35. Grant
THIRTY-FIVE
GRANT
MAY, FOUR SEASONS AGO
Life, as it turns out, goes on even when you’re sad.
April comes to an end, and we advance to the postseason. May starts. We win two series in a row, and there’s not a trace of Amelia anywhere.
No texts, no calls.
Not even a congratulatory message after we advanced to the Eastern Conference finals, and I guess the silence is my new normal.
The distance stings, which tells me this separation from her is for the best. We were getting too close, and I’m respecting her decision for some space, no matter how much it sucks.
“Hi, Grant.” Lexi smiles and hands me a towel when I step into the Pilates studio. It’s our strength training day, and Coach sent us offsite for our workout. “Excited for our girls’ night tonight?”
“I have to get through this workout first. I’m stressed about chest expansions.” I drop the towel on a machine in the corner and scoop up my water bottle. “It’s a torture chamber in here.”
“Look at you knowing your moves! I’m so proud.” She grins and waves to Piper and Liam who enter the studio. “Take a few minutes to focus on your breathing and get centered before we start.”
The rest of the team files into the building and picks out spots. Ethan shows up in a bright pink workout set that Liam scowls at for a good three minutes.
“That is offensive, Richardson,” he says.
“To who?” Ethan asks.
“Everyone with eyes.”
“Listen up,” Lexi says through her microphone. “Today I want you all to focus on keeping a neutral spine and correct pelvic alignment. No, Ethan, you can’t make a joke about that.”
“Dammit,” he grumbles. “She’s too quick.”
“Pelvic alignment is going to help with any tight hips you all might be experiencing. We have about three weeks left in the postseason if we make it to the Stanley Cup final, and keeping your bodies limber and loose is going to be crucial to how you perform on the ice. So are those stretches you all should be doing on your off days.”
Lexi is a league-leading athletic trainer for a reason, and keeping our roster healthy for two full seasons is a testament to that. She knows what she’s doing, and if she asks you to spend twenty minutes a day stretching your hip flexors and quads, you do it for the sake of the Cup.
“Ready?” She beams, fixes her ponytail, and puts her hands on her hips. “Let’s get started.”
Twenty-five minutes later, I’m drenched in sweat.
“I thought today was supposed to be easy,” I pant. “What the fuck was up with those knee folds?”
“My abs are killing me.” Riley drapes a towel over his face. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and his glasses dangle from his hand. “And what the hell is a transversus abdominis?”
“I have a family,” Ethan wails. “An imaginary family fifteen years down the road who might never meet me because everything hurts and I’m not going to survive the next thirty minutes.”
“You all complain too much.” Hudson dabs at his face before reaching over to give Madeline, who hasn’t broken a sweat, a kiss on her head. They’re dating now, and another one bites the dust. “You need to regulate your breathing.”
“Shut up, Hayes.” Liam leans over his machine and glares across the room. “We don’t need your blond boy positive energy when we’re in the depths of hell.”
“How does it feel to have your ass kicked by women?” Emmy pats Maverick’s shoulder and hands him a water bottle. “Piper is half your size, and she’s mopping the floor with you.”
“Thanks for the support, Em,” Piper says.
“I, for one, am all about female empowerment,” I start, laughing when a T-shirt gets chucked at me. “The more you all kick our asses, the better. The revolution will start with the women.”
“Such a suck-up.” Ethan flips me off and lies on his back. “Is this why you’re invited to girls’ night tonight? Because you’re a kiss-ass?”
“Everyone quiet down.” Maverick wipes his face and groans. “We’re not arguing over who has the best Pilates moves. Thirty more minutes, and we’re finished. That’s all we get. You need to lock in, remember why the hell we’re putting ourselves through this workout, and give it your all.”
“He gets married and turns into some war general spreading the good news.” Ethan sighs and peels himself off the Reformer. “Fine. Thirty minutes. That’s shorter than the amount of time I can fu—”
“Back on your machines,” Lexi calls out, clapping twice. “We’re starting with Hundreds.”
It takes every ounce of willpower to drag myself out of the studio. Riley walks next to me, staggering to his left while rubbing his ass cheek.
“That was unpleasant,” he says.
“Maybe this is all part of Coach’s plan,” I say. “He wants us to suffer when we’re off the ice so when we have our skates back on, the drills he puts us through seem less pulverizing. That man is a goddamn masochist.”
“I think we’re the masochists. We’re the ones who keep showing up. Want to grab a smoothie?”
“I could really go for a slice of cake, but antioxidants are probably better for us.” I sigh. “Damn the athlete lifestyle.”
We order drinks at a nearby café. After a quick photo with the teenager behind the counter and signing our names on a napkin, we find a table outside in the sun.
“To three more weeks of the season.” Riley knocks his smoothie against mine. “And the Cup we’ll hopefully get to lift again.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” I take a gulp of the berry and banana drink. “We should all do a trip this summer. Rent a house, go somewhere fun.”
“I’d be down. It’s going to be hard to convince Mav, Sully, and Hud to join, but I bet Connor and Ethan would come.”
“It’s weird. I know the locker room is the same. Our roster hasn’t been touched in two? three seasons? But things feel different. I can’t really explain it.”
“I know what you mean. Those three are moving on to different parts of their lives. There are less video game nights. Less trips. Team dinner has more people than ever around the table, and when we have a day off, they spend it with their other halves.”
“Do you ever think you’re doing something wrong?” I swirl my straw around, pausing. “Like you might get left behind because everyone is moving so fast?”
“No.” Riley looks at me. “But that’s because I know those guys. We might go to the bar less and not have as many nights out together, but if I needed one of them, they’d drop everything to be there for me.”
“They would. I would too.”
“And I’d do the same for you.”
“It’s going to be weird when they retire. Even weirder if they start having kids. Can you picture Maverick as a dad?”
“Strangely enough, I can.” He laughs. “We have a few more years before they head out of the league, so we should enjoy it while we can. Is that what’s got you down lately? You’re worried about the future?”
“No. I’m going through a breakup with a friend, and it makes me wonder if one day we’ll all go through that with each other,” I admit.
“No way. We’re brothers. We’re bound for life. Soulmates, I think. In the way friends can be soulmates.”
“I’d find you in every lifetime, Mitchy,” I tease.
He nudges his smoothie aside, eyes serious. “Back to the friend breakup thing. I’m sorry, G. That can’t be fun.”
“It’s not, but it’s part of life, I guess.” I shrug. “Circumstances change. People want different things. I have to respect that, even if it hurts.”
“This sounds a lot deeper than losing a friend.”
“Maybe it was.”
“If you ever want to talk about anything, I’m all ears.”
“I appreciate that, Mitchy. But this is something I have to figure out on my own.” I sip my smoothie, contemplating. “Just so you know, you’re absolutely going to be the next person they invite to girls’ night.”
“Thanks, Grant.” He laughs. “Don’t tell the other guys, but I figured I was the easy choice.”
I knock on Piper and Liam’s door later that night and blink when my goalie stands in front of me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I live here, Everett,” he draws out. “You’re spending the evening with my wife, remember?”
“Don’t say it like that.” My cheeks heat. “You’re making it sound scandalous.”
“Don’t be such a prude.” He moves to the side, an invitation to come in. “I was just leaving.”
“Where do you go on these nights?” I ask, stepping into the foyer.
“That’s private information.”
“Right. Of course.” I bob my head. “Sorry for prying.”
“If this interrogation is finished, I’m leaving,” he says.
“Have fun wherever it is you’re off to.”
“Painting.” Liam puts a hand on the door knob, glancing at me. “I go to art classes on the nights Piper is busy. The sports psychologist said it would be a good outlet for my general irritation with life. It sucks that it’s working.”
“You—what?” The sharp glare he’s tossing my way tells me he’s serious, and I hold back a laugh. “That is very cool, Goalie Daddy.”
“Thanks.” His mouth twitches with the makings of a smile. “Behave around my wife. There are hidden cameras in the living room, and I’ll know if you do something stupid.”
“Wait!” I call out. “There aren’t really cameras, right?”
“Guess you’ll find out, Everett.”
The door slams, and I head down the hall with a bottle of Chardonnay tucked against my side. There’s laughter coming from the living room, and I follow the noise until I find four women sprawled out on the couch and recliners.
“I come bearing wine,” I announce, and they all cheer.
“Grant!” Piper jumps up and hurries my way, giving me a quick hug. “The pizza just got here. Come grab a slice.”
“Sorry I’m late. Someone’s Pilates class made it difficult to get out of the shower.” I lift an eyebrow at Lexi. “What did I miss?”
“We’re talking about the hottest player in each professional league,” Emmy says.
“Who did you decide on?” I ask.
“I’m kidding. We’re talking about how we’re going to take down the patriarchy.” Her smirk is too ambiguous for me to tell which part is true. “We’re starting with the fast fashion industry, then we’ll move on to education reform.”