ross’s face distorts. “God, no. We’re going to be on the ice and in the gym enough. I’m enjoying my time off.”
He hops over the back of the couch and plops down on the seat. Turning the TV on, he does what Ross does best—gets lost in his own world.
“Brock?” I turn to him, and he sighs.
He holds his hands up in defeat. “Look, I know that I probably should. But …”
“You’ll regret that in about a week—you know that, right?” I laugh as he guiltily runs around the couch and drops down next to Ross.
With his back to me, he nods. “ Future me will totally scold this me about it.”
“So will Coach.” I chuckle.
He laughs and shakes his head, flipping me off at the same time my phone chimes.
I pull my phone out from my sweats pocket.
Maeve: Want to grab lunch or something sometime this week?
Having my sister on campus comes with a lot of mixed feelings.
I love her to pieces, so I’m excited that she’ll be close.
But that also means that I’m going to have to threaten every man on this campus to stay far away from her.
But that is just the beginning of the problems because she didn’t come alone.
She’s brought her sassy, unbelievably beautiful, red-haired, blue-eyed best friend, Daphne Summers.
The same best friend I used to tease under the dinner table and secretly kiss and who I became utterly obsessed with over the years we grew up together. And then I fucked it all up like the pathetic coward I was.
The hold she had on my heart terrified me, and when I graduated high school two years before her and moved to the university, I was scared that my connection with her would cost me everything she and I had worked so hard for.
I didn’t want her putting her skating aside, chasing after our love, and I knew if I stayed another day with her, I would be willing to throw away my hockey career just to stay at her side.
Yeah, it might have been messed up that I made the decision for the both of us, but it’s way too late to take that back now. Even if I wanted to.
I’ve forced myself not to think of what happened—of her —during our time apart. I’ve failed every single day. But I haven’t let that stop me from telling myself that I moved on. I’m a professional at gaslighting myself when it comes to her.
Even though I’ve tried to actually move on from her, I can’t so much as flirt with another girl without feeling a knife slicing its way through my chest.
Every time I’ve tried to flirt or kiss another girl, I can never go through with it. It’s like there’s a mental block in my mind that is physically preventing me from being with anyone else. Like my mind is undyingly loyal to her and not to me .
It’s kind of annoying how much of my life she’s controlled over the last few years. I’ve even checked on her through Maeve—who hates me for hurting Daphne, but still loves me as a brother—and from what she said, Daphne’s been good … for the most part.
I created the gigantic monstrosity of an elephant that appears whenever we’re near each other, and I’m not quite sure how to get rid of it after all the time that’s passed.
Sure, I could probably talk to her. But it’s been almost four years since I left for college, and at this point, it feels ruder to say something than not.
I still don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when I see her again. I’ve known that she and my sister were transferring here for months, but knowing that Daphne’s in the same town as me feels surreal.
It’s been, like, two years since I saw her at their graduation. But I can picture her as clear as day in my mind as if it were yesterday. Even when I desperately wish I could forget about her, I can’t help but think that’s never truly going to happen.
That damn girl nestled into my heart when we were kids, and knowing her stubborn ass, she’s never going to leave completely. That, however, doesn’t change the fact that I fucked up any real chance with her at the end of my senior year.
Avoiding her is pointless because she’s living with my sister. I’m going to see her more than I’m ready for … and I don’t know how to feel about that yet.
Is her hair longer? Is the fire inside of her still burning bright? What’s new? Is her favorite movie still Ice Princess ?
My mind spirals through questions effortlessly, like my brain’s main function is to think of her. It’s like I spilled a glass of memories and they’re flooding my senses. God, she makes me feel so … out of control.
Would she still feel the same in my hands? What about her lips when they melt into mine?
Stop. Shit. This is not supposed to happen.
Forcing myself back to the task at hand, I quickly shoot a text back to Maeve.
Me: Yeah, I’m down. LMK when you’re free. Get settled in okay?
She answers right away.
Maeve: Pretty much every day until classes start. And, yeah, almost.
Me: Is it just going to be us? Or is your roommate joining us?
Maeve: Don’t be a smart-ass. You know her name and how she feels about you, and I’m not subjecting her to lunch with you, dickhead.
Me: Oh, yeah, it’d be torture, I’m sure.
Maeve: You get no say since you’re the one who ruined everything to begin with. Honestly, you’re lucky I still identify as your sister.
Me: You don’t have a choice.
Maeve: I most certainly do, you twat.
Me: Jeez, chill.
Me: She still hates me that much, huh?
Maeve: Just don’t try to stir the pot, okay? I know you.
Me: I am always on my best behavior.
Maeve: Just like you were when you acted like the world’s biggest ass and broke her heart. Look here, Mason. It took a lot to get her here, so don’t go scaring her off.
Me: She’s too stubborn for that. She would stay here just to spite me.
Maeve: Well, you know what they say about a scorned woman.
Me: They’re fiery and hot?
Maeve: Eww. Please stop.
Me: Let me know when you want lunch. I can make you something here. Got a few new recipes under my belt since the last time I cooked for you.
Maeve: Send me menu options, and I’ll place my order.
I heart her message and shove my phone back in my pocket. I guess I have to put together a menu for the goddamn princess to pick from. She should just feel lucky that I’m cooking for her at all. I don’t do that for just anyone.
Well … aside from my team every Sunday for family dinner at our place. It’s a tradition we started my freshman year, mostly so I can force a bunch of test subjects to try my food and recipes.
If there’s a place where I feel most comfortable in the world, aside from an ice rink, it’s in the kitchen.
Which reminds me that I need to run to the store to get some stuff for tomorrow’s Sunday night dinner. I’m making burgers, pasta salad, and lava cake cookies for dessert.
Sundays are the only day I usually take off from skating. My one day a week to be everything I want except for a goalie.
I love hockey; it’s my life, and it will be for however long I’m lucky enough to play. But sometimes, it’s nice to do something else, even just for a day.
Checking the fridge, I make a mental note about what’s missing and grab my keys to run to the store.
The sun is setting as I step outside of our house, waves of orange and gold on the horizon, reminding me of the blue-eyed girl that I’ve tried to fully push out of my mind and the nickname that I gave her years ago.
God, that girl … she’s ruined me in more ways than I want to admit.
Maybe I should go on that run sooner than later to let off some steam.