Chapter 25 Griffin
Griffin
Two Hours Ago
“No more issues,” I vow to Coach.
“Everything’s good,” Dominic echoes.
We’re both lying through our teeth. Things are not good between us.
They might never be again. But we can’t let that ruin our careers.
Sure, we’ve built our careers on a bond of brotherhood, but we’ve both been in hockey long enough to have experience playing with teammates we hate.
It’s almost mandatory, especially when you’re a pro.
Still, even considering that idea makes my gut churn.
We’ve already explained our sudden and unprecedented mid-game departure as a family emergency, taking care to keep Penny’s name out of it as much as possible so it doesn’t affect her status with the Hawkettes.
She’ll have to take her lumps for leaving, too, but we’re not adding fuel to that fire, because Coach would immediately go to the Hawkettes coach to discuss why her cheerleaders are ruining games for the team.
Because without Dom and me, we lost that game against the Torches. Thankfully, our playoff seed is locked in at this point, but the win gave the Torches some bragging rights I wish they didn’t have and created some doubt moving forward into the playoffs.
“We need you two. Whatever’s going on, it stays off the ice. Or you’ll both be off the ice.” Coach is no idiot, seeing right through our lies. I’m amazed that he hasn’t decided to put us on separate rotations, keeping us away from each other at least temporarily.
“Heard.”
“Yes, Coach.”
Dismissed from his office, Dominic and I walk through the locker room and out to the parking lot. I can feel his anger, sense his betrayal, both surrounding him like a heavy blanket. Trying to head his explosion off, I admit, “I went to see Conniver. Told him everything.”
He whirls, his eyes wide, to shout, “You what?”
“You told me to fix it, so I did.” I lock eyes with him. “I fucked up, but I want to be better for her. I want to be worthy of her.”
We both know I’m not, and may never be.
Dominic lifts his eyes to the sky and sighs heavily. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we told each other everything.”
I don’t shy away from the question. He needs to understand this, so I’m going to let him judge me all he wants.
“I don’t know what to say, man. I knew the first time I saw her, but you were my only friend, and staying away from her was the one thing you asked of me, so of course I was going to do it.
But I didn’t know how to act, so I acted .
. . like you.” I shrug, seeing that it was the wrong choice to make, but not sure what I would’ve done things differently.
I didn’t have a lot of choices back then, and I sure hadn’t seen how good life could be yet.
“Love felt like one more thing other people deserved and got easily, that I would never have. I was . . . bitter?”
Labeling an emotion beyond happy, sad, or mad is a big step for me, but bitterness feels accurate for what I’d felt then. Hell, I’ve felt it for years, every time I saw teammates with girlfriends and wives, or even with casual hookups, because at least they got to be with the person they wanted.
But not me. Not Griffin Mahoney.
Dom stares at me, his eyes hard and his jaw set. “You’re not just fucking around with her?” he demands, the question accusatory.
I tilt my head, glaring at him, and he glares right back, waiting for an answer expectantly. “Well, I do want to fuck her.”
His fist balls, and his jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscles bulge at the corners where I never can shave right on the first pass. “I’m gonna kick your ass again.”
“Fair warning,” I tell him, my own fist balling, “this time I’ll fight back. The passive shit is over.”
That brings him up short, and I can almost see him replaying the fight on the ice and the one at Penny’s. “You didn’t fight back,” he echoes, stunned. “Not until she accidentally fell while trying to ride me like a bucking bronco. Why not?”
I shrug. “It needed to happen. I deserved it.”
“Holy shit, man. You are such an asshole.” He huffs, shaking his head like he didn’t already know that. Like he hasn’t always known that. “You’ve actually been pining away for her all these years? Like some lovesick puppy?” A hint of a smile teases at his lips.
He’s laughing at me. Normally, I’d tell him to fuck off, but he has a point.
“Woof, woof,” I deadpan, sounding as pathetic as I am.
But he deserves an answer, a real one. “Seriously, I do want to fuck her—” I admit playfully, and once Dominic’s brows lift the way I knew they would, I add, “And love her, take care of her, see her succeed. I want to have babies with her and grow old with her. I want a life with her.” I blink dumbfoundedly, shocked at my own rambling.
Dominic seems just as surprised. “I never listed it out like that, but yeah, I want everything with her. I want what your folks have. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. ”
He nods slowly, and I watch as he swallows hard. “Okay. I hope you haven’t screwed things up too badly, then.” He shows me his crossed fingers and twists his lips like he totally thinks I have.
It takes a second to register what he’s said. It’s his version of acceptance. “That’s it?” I ask, throwing my hands wide. “Yesterday you’re beating the shit out of me, and now you’re just all ‘good luck with that’?”
He grins evilly. “Hey, if you want to take that on, she’s your problem now.
” He stretches his arms wide like he’s flying free for the first time in his life.
“Wow, that feels good. If she blows something up, that’s you.
If she breaks a leg, that’s you too. If she ends up with a stolen ring from a Mob boss”—he leans my way and gleefully informs me—“you.”
He has a point. Penny might be the death of me, literally, but she’s the only woman I’d plead with a Mob boss for. Hell, she’s the only woman I’d do lots of things for.
“I told her I’d be back after my meeting with Coach. You coming with?” Dom asks.
And like that, we’re okay. Or at least some version of it. Still, I say, “I’m sorry, Dom. I didn’t mean to blindside you with it, especially not mid-game.” I push my jaw left and right, rubbing it to show that it’s still sore from his punches.
But that’s not what he questions. Instead, he looks at my nose and the raccoon eyes I’m sporting right now. “Your nose okay?”
I inhale, showing him it works, which is all that matters. We’re hockey players, not fashion models. “As okay as it ever was,” I answer with a shrug. “I set it last night, trainer looked at it before we talked with Coach. Little lidocaine cream, and it is what it is.”
Honestly, his punches aren’t what hurt the most. It was his words, which is always the case.
The verbal beatdowns from my parents are what still echo in my head, much more than any ache or pain from a fist. Which reminds me that I have some deeply, brutally honest apologies to make to Penny to rewrite some of the things I’ve said to her over the years.
Never anything as hurtful as my parents, but enough that she’s not sure about me yet. But she will be.
“You deserved it.” He huffs, frowning. “But I’m sorry too. I didn’t know how you felt and thought you were doing the puck bunny thing with my baby sister. That wouldn’t be cool, man.”
“I know. Trust me, I’m not doing that.”
“All right, then, let’s go see what Penny-Nickel-Dime has gotten herself into now,” Dom says, shaking his head, because truthfully, even within the confines of her apartment, there’s no telling. “Whatever it is, it’s on . . . you.”
I roll my eyes. I think he’s going to get a lot of mileage out of that one. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can. If there’s anyone who would know how to handle her, it’s you.”
I think it’s his way of saying I’m worthy of her, and I appreciate that more than he could possibly know.
But there’s one important distinction I need to make.
“I can handle whatever disasters come her way, but she doesn’t need handling.
She’s good on her own. I just want to be the lucky bastard who gets to watch her shine from the good seats. ”
Dominic laughs and points a finger at me. “Use that. Tell her that. It’s some good shit.”
He thinks I’m spitting game, but it’s the truth.
“Speaking of disaster,” Dominic says, letting out an exasperated sigh as we come up the stairs at Penny’s apartment to see a bag sitting in front of her doorway, “I told her not to order food.”
He picks it up before knocking on the door. We wait a few seconds, but she doesn’t answer. I pull at the receipt stapled to the bag, scanning it. “This is over an hour old,” I say, dread starting to build in my gut.
“Shit.” Dominic knocks on the door, harder this time. And as soon as he stops, I start.
“Penny?” When I don’t hear her coming or unlocking the door, I ask Dom, “You have a key?”
“No, she told me she didn’t want me walking in on her with some dude between her legs.” He glances up and down the hallway like she might magically appear from somewhere other than her apartment.
I growl, not liking that image at all, and Dominic chuckles. “This could be fun.”
The tease promises a future full of torment, mostly for me, but Penny will be collateral damage.
Not wanting that, I go back hard. “You think so? Because I’m going to be the only man between her legs from now on,” I inform him with an arrogant smirk.
That wipes the smile off his face right quick.
Back to business, I knock again as I ask, “What about Talia? You have her number?”
“Yeah, but if she’s not here to answer the door, she’s probably at work. You think we should wait?”
Arriving at the same conclusion I’ve already accepted, he asks, “We’re breaking down her door, aren’t we?” I nod. “Okay, but when Penny gets mad, it was your idea, not mine. On three?”
“Like Mississippily?”
“Is there any other way?”
“One, Mississippi . . . two, Mississippi . . . three . . .”