Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
DECLAN
I’m stuffing my face with a cheeseburger when my phone vibrates on the table like an alarm warning me not to eat the greasy meal.
I glance at the screen and see it’s my father.
Dammit.
How did I go from barely speaking to him for months to him being in my business every damn day?
I miss estrangement.
"Hey, Dad."
"The invitation came." There was no hello. No small talk. Just straight to business. "Dev camp. Two weeks in December, over winter break. They want you and Reid."
My stomach drops. "December?"
"Problem?"
"That's finals."
"So take them early. Talk to your professors. This is more important than some college exams, Declan."
I close my eyes, trying to keep my voice level. "Those exams are important to me."
"More important than your NHL career? Stop making excuses.”
Only my father would be telling me to skip finals.
"I'm not making excuses. I'm trying to be responsible."
“Being responsible is taking steps toward your future.”
"I'll think about it."
"You'll think about it?" His voice rises. "Declan, this isn't optional. You're going to that camp."
"I said I'll think about it."
I could practically hear his teeth grinding, and that made me smile.
“They need confirmation by next week."
"Got it."
"I'm taking Reid to dinner on Thursday. My official pitch to represent him. You should come."
"I can't. I have plans."
"I'm not asking, Declan. Be there. Seven o'clock. The steakhouse downtown." He pauses. "And figure out your answer about dev camp. We need to move forward."
He hangs up before I can respond.
I sit there staring at my phone, my food forgotten.
I find Ashton after practice, in the locker room, pulling off his gear.
"My dad called."
He looks up, and I can see the hope in his eyes. "Yeah?"
"Dev camp invitation came. December. Two weeks over winter break."
"Holy shit." A grin splits his face. "We're doing this. We're actually doing this."
"I told him I'd think about it."
The grin fades. "What's there to think about?"
"Finals. I have a class that does the final on the last day of the semester."
"So we take them early. Talk to our professors. This is the NHL, man. They'll understand. They know who we are. We’ve rarely cashed in our Hockey God cards. This is the time."
I sit down on the bench. "You know I hate that shit.”
“You didn’t hate it during freshman year when we wanted to go to that concert in New York. You didn’t hate it last year when we decided to leave on our Cabo trip a few days early.”
He’s right. I haven’t given my studies the attention I’m claiming.
“The degree is just insurance,” he says.
"I actually want the degree. I want to coach someday. I want options beyond just playing until my body gives out."
"You can still coach, but you can't play in the NHL forever. This is your window—and it’s narrow, very tiny. Your big ass might not even squeeze through."
"I know."
"This is about Sutton, isn't it?"
I don't answer, but I don't need to.
"Man." Ashton sits down beside me. "I get it. I do. But if you two truly love each other, it’ll work out. You have to at least check it out. If you don’t like it, you don’t do it.”
“I know,” I say. “I’m going to think about it. I want to talk to Sutton.”
“You know this is big, right?” His huge smile makes me feel like an asshole. This is huge. I want him to get the dream. I need to be happy for him.
"My dad's taking you to dinner Thursday," I say. "His official pitch."
"Yeah, he texted me." Ashton's excitement is back. "I'm bringing my parents. They want to hear what he has to say."
"He's good at what he does. He'll sell you on the whole package."
"You don't sound happy about it."
"I am. I'm happy for you." And I mean it. Ashton deserves this. He's worked just as hard as I have. "I'm just—"
"Conflicted."
"Yeah."
"Look, we've got seven weeks before December. That's plenty of time. You don't have to decide right now." He pats my shoulder. "But think about it seriously, okay? This isn't just about you. It's about us. The team. Everything we've built."
"I know."
"Do you? Because it seems like you're looking for reasons to say no."
Maybe I am.
Maybe I'm self-sabotaging again, just like sophomore year when I got "injured."
Or maybe I'm finally figuring out what I actually want.
By the time I get home that evening, the house is already loud with music and voices. Holden decided to throw a "small party," which in Holden’s language meant he invited half the campus.
I find Sutton in the kitchen with Keira, both of them making drinks.
"Hey." I come up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "How was your day?"
She relaxes into me. "Fine. Yours?"
"Long." I press a kiss to her neck. "Want to hide upstairs with me?"
"Can't. Keira made me promise to actually socialize tonight." She turns in my arms. "But later?"
"Later."
She kisses me, and for a moment, everything else fades.
It's just us—me and my rock.
"Get a room!" Crew shouts, walking past with a beer.
Sutton laughs and pulls away. "Go mingle. I'll find you later."
The party gets louder. More people arrive. The living room becomes a dance floor, and someone sets up beer pong in the kitchen.
I'm talking with Pierce when I feel someone pressed against my side.
Bree.
"Hey, Declan." Her words are slightly slurred. She's drunk. "Having fun?"
"Sure." I try to step away, but she follows.
"Want to dance?"
"I'm good."
"Come on. Just one dance." Her hand lands on my chest. "For old times' sake."
"We don't have old times, Bree."
"Don't be like that." She pouts. "We used to be friends."
"No, we didn't."
Pierce catches my eye and makes a face like, Good luck with that, before disappearing into the crowd. Traitor.
"I need to find Sutton," I say, trying again to move away.
But Bree blocks my path, pressing closer. "She's busy with Keira. Stay and talk to me."
"No thanks."
"You know, I get it." Her voice drops, intimate. "Wanting something you can't have. It's torture, isn't it?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Seattle." She looks up at me through her lashes. "You want to go. But you're stuck here because of her."
My jaw clenches.
"It's okay to admit it. I won't tell." Her hand slides up my chest to my shoulder. "Must be so hard, having to choose between your dream and your girlfriend."
"I'm not having this conversation with you."
"Why not? I'm the only one being honest with you." She leans in, her lips close to my ear. "Everyone else is pretending you can have both. But we both know that's a lie."
I grab her wrist, removing her hand from my shoulder. "Back off."
"I'm just trying to help."
"You're trying to cause problems. It's not going to work."
She rises on her toes, her mouth moving toward mine.
I push her away. She stumbles back with that vicious smile on her lips.
"Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. Stay away from Sutton and me."
She laughs, but her eyes are ice cold. "Oh my god, I was just joking. Can't you take a joke?"
"That wasn't a joke."
"I'm drunk. I was being stupid. Don't make such a big deal out of it."
But I can see the calculation behind her eyes. This wasn't about being drunk. This was deliberate.
She wanted someone to see. Wanted to create drama.
"Stay away from us," I say again.
"Or what?" She smirks.
"Declan?"
I turn to find Holden standing there.
Shit.
He looks between Bree and me. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" Bree moves to him, all smiles. "Declan and I were just talking."
"That's not what it looked like."
"Babe, come on. You know I was just joking around."
"Were you?" He's still looking at me. "Declan?"
I could let it go. Could say it was nothing. Keep the peace.
But I'm done dealing with his pain-in-the-ass girlfriend who seems hellbent on destroying my relationship.
"She tried to kiss me."
Bree gasps. "I did not!”
"You've been inappropriate multiple times," I continue, ignoring her. “She's doing it on purpose, Holden. She's trying to cause problems between Sutton and me."
"That's insane!" Bree's eyes are wide with fake shock. "Why would I do that?"
"I asked you point-blank if you were over him,” Holden says.
“I am. I’m with you, baby. Only you.”
I want to gag.
Holden grabs her arm. “I’ll talk to her. Sorry for the drama.”
“Good luck.”
Bree is all drama. It’s her baseline. Holden has no idea what that chick is going to do to him.
I feel sorry for the guy.