GRANT
EIGHTY-SIX
Puck Kings
Mitchy
Connor
Nothing. Nothing on social media either.
Easy E
It’s been hours, dude. Can you tell us if you’re alive?
Huddy Boy
Can confirm he’s alive. He was at practice this morning.
Mitchy
I’m glad you’re in Italy with him, Huddy.
Easy E
What should we do?
Connor
Should we keep messaging him?
Mitchy
After my accident, your texts pissed me off, but the constant messages also reminded me I wasn’t alone.
Easy E
Well, fuck. Now I’m crying.
No one is ever alone.
Mavvy
Nevertheless, we persist with the texts.
Connor
We love you, G-Money.
Mitchy
And we’re here whenever you want to talk. We’re on your side.
It’s been three days since the news about my relationship with Amelia broke.
I haven’t slept. I’ve barely consumed any food, and water has been an afterthought. I’ve been tempted to drown my sorrows in a handle of whiskey, but that would require interacting with people, and I don’t have the energy to do anything besides go to practice.
Reporters from every sports outlet have attempted to get me to talk during the hockey media slots, and I’ve successfully avoided them—and every call and message from my agent and the Stars organization—so far.
My Olympic teammates have attempted to cheer me up in the locker room, but I don’t give them any attention.
When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. My skin is dry and pale. My eyes are puffy. Getting out of bed is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and I gave up on wearing contacts two mornings ago.
Coach is nice enough not to call me out for my sloppy skating, and when I make it back to my hotel room after another practice where the walls felt like they were caving in, I sit on the couch and flip through the notebook that houses everything I love about Amelia.
The pages are full of memories I don’t want to forget. Every detail of our relationship is laid out from the very first night I met her. Reading all the notes back, it’s so obvious how long I’ve been in love with her.
From the very beginning, I’m pretty sure.
I slam the notebook closed and press my palms into my eyes.
Three days without talking to her.
Three days of struggling to breathe.
Three days without checking social media.
Three days where I wonder what the hell comes next for us.
I guess it could be worse.
I could be staying in the Athlete’s Village and sleeping on a shitty cot with a bowl full of condoms in my face.
At least I can cry my eyes out in the privacy of my five-star hotel room.
The loud banging on my door feels like it’s coming from a different realm. I hear it, but I don’t register it. Why bother when it’s probably Coach coming to tell me I’ve been booted off the roster due to my shitty effort at practice the last few days?
But as I trudge to the door in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that has a rip in the armpit, hope flickers inside me.
Amelia.
Maybe it’s Amelia.
That makes me pick up my step, and I stumble as I cross the room. There are hushed voices on the other side of the door. A sharp groan is followed by a string of curse words. I glance through the peephole, shock rippling through me when I see Maverick standing in the hall.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I fling the door open.
“You showed up when we needed you, and now you need us,” he says. “Hope it’s okay that I brought reinforcements.”
Maverick steps to the side, and that’s when I realize Ethan and Connor are next to him. Hudson and Riley are behind them, and when they all shift to their left, the sight of Liam at the end of the hall makes me burst into tears.
“Fuck,” I sob, motioning them into my room. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“You didn’t answer our messages, and we wanted to see you.” Riley hugs me. “Thought you might need some cheering up.”
“I just spent eight hours on a plane from DC sitting in coach,” Liam grumbles, pushing past me. “There’s not many people I’d do that for, Everett.”
They get to work rearranging the furniture to make room for everyone. The coffee table and chair are pulled over to the couch so they all have somewhere to sit. Someone passes me a water bottle. Maverick puts a hand on my shoulder to lower me to the sofa, and they all surround me.
“How are you doing?” Ethan asks.
“Not great.” I set the water down and bury my face in my hands.
“I’m hurt. I’m mad. I can’t believe people were taking pictures of us and sharing them for the world to see.
But you know what makes me furious?” I lower my hands and stare at my friends.
“We’re only in this situation because of who Amelia is.
If she were an intern or a social media manager or anyone other than a fucking coach, it wouldn’t be a big deal.
Look at you all.” I point to Riley and Liam.
“Your significant others work on the same goddamn team as you, and you haven’t gotten any backlash from the league. How does that make sense?”
“I asked Lexi if we were allowed to date when we first started seeing each other because that was my concern too. I’m not technically on DC’s roster, so she’s not violating her athletic trainer code of ethics. I’m not saying it’s fair,” Riley says when I scowl at him. “It’s definitely a gray area.”
“Let’s talk about your situation, Grant. What can we do to help?” Hudson asks.
“Nothing. I’m in the depths of hell, and nothing will make me feel better. The only thing that would work is being able to see Amelia, and I can’t even do that. I can’t tell her how much I love her. I can’t be seen with her, and it’s all my fault.”
“Stop.” Maverick sighs and pats my thigh. “This isn’t your fault, and you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re allowed to love and be attracted to whoever you want.”
“Tell that to the league. There’s an email from the commissioner in my inbox I haven’t answered.
He’s asking for a meeting when I get back to DC.
” I sigh and rub my forehead. “We tried so hard to be discreet. We tried so hard to keep our relationship a secret. We’ve been safe for two fucking years, and now it’s all gone to shit.
I bet it was one of our neighbors who took some of those photos.
I knew I should’ve looked at houses that had privacy walls. ”
“Hang on.” Ethan scoots forward in his chair. “You’ve been dating Amelia Green for two years? And none of us knew? What the fuck? What happened to sharing everything with each other?”
“I knew,” Maverick says proudly. “I knew, and I kept my mouth shut just like I did when Liam told me he and Piper were married. I’m a goddamn vault, and I’d never crack in an interrogation.”
“Now I’m jealous.” Connor crosses his arms. “Why did Maverick get to know?”
“He found out by accident. I wanted to tell you all, but we were afraid of the repercussions. I didn’t think it would be bad if word got out Amelia and I were dating, but clearly, I was wrong.” I groan. “So much for being an optimist.”
“Can we go back to the house part?” Riley grins. “Are the two of you living together?”
“Yeah,” I mumble. There’s no point keeping any secrets now.
Might as well let it all out. “I bought a house for us in the suburbs. It’s halfway between our apartments, and it’s the cutest place.
Don’t know if Amelia will ever step foot in it again though,” I say.
“She asked for space, and I’m not sure how long that’s supposed to last.”
“Should we talk about what you’re going to do next?” Maverick asks, and I nod. “What exactly did she say when you last talked?”
“You mean three days, four hours, and eight minutes ago? She told me I’ll be labeled a hero while she gets the brunt of the hate from this situation.
And she’s right—people are calling her a slut.
They’re wondering if she’s sleeping with more guys in the league.
” I hang my head. “Coach said he expects her to get fired, but I’m hoping it doesn’t go that far.
I wish there was a way for her to keep coaching and keep me in her life. ”
“Why not quit?” Liam asks, and we all turn to look at him. “As long as you’re in the league, the two of you won’t be allowed to be involved. You need to decide what’s more important: continuing to play, or your relationship.”
“Damn,” Ethan whispers. “I love when Goalie Daddy gives good advice.”
I mull over Liam’s words.
Could I give up the sport I love?
Could I walk away from my brothers?
Do I even want to?
I close my eyes and envision myself ten years down the road. What does that look like? Who am I with? Do I have a couple more Stanley Cup championships? Are the ones that I won good enough because now I’m settled with the love of my life while she has her time to shine?
“I’d feel like I was letting you all down if I stopped playing,” I say.
“Why?” Maverick asks. “I’m retired. Riley is going between the AHL team and coaching the Stars.
Sully has a season left in him—maybe—and that’s assuming he doesn’t skate off the ice one night because he’s done with you all.
Huddy Boy will probably play for ten more years because he’s Superman.
But you, Ethan, and Connor are the veterans now.
You’d never let us down by putting yourself first.”
“You’re part of the coaching staff.” I glance at Riley. “Have you heard anything about what kind of punishment I’m going to have?”
“No. And that’s the truth.” He pauses. “Amelia is looking at a suspension at the very least. A contract termination wouldn’t be surprising.”
“I don’t get it. She didn’t break a bylaw,” I say. “Not a goddamn article in the CBA mentions fraternization between players and coaches. I made sure to check so I’d have references ready to go.”
“There’s no article because it hasn’t happened before,” Ethan says, and I snort.
“That you’re aware of. You’re telling me no man who’s played in this league has ever had a relationship with another man? Bull-fucking-shit.”
“Hey, G.” Maverick picks a notebook off the coffee table. “Are you ever going to tell us what the hell is in this? You’ve carried it for years.”
“Oh my god. Please tell us.” Ethan sticks out his bottom lip. “I’m dying to know.”
“Amelia,” I mumble.
“I’m not following,” Mav says. “Amelia is in the notebook?”
“Everything about her is in the notebook. Her favorite foods. Her least favorite holiday—Arbor Day, by the way. She thinks trees should be appreciated all year. I’ve written down every important thing she’s ever told me.
” I put my elbows on my knees. My vision blurs at the edges, and I wonder if I should eat something.
That water would probably help too. “I carry them with me everywhere I go.”
“Holy shit.” Connor whistles. “You’re so down bad.”
“Totally lovesick.”
“World’s biggest romantic.”
“I wish we had my whiteboard, but I have an idea on how to fix your problems, G. Here’s what you’re going to do: You’re going to give Amelia the space she asked for.
You’re going to play your ass off in the gold medal game where we’ll be cheering for you,” Maverick says, rattling off a list. “When you get home, you and Amelia will talk. All will be well, and everyone will live happily ever after.”
“Man.” Ethan laughs. “You all make monogamy sound kind of fun.”
“This is not your moment, E. We’ll get to you soon.” Connor throws a pillow at him. “Maverick’s right. You can’t go after Amelia right now. You have to respect what she asked for.”
“There’s a lot on your plates,” Riley agrees. “The article and photos aside, you both have games you need to focus on. You need to play sharp so you don’t give the media another reason to go after you.”
“This is going to be really hard.” I flop back against the cushions. “But she’s worth the wait.”
“Glad we solved this problem. I’m getting on the next flight to DC.” Liam stands. “Who wants to split a cab to the airport?”
“You’re not seriously turning right around, are you?” I ask. “You just got here.”
“I did my part, and it’s time to get back to Piper.
I like her better than I like all of you.
” He heads for the door. “Oh. I told off a reporter outside the hotel when he asked if I knew how long you and Amelia have been sleeping together. Scared him off for at least a couple of days. Don’t bother adding me to the group chat until next Friday. I’m on a hiatus.”
Liam slams the door, and I actually smile.
“He acts like a grumpy motherfucker, but deep down, I think Liam might be the softest one out of all of us,” Ethan declares. “Flying all the way here so he could make sure you were okay? Telling someone off so they’d stop bothering you? I’d say he loves you, G.”
“Yeah.” I laugh for the first time in days. My brothers always have a way of making me feel better. “I guess he does.”