23. August
23
I left the office early on Friday to get ready for the game. I’d worked late the night before and my brain was fried. I was beyond exhausted. My arithmetic was off on that last account I worked on. But I was more than pumped for the game tonight.
And I needed to see her right after, planning on using the adrenaline from our win to tell her the truth.
My seats were reserved for her and a friend. It didn’t matter if she brought Nicole or Frankie, as long as she wasn’t bringing a date.
Harper was mine. And I wasn’t going to let my brother take her away from me the way he had everything else.
Part of me wished she would slap the hell out of me, needing her to. Another part of me hoped she’d wrap her arms around me, thanking God she wasn’t falling for the same man who’d broken her heart years ago.
Either way, I wasn’t losing her.
My chest ached as fear settled in me. “Please don’t hate me after tonight, Harp.”
I got in uniform and lined up with my team to walk through the tunnel after a quick huddle Simon led.
It was going to be a great game. We had an amazing strategy. And I was playing the first line.
“Rookie, let’s talk after the game, alright?” Simon said.
“I’m no Rookie.”
“You will be next season. Now let’s go fix what your brother broke.” He fist-bumped me, but I didn’t appreciate the insult toward my brother. Troy was no saint, but he didn’t deserve the shit talk from his own team.
My face lit the moment I saw her in the stands. She noticed me instantly and smiled back with a small wave.
We’re working this out tonight, baby. Even if you walk out on me.
She shot me two thumbs up but looked about as nervous as I was. I lined up for the puck drop, determined to keep my focus. I had two goals tonight.
Win this game. Win the girl.
“What the hell was twenty-three doing out there?” I panted as Ryan and I trodded down the tunnel toward the locker room, sweating.
“Hey, are you coming to Coach’s party tomorrow?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve got too much going on at work, and if things go well tonight, I’ll have other plans.”
Simon punched my arm. “No time for dating, huh? See what being a pro player gets you?”
“She’s not like that.” Harper wasn’t superficial. She was sincere, honest, innocent. And I immediately kicked myself again for saying I didn’t know her well enough for her to have any effect on me.
I’m in love with her .
During intermission, the three of us walked to the lockers for a breather and talk strategy before the next period.
Ryan stopped short the second he walked into the room. Simon and I behind him.
Troy was sitting by my locker, sliding on a clean, spare uniform.
“Troy?”
“What’s the matter, you don’t recognize your double?” he glanced up.
A smidgeon bigger than me, Simon stepped around, intimidatingly toward Troy. “You weren’t due back until practice this weekend.”
Troy finished tying up his laces and stood. “Last I checked, I was the real Troy Hartman, and if you’ll excuse me...”
He started to walk past us, but Simon put a hand up against his chest. “You’re not playing tonight. You shouldn’t even be here. If Coach sees the two of you—”
“I wouldn’t get in my way, Simon. If Coach finds out you’ve been lying to him and you knew all along, pretty sure you two will have your titles stripped.”
“You’ll have a lot more to lose if you come clean now. Get out of that uniform and let August finish this game.” Ryan approached with a more civilized tone.
I moved around the two men to face my brother. “Troy, I’m sorry, but you can’t just come in here unannounced and slip into a game in the third—”
“I’m finishing them, August. Thanks for starting for me but I’m ending it. This is the team that almost ruined my career. I know what I’m doing tonight. I can play like I did—”
“What about next game? When you don’t have all that retaliation and heat playing for you?” Simon argued.
“Yeah, Troy and you haven’t been to practice—” I started.
“ You haven’t been to practice in over a year and you did just fine. You’re not better than me, August. You play for fun. There’s no pressure. Imagine making this your living and every fucking night is a nightmare because you have seconds to get something right while people are coming at you. You get to work in your pretty office with people jumping at your every command, well I don’t live that way. I try not to get creamed out there while I fight with everything I have to get a fucking goal.”
The teammates exchanged an uncomfortable glare and stepped aside.
I turned to both of them. “Can I have a minute?”
Simon released a breath. “We’re back on in ten. I need a Hartman out there in eight. You two figure out which one it’s going to be.”
I nodded and they both stepped out of the room.
Troy avoided eye contact.
I sat to unlace for good measure. This wasn’t his game to finish. But I knew my twin—and eight minutes wasn’t enough to convince him of that.
“Spend some quality time with Dad over the weekend?”
“This isn’t about anything Dad lectured me about. Or the fact that he thought taking me to the local rink during off hours was going to do anything for my self-esteem. I’m ready. I needed a break, I got hit hard with that loss, but I’m ready.”
I nodded. “I know it’s not easy, Troy. I know you fight to keep up with the others. I know you’re scared every time you get out there that you’re not good enough. It’s hard living with that kind of doubt and I’m not surprised it wore you down.”
He wasn’t looking at me but was nodding, his mouth in a thin line, determined to stay angry at me for whatever reason.
He stood. “Yeah well, I’m also not buying that Harper cancelled on me for tomorrow, I think that’s you just being spiteful.”
I rubbed my eyelids. Since she texted me , I had to give him the message. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself then? You know where she works.”
“Don’t patronize me, I’d do it. But Harper wasn’t part of what I asked you to cover for me, was she?"
Tiredly, I removed my gear. “No, she wasn’t.”
He shook his head as if disgusted with me. “You know I dated that girl for a few months in high school.”
How could I forget? “What’s your point?”
“The second you told me she drew that sketch of me—or you—at practice, I knew there was something up with you guys. I watched her all fucking weekend, August. She knows you’re not me.”
I shook my head. Anger building in me for bringing her into our fight. She was innocent. And he was making her out to be a liar?
Not on my fucking watch.
He wiggled his finger when I said nothing. “I bet she knows.”
“You’re fucking crazy. She doesn’t know.”
He scoffed and clapped his hands together. “I bet part of the reason she’s back in town and suddenly all over you, is because she wants me back. And you’re going along for the ride.”
“She doesn’t want you. I’m the one she wants,” I howled, instantly regretting it when he stepped back with an all-knowing grin.
“She’s pretending you’re me.”
“You’re delusional.”
“She’s not an idiot, August,” he snapped.
I exhaled, taking his Jersey off my back. “I didn’t say she was. She’s being misled, Troy.”
“Do you really think she hasn’t figured it out by now? What fucking dream world are you living in?”
“I’m living in a reality. You’re the one who’s dreaming," I said calmly.
"She can’t have me, so she’s playing along.” He laughed. “I think she’s having fun with it, riding it out for as long as the meek brother allows.”
That's not true. It can't be. She wouldn't.
Harper had no idea. I was the one misleading her. It wasn’t the other way around.
I left everything but my own skates on the floor by his hook. “You’re up in two minutes. Good luck.” I didn’t look him in the eye when I said it, but I meant it. I wished him luck because he was going to fucking need it.
Back at my apartment, I buried the skates in the back of the closet. It was going to be a while till I ever used those again.
If ever.
I opened my laptop to bury my head in work, then slammed it, having zero desire to deal with this shit tonight. I couldn’t think. The game ended twenty minutes ago and I ignored Harper's texts looking for me. Not that I believed Troy’s dumb theories, but there was no way I could go through with telling her tonight.
I was having doubts. I knew that when Troy started making some goddamn fucking sense, I’d lost it. I needed sleep, to rethink everything.
No way she knows .
Everything I ever thought I knew about Harper Maxwell would be wrong if she had.
Barefoot and tired, I walked to my bar, poured myself a scotch, and turned to sports news to see how the game ended. Not the least bit surprised when I saw the score.