Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
West
It’s been two days since I heard from Serena, and I’m starting to feel bad about our argument.
I didn’t even give her a chance to explain and the more I think about her taking money from DeMarco, the less confident I feel that she did.
She won’t even take money from me, not directly, and while he absolutely owes her for years of child support, she’s been firm that she doesn’t want him in her life.
Right?
I don’t know anything right now and I need to call her, but it’s late morning in Atlanta on a Wednesday, which means she’s at work. We may argue again, and it wouldn’t be fair to do that to her when she’s at school.
Lying in bed, I stare up at the ceiling.
She’s got me all twisted up inside. Even when things were going bad with Briar, when I knew the writing was on the wall, I didn’t feel quite like this.
Like I’m losing something extremely important.
I’d been falling for Briar, but she kept me at enough of an emotional distance that I was a lot more prepared than I am with Serena.
Despite how hard I’ve tried to keep things casual.
Once I decided to let her in, that was it, and now…
Fuck.
I grab my phone, wondering if I should send flowers or something. A soft apology for not listening, if nothing else. I’ve no sooner opened my browser when I see Serena’s face. For a moment I’m unsure, because she’s wearing a ton of makeup and her hair is a lot longer.
Staring at the picture, I realize it’s from when she was on Dusty Peaks. Four years ago. Except—
Former Dusty Peaks star on board for Reboot.
What. The. Fuck.
I skim the article and it’s all there, in black and white. A press release talking about the reboot, bringing back most of the original cast, plans for the fall release, and a lot of details I’m too pissed off to care about.
Once again, she went behind my back and did something I had no idea she was going to do. And this one really hurts because we never directly discussed her accepting child support from DeMarco, but we absolutely talked about her moving to L.A. to star in Dusty Peaks.
And she is the star.
There are no current pictures of her, but the article has tons of photos of her from the original show, both by herself and with her costars.
God dammit.
Rage and confusion and pain ricochet through my chest, and I toss the phone aside.
How could she do this?
And more than that, how could I let this happen…again?
I’m mad at myself and mad at her and just…mad.
Despite not wanting to bother her at work, I send a text anyway.
WEST: I can’t believe you did this without even talking to me. I guess that’s all I need to know about where I stand in your life.
She doesn’t respond right away, and that’s fine with me.
I get up, yank on some clothes and wander down to find some coffee.
Ashton Knight is already there, looking a little hungover, and I shake my head.
I remember being twenty-two. I could party all night and still show up and play hockey.
These days, I need my sleep. I’m not old, but my body reminds me not to overdo it.
“Morning.” His voice is gruff, like he just woke up.
“Late night?” I ask with a grin.
He nods. “Yeah. You know how it is. Pretty lady. Too much wine. One thing leads to another…”
I do know.
Too bad I didn’t stick to one-night stands.
But he doesn’t need my sob story.
“Good for you,” I say, getting a cup from the buffet.
“You okay?” He’s watching me intently.
“Yeah, all good.” I fill the cup and take a sip. Nice and strong. Just the way I like it. Especially on a day like today.
“Hey, I have a question for you,” I say, suddenly remembering my conversation with DeMarco.
“Shoot.”
“I know this is a little shady, but could you talk to your brother, find out if there are any rumors about DeMarco getting traded to the Thunder.” Technically, they need my permission, but there are always loopholes when big deals are in the works. That’s what makes me nervous.
He grimaces. “Please tell me that’s not a real thing.”
“He said it was, but he might have been fucking with me.” I don’t talk about the clause in my contract because it’s no one else’s business.
“That better be all it is,” he mutters, yanking his phone out of his pocket. He immediately starts typing and I sip my coffee as we wait for a response.
Then my phone buzzes and I see Serena’s name flash on the screen.
She’s calling me.
But I don’t have anything to say.
Not now.
I’m too hurt and frustrated to be sure I won’t say something I’ll regret, and in spite of everything, I’ve never been the kind of man who lashes out. My M.O. is to just walk away, and that’s probably the best move in this case.
I let the call go to voicemail and wait as Ashton starts typing again. Then he looks up at me.
“Apparently, yes, there have been some conversations, but as far as he knows, no offer has been made.”
“Fuck. Me.” I pull in a deep breath to calm my breathing.
I won’t play on a team with him.
And I have a contract protecting me from that. Maybe that makes me an arrogant ass, but I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let DeMarco derail my career.
He tried when we were younger, and he got drafted earlier than I did, but my career has been stellar while his has had huge ups and downs.
“Thanks,” I tell Ashton. “I have to talk to Coach.”
“What’s going on?” he calls after me.
“I’ll tell you later.” I pull out my phone and text Coach Teller, who responds immediately, telling me to come up to his room.
“I need to know what the deal is with DeMarco,” I say by way of greeting.
Coach arches his brows, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Well, good morning to you. Come on in.”
I’m itching for a fight, that’s how wound up I am at the moment, but obviously I’m not going to do that with Coach Teller. He can tell I’m agitated, though, and cocks his head.
“What’s going on?” he asks in that calm, patient voice that’s so soothing in the locker room.
“DeMarco. Is it true he’s being traded to the Thunder?”
Coach squints. “Not to my knowledge. Why?”
“Because I won’t play with him. Period. End of story. It’s him or me.” I don’t know if Coach is up to date on the terms of my agreement with the team, but if not, he’s about to find out.
Coach just looks confused. “I’ll be honest with you, West—I haven’t heard anything about it, but if there are trades to be made before the deadline, there could be something in the works no one has mentioned yet.”
“There are only two teams I’ll agree to be traded to,” I say quietly.
“The Knights or the Sidewinders. That’s it.
It’s in my contract. And I have a gentleman’s agreement with Mr. Carrier that DeMarco wouldn’t be traded here for at least two years.
” I fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t mean to be a jerk, not to you at least, but I need to know what’s going on because I’m not willing to play with him. ”
“Look, if I have any say in it, he’s not coming here,” Coach says quietly. “I don’t know what your history is with him, and if you have an agreement with Mr. Carrier, then you need to be talking to him. Not me.”
I nod, annoyed but resigned.
“What’s really going on?” he asks after a moment. “This isn’t like you, and I’m willing to bet it’s about more than the possibility of DeMarco being traded to the team.”
“Serena and I are done,” I admit. “I guess I’m not handling it well. And then this DeMarco thing.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Is there any saving the relationship?”
“I don’t think so. She’s moving to L.A. She got picked up to do the reboot of Dusty Peaks. You ever watch it?”
“Hell yeah.” He nods. “Viggo and I loved that show. Damn, I’m really sorry. You not interested in going back to your old team?”
“Not a chance in hell.” I shake my head and then sigh. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t be taking my bad mood out on you.”
“That’s partly what I’m here for. You want to talk about it?”
I hesitate.
Do I?
Not really.
There’s nothing to say.
She made her choice and I’m making mine.
“Not yet,” I say. “I’m not ready. Gotta lick my wounds in private.”
“Understood. But if you change your mind, I’m here.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Listen, I don’t know what’s happening with regard to DeMarco but I’ll find out, okay?
Try not to overthink things. We’re on track to make the playoffs, and the chemistry both in the locker room and on the ice is really good.
There are no plans to fuck that up. Trust me when I tell you I have no interest in bringing on a shit disturber like DeMarco. ”
That’s good to hear.
We talk for a few more minutes and then I head back to my room.
I got a text from Serena while we were talking but I haven’t read it yet. I wait until I’m in my room and sink down on the edge of the mattress.
SERENA: I’m not sure what you’re talking about—would you call me please?
I think about that for a long time as I stare at her text.
What’s the point?
They wouldn’t have put out a press release about her being on the show if the deal wasn’t inked, so what is there to say? She’s moving to L.A. and I absolutely am not. I’m also not particularly interested in a long-distance relationship.
No, this thing between us has run its course.
I’m done.
I’ve bent over backwards to be good to her while she was struggling, but the moment her life starts to turn around, she suddenly has no time or interest in our relationship. That tells me everything I need to know.
Even though it nearly kills me, I type out one final text.
WEST: I don’t think there’s anything left to say. Actions speak louder than words and yours speak volumes. Take care of yourself.
My finger hovers over the send button.
Once I touch it, it’s over. Officially and permanently over.
I close my eyes and press down.
And it hurts so much more than I thought it would.