Chapter 21
LOCKE
“Yo, Locke, Coach wants to talk to you in his office before you go.”
I nod at Frederic to let him know I heard him, then set my phone in my cubby and head toward Coach’s office.
We just won another home game, and while I’m feeling damn good about that, they always mess me up a bit when they’re in the afternoon.
Throws my schedule off just enough to make me question what time it is when we get done.
I bump fists with a few of our staff as I pass by, everyone riding a high after beating Vegas—our number one rival team—then knock on the door.
“Hey, Whitlocke,” Coach Smith says as he looks up from his desk. “Come on in.”
Not too long ago, Owen Smith was in the same position I’m in now. He was the “old guy” playing for the Carolina Comets, and he wasn’t looking to get traded and move yet again. He wanted stability. So, he went out and got it himself—he retired.
I don’t plan on doing that just yet, but I still admire the guy for knowing when to hang it up.
Rumor is he did it for his wife because she worked for the team, but I don’t know that for sure.
It could have just been Lawson running his mouth again, though he does have a direct link to the Comets, his brother being their goalie and all.
“Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the chair across from his desk, and I do just that. “Afternoon games blow.”
I chuckle. “Take it you don’t miss them?”
“Not a chance. I mean, I miss playing, don’t get me wrong, but I also don’t miss beating my body up every day.”
He’s not lying about that. This game is physically taxing in ways most people can’t even fathom. The teams release injury reports at the end of the season, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg most times.
“But that’s not why I called you in here.”
“Why did you?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. “Just wanted to check in—old guy to old guy, you know?”
Translation: How are you holding up out there?
“So,” he says, “how do you feel the season is going?”
“Not too bad.”
His lips twitch at my answer, both of us fully aware of the record season I’m having. “Think it’s something you can keep doing?”
“That’s the plan, Coach. Going to give it hell.”
“Good.” He nods. “I’m glad to hear that. And you’re feeling all right? Everything okay after taking that puck up high?”
I’d nearly forgotten about that. So much has happened since, and I wasn’t as bruised and beaten up as I thought I’d be afterward. I still have some leftover scabbing from the gash on my cheek, but other than that, I’m all healed up.
“Feeling good. Having to work hard, but it’s nothing I’m not willing to do.”
He grins at that. “I figured you’d say something like that, and that’s exactly why we like having you as a Serpent, Locke.”
Hope fills my chest. We aren’t anywhere near new contract talks, not with it still being so early in the season, but it gives me a bit of faith that they’re going to work to keep me around. That’s good, because I want to stay, especially with…
No. I can’t base the rest of my career on a girl. I won’t. I?—
Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I would, and that’s a terrifying thought.
“So,” he says, sitting forward, “between you and me…anything special you’re doing? I mean, you’re playing next-level hockey here, Locke. What’s the secret?”
Nessa.
She’s the secret. As soon as I met her, I felt a shift, and it’s only intensified since she came back into my life. I’m playing good hockey because I’m feeling better than I’ve ever felt in my life, and I have her to thank for that.
“Ah,” Coach Smith says, leaning back again, his eyes gleaming with understanding.
“What?”
He lifts a single brow. “It’s a woman.”
“Nah.” I try to play it off, but we both know I’m full of shit.
He even laughs. “Right. Sure.” He grabs a pen from his desk, clicking it open.
“I remember when I tried to deny it, too. Didn’t last too long.
” His smile grows, and I wonder if he’s thinking about his wife.
“Anyway,” he says, shaking himself out of his stupor.
“I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to check in and figured since we had an early game and we don’t need to rush home after this, I’d talk your ear off a bit.
” He flicks his chin toward the door. “Keep playing like you’re playing out there, and you’ll get everything you want, Locke. ”
“Appreciate it, Coach.”
I rise from the chair, and I’m just about out the door when he calls my name.
“Yeah?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Whoever she is, keep her.”
Oh, I plan to.
“Thanks, Coach,” I say before leaving him sitting there with a knowing grin.
I sport a smile of my own as I make my way back to the locker room to grab my things so I can go home and get back to the girl I’m planning on keeping.
I almost told her the other day. It was when I showed her the art studio I built for her, and she broke down in tears over it.
I’d suspected before then that what I was feeling was serious, but that sealed it for me.
Some very important words nearly tumbled out, but I stopped myself at the last moment.
Not because they wouldn’t be true, but because it wouldn’t mean the same as it would if we weren’t hiding this.
All I have to do is muster the courage to tell Hutch, and I am going to. I have it all planned out. I’m going to ask him to dinner, sit him down, and explain everything that happened. In fact, I planned on asking him after the game, before Coach wanted to see me. Hopefully, he’s still here.
I pick up my pace and am relieved to see him when I walk back into the locker room.
“Hey, man. I was just coming to talk to you. I—is that my phone?”
He looks up from where he’s sitting in my stall.
Wait, why is he in my stall? And why the fuck is he holding my phone?
I drag my eyes from my property in his hands, and I’m met with a glare I haven’t been on the receiving end of in a long time. Actually, the last time was when he felt I betrayed him. I?—
Oh fuck . Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He rises to his full height, which is just an inch shorter than my own. Standing here now? With his features pulled tight and his eyes dark? Well, I certainly don’t feel like the bigger man at all. I feel weak and sick, and like I know exactly what’s coming next.
“What the fuck is Vanessa doing calling you?” he asks through clenched teeth.
There are a few guys left behind, including Lawson, Hayes, Fox, and Keller. I glance at them quickly, and all their eyes are trained on us. To my surprise, Keller doesn’t have a smirk on his face. He looks genuinely concerned as his eyes bounce between me and the captain.
“Who?”
It’s the wrong thing to say. I know it the second I say it. I don’t even know why I bothered trying. We know exactly who he’s talking about.
“Don’t fuck with me right now, Whitlocke .” He says my name like it’s a dirty word. He holds my phone up. “Why the fuck is she calling you?”
I could lie. I could come up with a simple reason, like maybe we exchanged numbers because I was helping her with something, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t bring myself to lie anymore.
“Is there something going on between you?” he asks.
I nod, and someone gasps. I assume it’s Lawson.
I ignore him, staring right at Hutch. “She lives with me.”
His eyes widen. “What the?—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “There’s more.”
“More?” he sneers. “What fucking more could there possibly be?”
His voice is cold now, lifeless, and it nearly sends a shiver down my spine.
“She lives with me,” I repeat. “She’s been living with me. She moved out of your place and into mine.”
“What the actual fuck?” He gnashes his teeth. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything? You’ve even fucking asked about her!”
I sigh. “I know. I know I have. I just… Fuck, man. I didn’t exactly know how to tell you.”
“What? That you’re roommates?”
“That I’m in love with her.”
Another gasp, but I don’t dare look away from Hutch. How could I when I know he’s two seconds away from swinging on me? I’d deserve it too. Every damn hit.
But he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t move at all, and I think maybe…maybe it’ll all be okay.
Then he moves so fucking quick I barely have time to react before an arm is against my throat and I’m slammed against a wall several feet behind me.
My head snaps back against it, and it fucking smarts like hell, but I don’t dare try to push him away.
He’s absolutely entitled to this reaction right now.
I’ve been lying to him for months. I would be pissed too if I were in his position.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” His nose is inches away from mine, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen.
“I said I love her, Reed.”
His eyes widen at the use of his first name. He’s always been Hutchinson, Hutch, and occasionally Hutchy. Never Reed, not with me. But this is serious, and I need him to know that.
“How could you possibly love her? You’re just roommates, right? Fucking right ?”
I swallow as best I can with his arm still pressed against my windpipe.
I shake my head. “No. We aren’t.”
Yet another gasp.
“Shut the fuck up, Lawson!” Hutch snaps, and the forward has the brains to zip his lips and sit down.
I dare another glance at my teammates—the ones who haven’t cleared the room by now—and they all appear to be varying degrees of concerned.
Lawson is worried he’s next in line. Hayes is trying to figure out how he’s going to pull Hutch off me.
Fox is wishing we’d just hug. And Keller?
Keller might look the worst of them all, and it’s probably because he knows he’s just as guilty as I am.
Okay, maybe not as guilty, but he’s been aware of this for months. He’s been lying too.
“Explain yourself,” Hutch barks at me.
“Can you let go of me?”
“No.”
I nod. “Fair enough.” I cough, trying to get some air. “I, uh, I met her in New York.”
“What? When? But the last time we were in New York, you already knew her.”