Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
ALEC
When I hear a door open somewhere behind me in the upper seats of the Summit, I don’t turn around. I’m sure it’s Evie. She’s the only person who knows I’m here.
But it isn’t Evie.
It’s Nathan.
He doesn’t say a word, just files into the row I’m occupying and sits down.
Footsteps echo on the other side of me, and I spin to see Eli moving in on the other side, followed by Felix and Camden. When I look back at Nathan, Van and Logan are sitting down on his opposite side.
Nobody says anything. They just sit and look down at the ice, just like I’ve been for the last two hours.
A surge of emotion makes my chest tight.
My team. My brothers. I didn’t know how much I wanted them to be here until they showed up.
I lean forward and prop my elbows on my knees. The rink lights are on, thanks to Javi, the facilities manager who let me into the Summit earlier, and the ice is pristine and smooth. I don’t often see it from this angle, and it’s a beautiful sight.
Nathan drops a hand onto my back. “It looks good from up here.”
“Yeah, it does,” I agree.
Another few moments pass before Eli clears his throat. “So, my mom just had a really bad flare up and we aren’t sure why. The past few days have included a lot of doctor’s appointments, but no real answers. It’s wearing on all of us.”
“Sorry, man,” Camden says, and a few guys nod their support.
Nathan leans forward. “Uh, Blake just busted up his shoulder playing flag football,” he says, talking about his little brother, who is a top draft prospect for the NHL. “He’ll be out for six weeks, and he’s beating himself up for it, worried it’s going to impact his prospects. It sucks, because it actually might.”
“Nah, he’ll be all right,” Logan says, reaching over to give Nathan a good-natured punch in the arm. “His stats are too good.”
“My father-in-law still hates me,” Van says, and we all chuckle.
“Coach does not hate you,” Eli says.
“Then why do his eyes frown every time he looks at me?” Van asks.
“His eyes frown?” I ask, and Van sits up, mimicking Coach Davis’s favorite expression, brows furrowed, lips pursed. I roll my eyes. “He looks at all of us like that,” I say. Except, Coach won’t look at me like that anymore. Van must sense my thoughts, because he reaches behind Nathan and gives my shoulder a squeeze.
Nathan lifts a thumb and points it at Camden. “Pretty sure this guy is still heartbroken.”
“I’m not heartbroken,” Camden says.
“Yeah, you are,” the rest of us all say in unison.
Camden mumbles something under his breath, then a few beats of silence pass before Felix clears his throat.
“Gracie and I have been trying for a baby,” he says. “It’s only been a few months, which, I realize isn’t that long, but we keep striking out, and Gracie is really focused, and it’s making sex feel weird and a little like work.”
“That’s rough, man,” Eli says.
A few other guys echo Eli’s comment, and Camden reaches over and claps Felix on the back.
“Okay, if I say this out loud,” Logan says, “you have to swear you’ll never say anything to Parker.”
We all sit up a little taller and look toward Logan.
His jaw tenses before he finally admits, “Please don’t tell Parker, but I really, really hate the color pink.”
We all laugh, and a little more of the tension in my shoulders drains away.
“Dude, why do you keep buying her so much pink stuff?” Van asks.
“Because she loves it,” Logan says. “That’s all the reason I need.”
I know what my teammates are doing. Normalizing the struggle. Being vulnerable with me so that if I need to, I can do the same thing with them.
Nathan nudges my knee with his. “Come on, man. You’re up.”
I take a long, slow breath, then finally say, “Evie’s ex showed up at her house tonight, and I made him sit outside in the cold for half an hour while we waited for Evie to get home.”
Nathan scoffs. “If anybody deserved it, he did.”
“Also,” I say, hating that I finally have to say these words to my teammates. “I’m never going to play hockey again.”
For a long moment, nobody says a word. It’s not like I expected my teammates to be anything but supportive. But it still feels like I’m failing somehow. Like if I’d just played a little differently that last game, taken care of myself a little better, maybe my knee could have made it a few more seasons.
“Hey, do you guys remember that time Alec scored a hat trick?” Van asks. “Three goals from a defenseman. How often does that ever happen?”
Nathan chuckles. “He was on fire that night.”
“Remember when we accidentally left him sleeping on the bus in Chicago, and when he finally woke up, he had to climb the bus lot fence and hitchhike to the arena?”
“That was crazy,” I say. “I was so late to the game, I missed warmups.”
“Coach was totally freaking out,” Van says, and I wonder if he’s finding particular satisfaction in remembering his father-in-law so close to unraveling.
“What about the time he broke that guy’s nose?” Logan said. “Was that last season?”
“It was the only fight he ever started,” Nathan says.
“What did that guy even do?” Eli asks.
“He made fun of Felix,” I say. “And he pissed me off.”
“Really?” Felix asks. “Your only fight was over me?”
“A man’s gotta protect his goalie,” I say.
A general murmur of assent moves down the line, then we’re quiet again. The silence feels good this time. Better than it did before when the weight of my confession was still pressing down on me.
“It was a good run, Cap,” Felix says.
“Yeah, it was,” Eli adds.
“The team isn’t the same without you,” Logan says.
Van nods his head in agreement. “It never will be.”
“Best defensive partner I’ve ever played with,” Nathan adds.
I look down the row when I hear the clink of glass. Camden is passing out bottles of my favorite Dark Horse Brewery IPA. When everyone has a beer, he lifts his and points it toward me. “To Captain.”
The toast is echoed down the line from these men, these teammates who have meant more to me over the past few years than anyone in the world.
I came to the Summit to say goodbye, and I did, in my own way, before they showed up. But having them beside me has made something that was mostly just bitter feel bittersweet.
It has been a good run. Because every day that I’ve spent on the ice, these men have been beside me.
“Did you really make her ex sit outside?” Van asks after a long swig of beer. “It’s December, man. That’s cold.”
“Literally,” Camden adds.
“The guy knocked on Evie’s door, looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘Thanks for saving my spot.’”
A chorus of ohhhs sounds down the row.
“See? I was totally justified.”
“What did he want?” Eli asks.
“No clue,” I say. “To meet his kid, probably. For all I know, he’s still there.”
“He’s not,” Nathan says. “He’s gone.”
I sit up and look toward Nathan. “You talked to Evie?”
He eyes me. “I mean, we’re here. She was the one who suggested we come.”
I sink back into my seat.
Of course this was her doing. I shouldn’t be surprised. One of the things I love about Evie is her emotional IQ. She’s always been good at reading me. At sensing what I need, sometimes before I realize I need it myself.
A sudden restless energy pulses through me. It’s late. Already after ten, and Evie has to work in the morning. But I need to see her. Talk to her. Make sure she’s okay after talking to Devon.
“I think I need to go,” I say, my fingers drumming on my thigh. I look around at my friends. “I should, right?”
“Yes!” they all say at once.
I stand and look back at the six of them one last time.
“Thanks, guys,” I say. I can only hope they understand the true depth of my gratitude.
“Get your ugly face out of here,” Felix says, and I smile.
Then I turn and leave the arena as quickly as my knee will allow.