Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
OLD WOUNDS, NEW WOUNDS
TULLY
I rub my eyes. It’s mid-morning, and I’ve been out on the ice for hours already, but the lights still feel too bright.
I’m waiting for the whistle. Coach Harlan Jossey—Harl typically, The General when he’s pissed—stands at center ice in his black tracksuit, clipboard in hand, and barks line combos like we’re still figuring out how to skate.
I’m not figuring out shit today. My edges feel dull, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to aim.
I’m half a second late on every play and just generally looking like a fucking idiot out here.
I’m the captain. I’m supposed to be the one setting the tone, not the guy who may as well be skating through mud.
“Tully! Head in the game!” Harl’s voice cracks across the ice.
I nod once, sharp. “Yeah, Coach.”
Finn Stark skates up beside me during a line change. “Cap, you good? You look like shit.”
“I appreciate that. I’m fine,” I mutter, tapping my stick on the ice.
Behind us, Knox “The Wall” Bend, our six-foot-seven defenseman, snorts. “Not so sure about that.”
“I’m sure…that he’s not.” Silas Kane, our resident shit-stirrer, glides past with a grin.
“Fuck off, Kane,” I say, but there’s no heat in it.
“You sure you’re all right?” Roman Rivera slides into place next to me.
I growl, and Rivera, one of my best friends, knows when to back off.
Harl blows the whistle for the next drill.
I push hard, but when I make a pass, the puck hits the post again.
Clang. I curse under my breath. Practice drags.
By the time we hit cooldown laps, my legs are burning, and my head’s worse.
Harl waits by the bench as we file off. My hair is plastered to my skull when I remove my helmet.
“Tully.” He jerks his chin toward the tunnel. “A word.”
“What’s going on?” he asks a minute later, voice low, no bullshit. “What’s got you so off? You’ve been a mess since we started practice. You gonna be good by the time we play our preseason game?”
“I’m fine, Coach. I’ll be ready.”
He exhales through his nose. He’s been around me long enough to know when I’m not.
“Okay. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. You tell me if you need a day. I want you operating at full capacity, and right now, you’re skating like a drunk toddler. I need you on your game. Are we clear?”
“Clear.”
He claps my shoulder once, then heads back to the ice. I lean against the wall for a second, eyes closed, and then make my way to the locker room. I remove my gear in a fog, and by the time I come out of the shower and pick up my phone, it’s blown up.
“Operation Get Him Laid” cannot be put off any longer. I’ve given the bare minimum, which is I’m fine. Didn’t go as I’d hoped, or something along those lines. It did not satisfy the girls.
Goldie messaged me privately, but I haven’t even given her much more than Things aren’t great.
I keep promising to call and catch her up, but now that I’ve started training, I’m using that excuse.
Goldie
Tully, where the fuck are you?
I guess she’s sick of being put off.
Ava
It’s like we’re being ghosted by our brother, Golds. I feel like it’s too soon in our relationship for you to do that to me, Tully. Lol
Erin
DETAILS OR WE RIOT.
Ava
Did Operation Get Him Laid fail spectacularly or what?
Erin names the thread “Operation Come the Fuck Back, TULLY.”
Goldie
Tully, answer or I’m calling Dad!
I scroll past. No energy for that circus right now. Not to mention, the family thread is also on my back.
Dad
Proof of life. That goes for everyone, but especially you, Tully. Not used to you being quiet. How’s training going?
Camden
Just had the best croissant made by this beauty right here.
Dylan
Took an obnoxious guest fishing this morning, but we caught this, so life is good.
Goldie
This is my raging face because Tully won’t answer my texts. He’s alive. I can feel it in my twin bones.
Noah
If I can text, so can you, Tully.
I stare at the screen. My thumb hovers. Finally, I snap one of the empty ice from the tunnel door.
Hey, drama queens. I’m alive.
The replies come fast.
Goldie
That’s not proof of life, that’s proof of depression
Dad
Tully. Face. Now.
Noah
Ice pic? Really?
Camden
Bro, do I have to make a trip over there to shake you? Don’t make me do it.
Dylan
The ice of sadness
Goldie
Consider this your warning that I’m coming to see you
I shove the phone in my bag. The locker room’s emptied out. I sit on the bench with my elbows on my knees and my head down.
I just don’t have the energy for…anything.
I pull my phone back out and text Goldie, though, because I know she’ll be showing up on my doorstep if I don’t.
Sorry to be so quiet. I’m okay. Working through shit. I’ll come home for a few hours on Sunday, but otherwise, I’m crammed.
Goldie
OMG, I’m so relieved to hear from you. I’ve been worried! Is it Lola? Come on, tell me. You’re freaking me out. What happened with her?!
I can’t talk about it right now, okay? I just can’t fucking talk about it. I’ll be home Sunday, but in the meantime, can you get everyone off my fucking back? I need some space to breathe here.
Goldie
This doesn’t reassure me that I shouldn’t show up on your doorstep. At all.
I’m exhausted and I need sleep desperately. I love you with all my heart, but please don’t come.
She FaceTimes. I sigh but answer.
“See? I’m alive and well.” I do a shot of my nose, and she huffs into the phone.
“Okay, it actually does make me feel better to see your snotty nose,” she says.
I do a nose check. “I do not have a snotty nose.”
“Made you look,” she says, laughing. She sobers up quickly. “You promise you’re okay?”
“No. But I asked for this, right? I knew the risk involved with Lola, and I went for it anyway.”
“She didn’t…want anything romantically?” she asks carefully.
“Oh, she did. She wanted to fuck me all night and then fuck me over.”
Goldie’s mouth drops open. “No, she did not.”
I run my hand over my face, hating that I even said that much about Lola.
I’m so fucking upset with her, but I don’t talk shit about her.
Ever. Because even if she sends me to hell and back, I know she’s not a bad person.
I’ve always felt like I’m missing something with her. Things just don’t add up.
She looks at me as if I’m her whole world, and then walks away from me.
Either I’m missing something, or she’s the world’s best actor, and I just keep wanting to watch the same show over and over.
“I’ll be okay,” I say finally. I try to muster a smile. “I always am, right?”
Her eyes are glassy, and she bites her bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. “I’m so sorry, Tully. I can’t describe how much I hate this. I want to crush her into the dirt.”
My eyes go wide. “Golds. That’s a little harsh.”
“Oh, I go scorched earth for the ones I love. You know that. And she has messed with you one too many times.”
“She’s not a bad person. She’s really not. If you saw the sadness in her eyes, you’d—” I shake my head, unable to go on.
“Even now, you defend her.”
I hear footsteps, and Knox sticks his head in the doorway.
“Hey, there you are,” he says. “Oh, sorry, man.”
“I gotta go, Golds. Love you.”
“I love you. Don’t go silent,” she demands.
“I won’t.”
We hang up, and I look at Knox.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says.
“No worries. Just talking to my sister.”
“A bunch of us are going for a quick drink. Come with us. You look like you could use one.”
“Not tonight, man. I’m exhausted.”
“I insist. Come on. We won’t stay long. I won’t take no for an answer.”
I scowl. “What’s your deal?”
“We’ve gotta do something to shake you up. Can’t have another day of you moping and playing like shit.”
I groan. “Fine. I’m not drinking alcohol, though. You think I’m playing like shit now…”
He grins. “That’s fair. We’ll mocktail your ass, get you feeling perky in no time.”
I roll my eyes and stand, grabbing my bag and key fob. “Fucking weirdo.”
The Lantern’s packed. I head to the back-corner table, our usual spot. The guys cheer when I walk up. Roman motions to the empty seat next to him.
Knox flags down the server with a grin that could charm paint off walls. “For Cap here”—he jerks a thumb at me—“can we get a virgin mojito? Extra mint. Make it look like a real drink so he doesn’t embarrass us.”
The table erupts. Silas leans back, arms crossed, smirking. “Mocktail? Sounds about right after today.”
Finn snorts into his beer and then looks at me apologetically.
I roll my eyes, but when the server slides the tall glass in front of me—green, fizzy, and overly garnished—I drink it in one long swig, which makes them cheer again.
We’re chatting when the table goes quiet.
I look up to see a blonde in a tight dress, smiling confidently.
She slides right up to me, hip cocked, her eyes locked on me.
“Hey, Tully. Big fan. I was hoping you’d come in tonight.”
Normally, I’d smile and chat, keep it light. I’m not the player Silas or Knox are—never have been—but I’m not an asshole. Tonight, though?
“Here I am,” I say flatly.
She laughs and touches my arm. “You look like you could use some fun. Buy you a drink?”
“Nope.” I don’t even look at her. Just stare at the condensation on my glass.
She clears her throat. “Oh, okay…well, I’m over there if you change your mind.” She lingers for a second—I guess hoping her charm or her tight dress will change my mind.
They don’t.
She walks off, confused, heels clicking. The table goes dead silent for a beat.
Silas leans forward first. “What the actual fuck, Tully?”
Knox’s eyebrows are in his hairline. “Dude. You just iced her. Like, full-on rudeness. What is going on with you, man?”
Finn’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “That was…cold. Even when girls are throwing themselves at you, you at least smile.”
I exhale through my nose. “I’m not in the mood.”
“‘Not in the mood’?” Silas echoes. “That doesn’t mean you get to be a dick. You okay? For real.”
I stand up abruptly. “I need sleep. Good night.”
I grab my jacket and walk over to the girl. She’s at the bar now, talking to a friend and still glancing back like she’s half-expecting me to walk over.
“Hey,” I call.
She gives me a guarded look.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I say, low enough that the music swallows most of it. “That was shitty. You didn’t deserve that. I’m just…dealing with some stuff. Not your fault.”
She softens. “Yeah, well…apology accepted. I could make you feel better.” She lifts her shoulder coyly.
I smile. “I’m sure you could. I’m just not…in the best place.”
“Ahh, sounds like a broken heart.”
She rubs my arm when I grimace.
“I’m here often,” she says. “Come find me if you need someone to help you get to a better place.”
I step back, enough for her hand to drop. “Have a good night.”
She blows me a kiss.
I glance back at the table, where the guys are watching. “Night, assholes.”
Knox lifts his glass. “Get some sleep, Cap. Or therapy. Whichever comes first.”
Silas smirks. “Text us when you’re done brooding. We worry.”
Finn just lifts his hand, and the rest of the guys call out various insults with their goodbyes.
I push through the crowd, out into the cool Minnesota night, and walk to my car. Home is quiet and dark. I miss Kevin or Bill running to greet me. I wish that I had the time to take care of a dog or even a cat. I drop my bag by the door, kick off my shoes, and don’t bother with lights.
The bed feels too big. I’ve never thought that before. But I’d give anything for Lola to be all up in my space right now.
I’ve gotta get through this. Gotta stop thinking of her every second. Gotta move on.
But for one more night, I let myself feel it.
I let it hurt like hell and hope tomorrow will hurt a little less.