20. Bryce
Bryce
Tournament exhaustion is real. I groan and roll over in bed, pulling the covers over my head. I’m going to need to see Tre, our team’s sports massage therapist, for a massage today. I’ve got to get my green hair fixed first, though. Which means I need to get out of this bed and get ready.
I shove the blankets back and sit up, scrubbing my hands over my face.
“Almost done,” I say to the empty room.
My body celebrates, but my heart… it squeezes painfully in my chest. Because I’ll be headed back to Colorado in a week.
Away from Hadley.
Mentally, I start calculating how long I can extend my stay. I don’t necessarily have to go home right away. Maybe I’ll get an airbnb for a few weeks and spend more time with her.
If she wants me to stay, that is.
That’s a topic we are going to have to discuss. And soon, if I’m extending my stay.
Somehow saying it out loud makes it real. Our time together is running out. At least, our time being in the same city at the same time.
I grab my phone from the nightstand and unplug the charger.
Bryce: Good morning, beautiful!
I snap a picture of my green-tinted hair and send it.
Bryce: Next time you see me, this will be fixed.
Three dots appear, so I wait for her response.
Hadley: Good morning, handsome. You’re not keeping the green? *pouty face*
I laugh and shake my head. Only Hadley would be pouting over the loss of this green mess.
Bryce: Pretty sure the coach would have an aneurysm if I show up today with green hair.
Hadley: Aw shucks. It was GROWING on me. Get it… LOL Like moss.
I snort.
Bryce: Well, technically, I suppose it’s growing ON me.
The way I’m holding my breath waiting for her response should be a crime.
Hadley: Well, I think you’re handsome no matter what color your hair is. *heart eyes*
Bryce: Aw, shucks. Thanks. Gotta go. I have the earliest appointment at the salon.
I sent an SOS to Anne, my hairstylist back home last night, and she told me I needed an appointment ASAP.
Apparently, using boxed dye, which is what I originally planned to do, isn’t a great idea as a quick fix. Thankfully, the salon at the Four Seasons Spa had an appointment available first thing this morning.
I drop the phone onto the bed and push to standing.
Yeah, I need to go in to practice early and see Tre. A massage is necessary today, and sitting in a salon chair this morning isn’t going to help, I’m sure.
I’m stiff and sore. Not a good place to be leading into the last game.
Thirty minutes later, I’m showered, dressed, and in the salon chair while a guy named Raul works his magic.
“Who would do this?” Raul says, shaking his head.
“No one seems to know,” I say. “Though I have my suspicions.”
He tsks. “Well, don’t you worry. We’ll get this fixed up before lunch.”
Two hours later, my hair is back to brown, Raul is looking rather pleased with himself, and I can look at myself without wanting to grumble about the Whos in Whoville.
I make it downstairs in time to grab some lunch, which is good, because I skipped breakfast this morning and I’m starving.
Several players and their families are seated throughout the room. I make a plate and make my way over to where Colt is sitting with a few of the guys. “Hey,” I say, pulling out a chair and plopping down.
“Lookin’ good,” Josh Henson, our goalie, says with a chuckle.
“You fixed it!” Tyson says, grinning.
I side eye him. “Yeah, thankfully.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope,” I say. “Not until someone comes clean.” I raise a brow and stare at him.
“Well, it wasn’t me.”
“Sure it wasn’t, buddy,” Colt says before grabbing his phone. “Looks like Coach is asking anyone who’s available to meet at the practice arena asap.”
Time to go.
I’m pretty sure we analyzed every single second of the last four games. Then, we did it again.
I’m already tired before we hit the ice at practice.
We file out onto the sheet and go through our warm-ups. “I hope you guys are ready to hustle,” Coach Badaszek says. “If you want to win this thing, we have work to do.”
We’re a quarter of the way through practice, and I’m already out of breath and sweating when we stop for a break.
“What do you think they’re doing here?” Stone asks, nodding to the GM and head coach of the Washington DC team who are sitting in the stands watching practice. “They don’t even have any players in this tournament.”
I take a long drink of my water, glancing at the two men whose heads are close together, serious looks on their faces. “Who knows,” I say, tracking their eyes to where Colt is currently working a drill with Coach. “It’s their facility. Maybe they had a staff meeting.”
“Let’s work on transitions,” Coach calls. “We have the momentum coming off of Game 4. Let’s keep it.”
I push off and get into position. Back to work.
“Close the gap!” Coach Badaszek calls. “Faster.”
We go again. “Chambers, keep the stick in the lane,” Coach yells.
We’re getting a drink and catching our breath for a minute when Coach taps his clipboard. “3—on—2 rushes. Let’s go.”
I take one last drink and push onto the ice. The difference between goodness and greatness, I remind myself, is the work you put in.
I’m exhausted, drenched in sweat, and the relief from that massage earlier… gone. We’ve run defensive transitions, 3-on-2 rushes, breakout drills… Coach is throwing everything at us but the kitchen sink this afternoon.
“When we turn it over, I need you sprinting back,” Coach calls. “No fly-bys. Stick in the lane, and if it’s covered, watch the dirty areas.”
By the time we finish on the ice, the Washington guys are gone, but that doesn’t stop the chatter in the locker room. Everyone's throwing out wild guesses about why we had visitors during practice.
“Maybe they just wanted to see winning players on the ice,” Stone says, flexing his biceps.
Kingston shakes his head. “Like you’ve never had a rough season,” he mumbles.
“I heard they want to rebuild,” someone calls from across the locker room.
“I would,” Stone says. “They’ve been struggling.”
“I wonder who they were watching,” Jake says.
I shrug. I’ve got a year left on my contract, so I’m sure it’s not me. My eyes go to Colt. I wonder if he knows anything.
“Are you coming out with us?” Dante asks me. “I think we’re going to that steakhouse again.”
I shake my head. “I have plans,” I say.
“With your girlfriend?” Micah asks, a grin splitting his face.
“Yep.” I glance at the clock on the wall. “And if I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late.”
“Not a good look when you’re meeting the parents,” Colt says, tossing a balled up towel at my head.
That sparks a round of chirping from the guys.
Usually, I’d jump in and hold my own. Right now, I need to get out of here and get ready for dinner with Hadley’s parents. Because Colt’s right. Being late would be a very bad look.
I’m stepping outside just as the car pulls up. I slide in, say hello to the driver, and buckle my seatbelt.
My brain is busy replaying the practice in my mind when my phone rings. Mom’s name flashes across the screen.
“Hey, Mom,” I answer.
“Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting anything? I figured you were off today.”
I nearly laugh out loud. I don’t think I’d call today’s practice being off. My legs are screaming.
“Yeah, just on my way to the hotel to change before dinner. I have time.” I groan when I shift positions and feel the burn through my entire body.
“Oh, you’re not hurt, are you?” Concern makes her voice do that weird cartoon character thing where it climbs higher the longer she talks.
“No. Not hurt, just sore. Nothing that a massage and time in the sauna won’t fix.”
She lets out a relieved breath. “That’s good.”
I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn’t. “Everything okay?” I ask, suddenly concerned about her. “Did something happen?”
“No,” she says, drawing the word out. “I was just waiting for you to tell me about your, um, friend. I thought by now you would have called your mother to share the news. Especially since it’s been all over social media, for goodness’ sake.”
I smile. “I see. So, you’re curious about Hadley.”
“Of course I am,” she says. “I don’t remember the last girl you brought home.”
That’s because it was in college. “I haven’t brought her home,” I say, leaving the yet off. For now. An image of Hadley in the backyard playing with Matti and holding Sadie on her hip. Yeah, I need to make that happen.
“Yet,” she says, echoing my thoughts. “I saw that picture, mister. You have feelings for her.”
My chest warms, and my smile grows. “Yeah, I do.”
She giggles. Honest to goodness giggles. “So when do I get to meet her?” she asks.
The car pulls up to the hotel. I make sure to tip through the app and wave to the driver before stepping out and closing the door. “It’s complicated,” I say, walking through the lobby. “Her life is in DC. Mine is in Colorado.” For another year, anyway.
“You’re not going to let a little thing like distance get in the way of love, are you?” she asks. “That would be a mistake.”
“It isn’t all up to me,” I say. “Besides, distance in any relationship is hard. When you’re an athlete… Let’s just say I’ve seen those relationships fail too often with my teammates.”
“You’re not them,” Mom says. “Besides, if she’s the one, things will work out eventually.” Mom gets that dreamy tone in her voice. The one that tells me she’s thinking about my father.
I’m happy for her. Them.
After what my grandparents put them through, threatening to take me if they didn’t break up, they deserve some happiness. Even if it’s still uncomfortable sometimes.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “Listen, I have to go. I’m meeting Hadley, and I don’t want to be late.”
She sighs. “Just consider what I said, okay? True love doesn’t come around every day.”
“I will. I promise. Love you, Mom.”
I hang up and slip my phone back into my pocket.
Mom’s words echo through my head as I head to my room. True love doesn’t come around every day.
I don’t know what will happen after this week. I don’t know how we’ll make this work.
But Mom’s right. Distance isn’t enough to keep me from trying.
She’s worth it.