14. Every Missed Shot
Chapter 14
Every Missed Shot
Dev
Things look a little different in the daylight. I came home with her. I couldn’t say no. That seems to be the case with her. I can’t say no, and I can’t stay away. No matter how bad of an idea being with her is. I’m drawn to her.
When she tilted her head up to look at me this morning, her eyes were shining, blonde hair tangled in a heap around her head. And her tank top was all twisted up around her chest. She looked like my version of perfection.
And now I have to leave it behind. Go home. Every step I take toward the front door has that guilt swelling up in my chest.
“See you later, handsome.” Her redheaded roommate has been teasing us all morning, but it’s good natured. I hate that I can’t take her home with me. Show her off to the guys .
“Wait.” Cece’s small hand lands on my shoulder as I’m about to push the front door open.
I turn back to her, the longing ache in my chest deepening. Her hair is now piled on top of her head in a purple scrunchy. It’s a perfect match for my jersey, and that need to see her wearing it kicks back up. She’s darted off and is rifling through a pile of papers on the hall table.
She gathers a bunch up and skips back to stuff them into my hand.
“What’s this?”
She pulls her lip between her teeth, and it looks like she’s second guessing her decision, about to snatch the papers back from me.
I pull them away before she can act on the thought, glancing at the first page.
It’s her art for sure. There’s a sketch of a woman on the first page standing with her legs spread in full superhero garb. It’s a black and white sketch, but the details are exquisite. Clearly, she drew this. Next to the woman is a series of barely legible scribbles as if ideas were flowing through her brain faster than her fingers could write them down.
“It’s my character, and some of the ideas I have for my series. I shouldn’t have.” She shakes her head, reaching toward the papers. “I don’t know what I was thinking. You don’t have to look at them.”
I clear my throat. There’s a burning sensation in my chest. She’s entrusting me with her precious work. I don’t deserve that kind of trust, but I need to see this. See the ideas that are lurking in her brain? I’ve got no artistic skills myself, but comic books have always been my escape. Even before I had hockey, I could escape to the comic book store to get away from whatever awful situation I found myself in.
“No.”
“What?”
“Don’t. I’d like to look at them.” I’m hoping she doesn’t notice how thick my voice has gotten.
“Oh, okay. Cool. So, maybe we can get together soon, and you can tell me what you think?”
I nod. “Sounds like a plan.” She doesn’t need the excuse to tempt me into a return visit, but I like the idea that I’ve got something important to her. She’s definitely going to want it back, so that means she wants me back.
I lean in, cupping her cheek in my hand. My hand is so big it spans the length of her head. Her lips are soft under mine, and this kiss is different. Not like when we parted in the hotel. That was a goodbye. This is a promise that we’ll see each other again.
Everything is a little colder when I pull away, heading out the front door.
“Bye, puck boy.” It’s Georgia again, getting in her two cents.
“Bye, ghost girl.”
The redhead tilts her head back with a raspy laugh much better suited to a chain smoking grandmother than a southern belle. “I like you, puck boy. You should keep him, Cece.”
Cece mentioned her roommate is into the paranormal, and this morning she had some podcast playing at breakfast. Two women talking about ghostly encounters. It was pretty fun, not that I believe in ghosts. There are enough monsters in the real world without worrying about what might be lurking in some other plane of existence.
Normally I don’t mind the bus. You get the occasional weirdo causing a fuss, and it doesn’t always smell the best, but I’ve smelled worse than a little bus funk. There are benefits to my six feet five inches of muscle. Nobody bothers me. Unless they recognize me from the team and want to chat hockey.
Today I’m fidgeting with my bag and shifting in my seat. Usually, I have my comfort book in my hand to hide behind. But I finished my last read and haven’t hit the library yet, so I’m at loose ends, staring at the slow progress of tidy houses as the bus passes by.
I’m on my feet, hanging onto the railing with a loose hold three stops early. My body sways to the rhythm as we hit a pothole as easy as if I was balancing on my skates when we finally ease up to the stop near our house. Usually, I’m the only one who takes advantage of this. Beau’s got his fancy ride, JJ and Grant each have a decent car, and even Cole has one now. Jacks offered me his old car, Mabel, before he moved off, but I said no. No point in keeping something that’s going to cost me more money than I have. I can handle the bus or hitch a ride with any of the other guys. So, Cole ended up with the beater. I never told him I got the first offer from Jacks. What would be the point of that?
The sidewalk jars my knees as I leap down, skipping the stairs. I’m in such a hurry. However, now that I’m here staring down the road to our house, I’m wondering why I was in such a hurry to disembark. There will be questions. I haven’t been out with a girl all semester.
Even dragging my feet, my legs cover so much ground that I’m staring down the cheerful front doorway too soon. Dragging in a deep breath, I slip my key into the lock. Before I’ve had time to turn it, the door swings open, and I stumble inside, hand still attached to the key in the lock.
“Lucy!!! Where have you been all night? I thought you were going to be late for practice.” It’s JJ, of course. Our overenthusiastic goalie can’t help himself. Normally I’d shoot Beau a look, and he’d dart in for the save, but I’m not so eager to look him in the eyes after the things I did to his sister last night. Fuck, what were you thinking?
As if I was telegraphing my thoughts, he steps in behind JJ, grabbing him by the shoulder and tossing him to the side. “Leave him alone.”
“Thanks.” I mutter, still not glancing up from my feet.
“Seriously, though. Finally broke your dry spell? I thought maybe you were going with abstinence to improve your game.”
That gets my attention. I glance up to see my best friend with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s got a cocky grin on his polished face. I’m trying not to compare to his sister’s. I can’t help myself. His hair is a much darker shade of blond than her pale locks, but they’ve got the same piercing blue eyes. He’s obviously much taller, but they share a nose straight in that blue-blooded kind of way. He has a pronounced bump in the middle that didn’t come naturally, though. Broken noses are a hazard of the game, and lots of us share that feature.
“You think my game is off?” I can’t help the worry in my tone. Deep down, I know he’s joking around, but I can’t help the constant edge of worry that rides me. Always afraid I’m not good enough. That I’m going to get rejected before I even get a chance to prove myself.
He tilts his head to the side, studying me as if he can’t quite figure out if I’m serious. “Obviously not. I don’t think your game has ever been this strong. You’ve been showing the rest of the team up every single time we hit the ice. You may not think I’ve noticed, since I’ve been dealing with those other two jokers so much, but I have.”
I blow a breath out, but my shoulders stay tense. “Good.” I nod, brushing by him to head up to my room. He claps me on the back as I walk by, but otherwise leaves me alone.
“What? You’re not going to make him spill? I want to know who he went home with?” JJ comes bouncing back over, ignoring the vague threat in Beau’s eyes. “Was she hot? I bet she was a redhead. The quiet ones always like them spicy. Maybe a brunette, no blonde. I think Lucy is definitely into blondes. It’s that devil and angel thing.”
My head snaps up to glare at JJ, but he just laughs, even as I’m balling my fist up and slamming it into my palm .
“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. A hundred percent he’s got a blonde under his skin. What can I say? It’s one of my special skills. It’s like I’m some kind of sexual psychic. I can always tell what shade of hussy someone got inside. If you know what I mean?” He gives an exaggerated wink, while he pumps his hips at me, and my limbs get all hot and shaky as I step toward him.
Beau’s hand lands on my shoulder to restrain me from seriously damaging our star goalie. I know he’s trying to signal to me he’ll deal with it, but I’ve never been so fucking furious at our dumbass teammate. Sure, he never shuts his mouth, and has zero filter, but I usually don’t let it get to me this hard. But the thought of him turning Cece into a dirty joke enrages me.
Beau pushes past me to confront him. “First. What is wrong with you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been playing goal without a helmet and taken too many pucks to the skull. Second. Who says hussy? And third. If I ever hear you disrespect a woman like that in my house again, you’ll be out on your ass faster than you can say Zamboni.”
JJ’s mouth falls open in a comical oh. It’s not unusual for Beau to lay down the law as the team captain and owner of the house we live in, but I’ve never heard him threaten to kick anyone out.
“Sorry, Captain.”
“And apologize to Lucy as well.”
Our humbled goalie turns back to me. “Sorry, Lucy.”
“Don’t let it happen again. ”
“Thanks.” The word is a mumble on the air as I dart past Beau, heading for the stairs and the safety of my room.
Thank fuck. I burst through my door, stretch to the top of the bookshelf, and pull down my ancient copy of The Boys of Winter. It’s the one thing I’ve kept from my childhood, and I read it any time I need a reminder. Of how and why I survived this life. It’s this sport and the one foster parent who cared enough to find me an outlet that wouldn’t land me in jail. The title is barely legible anymore, cover scratched, and pages torn, but it’s still my most valuable possession.
Before I crack the bent spine to lose myself in the pages, I pull the sheaf of papers Cece handed me out of my bag, idly flipping through her artwork, and it sucks me right in.
My favorite book is still sitting on the corner of my desk when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in.” I’m so drawn into the world she’s created that the automatic response slips out. I spin around in the luxurious office chair that came with the house as the door swings open.
Relief is my initial reaction. I wasn’t thinking when I granted passage to my inner sanctum. If I had been, I might have been more concerned that it was JJ about to wreak havoc on my peace.
“Hey.” I fold my arms, leaning back in my chair, but avoiding eye contact.
“Hey, man. What’s going on? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”
I guess my attempt to fly under the radar and act like everything is fine has been failing. Am I even surprised? Beau and I have been tight since our freshman year. He probably knows me better than anyone else in my life. Maybe it was wishful thinking that he would be too distracted by his captain role and the rest of the team to notice me pulling away.
“Just been busy.”
He leans back on his heels, and I can feel his eyes locked on me. Finally, when I can’t stand the scrutiny anymore, I look up.
“There you are. Seriously, what’s up? Is it a girl? Something else. You’ve been catching rides with the other guys, not coming out as much. You know you can tell me anything.”
I mash my lips together to keep back the bitter laugh. Pretty sure he suspects nothing, because if he knew about Cece and me, he wouldn’t be standing there casually digging. I’d be the one out on my ass instead of our goalie.
Something. I’ve got to give him something. I squeeze my eyes shut, take a deep breath, and spill. “My father showed up. In the summer, when you guys were all gone. And again at the game yesterday.”
Beau gasps. He knows how I grew up, bouncing around houses. He knows my home situation was bad, and my biological father is the reason I don’t drink, but he doesn’t know all the details. If he assumed both my parents were dead, I never contradicted him.
“Your father? I didn’t know. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He keeps staring at me. “Sort of. I will be. I told him to get lost. I don’t want to see him again. I’m sure he’s looking to snag a ride on the pro hockey gravy train. ”
“I’m sorry, dude. If you need any backup. Let me know. I’ll pull the entire team to scare him off if you need.”
I shake my head. “No. Please don’t tell the rest of the guys. They don’t know... It’s in the past. I don’t think he’ll do anything too crazy. He actually seemed okay. Said he was sober, has a fiancée. Probably won’t cause shit.”
He takes a few steps toward me, dropping a hand on my shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone or get anyone else involved. And feel free to call me a crazy asshole, but do you think maybe if you talk to him, he’ll leave you alone?”
My head tilts back, eyes seeking the ceiling. “Maybe. But I don’t want to see him. He’s not worth my time.”
“I gotcha. But if you need anything, let me know.”
The seat squeaks under my shifting weight. As if I didn’t have this intense guilt dragging me down already. Why does he have to be so understanding? It only makes it worse. What I’m doing behind his back. Maybe I should stop. Tell her I can’t see her again, but every time I close my eyes, her face appears in my mind. I can’t shake her. And I don’t want to. No matter how much of an asshole it makes me.
“Will do.”
I chance a glance at him. His brows are pulled together in a slight frown, dark blond hair a little less groomed than usual, as if he’s been running a hand through it on repeat. Maybe he needs me, and I haven’t been there for him? Hiding away.
“What about you? You okay? Those fuckers aren’t too much for you to handle, are they? ”
He’s frozen for a moment, almost as if he didn’t hear me, then he reactivates with a toss away laugh. “Nah. I’ve got it under control.”
“Let me know if you need me to rough them up a little. Especially that cocky fucker, Hail.” The rookie has really been testing Beau’s captain skills, but he paired him up with Cole, and they seem to have formed an uneasy truce.
“Will do.”
He steps in a little closer, leaning over me with a deepening frown. “What’s that?”
I follow his gaze to the pile of papers I left carelessly lying on the desk. His sister’s artwork. Something I’m sure he’s very familiar with. Fuck. How could I be so stupid?
I’m whipping around, scooping up the papers, and stuffing them into my desk drawer, hoping he didn’t catch a good look. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it.
“Nothing. Just part of an assignment.”
When I look back at him, he’s staring at the wall behind me as if it’s going to spill my secrets.
“Didn’t think you were taking an art elective.”
“I’m not. It’s for my psych elective.”
“Oh, gotcha.” The lines on his face smooth out and it’s painful how easily he believed the lie.
Because he trusts me. I’m supposed to be his best friend, and instead I’m fouling him behind the ref’s back.