Brooks
A ll I see is red as I clomp down the hallway leading to the team garage in my full uniform. She promised no more lies, yet she left out one major fact about her life. The fact that I’m in love with my boss’ daughter.
Hayley is a Richards. Boyce was right, she wasn’t who I thought she was.
Now I know why she was so nervous of taking the risk to date me.
I’m her father’s employee. She’s the heir to the Skipjack legacy.
If things go south, it won’t just be bad PR for the team, but it could blacklist me altogether in the league.
Destroyed my entire career I worked for. My legacy.
Yet, I still love her despite the fact she lied to me.
You never really take the time to evaluate your life until something bad happens.
That’s what I did when Tiffany lied to me and broke me.
I chose after that moment to focus on nothing but my career, the legacy I would leave behind.
But it wasn’t until I met Hayley that I wondered when it was all said and done, who would I leave my legacy to. Who would I share that legacy with?
Hayley and Camden, that’s who.
I fucked up.
I know it. I was so pissed off about being ejected from the game, I didn’t give her a chance to explain.
I pace the hall a few more moments, tugging at the ends of my hair.
Turning, I clomp back to the locker room, hoping she’s still there.
I’ll give her the chance right now to explain like she asked, like I should have done from the start instead of overreacting.
Pulling open the locker room door, I’m hit with silence. I walk into the open space, nearing my locker, and shrink in disappointment. I walked out on her. What did I expect? To be sitting here waiting to talk to me with open arms?
A flat screen hanging in the corner shows the time winding down on the second period, the Skipjacks now trailing the Heat by two.
Yeah, we’re suffering because of me and my dumbass mistakes.
The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the second period.
I take a seat on the bench, resting my arms on my knees before dropping my head to my chest. I can’t look my team in the face right now.
Muffled voices echo through the closed locker room door before it’s thrown open, and the team filters in. I rub my hand along my stubbled jaw as Halloway takes a seat next to me. Patting me on the back, he asks if I’m okay. All I can do is release a grunt before being put on blast by Coach.
“Miller, fine example you made of yourself out there. Get showered and meet me in my office,” he says before turning to address the rest of the locker room.
I don’t argue. There’s no point. I’m the captain, and what I did was something a rookie would have done.
I pull my sweater over my head and remove my pads.
Forgoing the shower completely, I throw on a pair of basketball shorts and a Skipjacks tee before making my way to Coach’s office.
I raise my hand to knock but don’t even get the chance.
“Get your ass in here, Miller.” His tone firm, angry. No, not angry—he’s pissed. And I deserve every bit of his wrath he’s about to unleash on me.
I hang my head and open the door, walking to take a seat in front of Coach’s desk. I expected Mr. Richards to be here, or the GM, yet it’s just Coach and me. Coach’s scowl will most likely hurt tomorrow, but it’s warranted. I’m probably getting suspended and demoted from captain.
God, I fucked up worse than I did when Tiffany broke me.
“I know I fucked up,” I start to grovel, but Coach raises his hand to stop me.
“You’re not getting suspended. However, you are being fined for that little stunt you and Cameron pulled out on the ice.
Don’t worry, he’ll be facing his own set of fines,” he says, but I know there’s more to this little meeting.
Usually, it’s here’s your penalties, now get the fuck out of my office.
But not this time. No, this time, I can tell he has more to say.
You’re getting traded.
You’re being stripped of the captain title.
You’re being demoted to farm team.
All those possibilities run through my head, but nothing could prepare me for what he says next.
“So, I suppose you found out who Dr. Hayley Marshall really is.” The fuck?
He holds up his hand, silencing me again so he can continue.
“I bet you’re wondering how I knew that, weren’t ya?
Well, I’ve worked for the Skipjacks and Wade Richards for a long time.
In fact, Wade happens to be one of my best friends, which makes a whole lot of sense being that I’m also Hayley’s godfather. ”
Shit. This isn’t about the game; it’s a lynching for hurting Hayley.
“Sir…”
“I’m not finished, Miller,” he says, standing and making his way to the front of the desk.
“See, not many people know who Hayley really is. Only the staff who have worked for the Skipjacks before she was born know who she is. Not even the media know who she is, and there’s a reason for that, but that’s not my story to tell.
But what I will tell you is that Hayley would never deliberately lie to anyone or put someone’s career on the line.
I know she withheld information from you. ”
“Yeah, kind of a big deal to make up a fake last name and deceive everyone,” I say in a sarcastic tone.
He takes a seat in the chair next to me. “You’re missing the point. And for the record, Marshall is her mother’s maiden name. Not made up. What would you do to protect the ones you love?”
Well, that’s a loaded question, isn’t it? I would do anything to protect Sydney and Everleigh, even Hayley and Camden. Is he insinuating that Hayley lied because her family was in some kind of trouble?
“Before you ask, the Richards are not in any type of trouble. Point is, if you answered the last question I asked you and included Hayley and Camden in your answer, then the point is you need to fix it. Hear her out.”
That’s what I was planning on doing before she left without letting me apologize for my outburst. Now I doubt she’ll see me.
“How?” I ask him as if he now holds all the answers.
He stands from his chair, making his way to the door. “You’ll figure it out. Now get to the shower and into the team suite. You’re expected to be watching the last of the game so we can prepare for Game 7 if we can’t pull our head out of our asses tonight.”
Just as quick as the conversation started, he leaves. Leaving me with more questions than answers, but I get his point. I had my head in my ass.
Guess it’s time to pull it out.
I walk into the team booth with no expectations.
I glance down at the team bench, trying to catch a glimpse of Hayley, but she’s not there.
Disappointment fills me, knowing that I’m the reason she’s gone.
Looking at the rows of seats, I see Cassidy sitting alone, messing with her iPad.
Like a man on a mission, I take a seat next to her, startling her as I clear my throat.
“Where is she, Cass?” My tone comes out more demanding than I intended.
She slinks back, giving me a look, asking if I’m serious. I know she knows what happened, so I’m ready for what she has to say. “And what makes you think I’ll tell you where she went? You’ve done a knockout job at breaking her already fragile heart, again might I add.”
God, I really am an ass.
The idea of Hayley sitting at home heartbroken, rather than here in my arms, where she should be truly guts me. I know I have a lot of groveling to do, and you better believe I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to be with her and Camden again.
“Please,” I say in a softer tone, shrinking just a little. “I know I fucked up. I reacted like a caveman when Boyce started his taunts, then a prick when I found out who she really is.”
She eyes me suspiciously, a small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Okay. I’ll help you, but I don’t know what you expect me to do. She told me she’s done, with the Skipjacks, Seattle, everything. I’m supposed to have her back on this.”
“Seriously?”
“What, she’s been my best friend since pre-k. Sandbox love never dies. Not even for Brooks Miller,” she says, turning her focus back to the game.
I watch play on the ice unfold as I think of how to get Hayley to talk to me.
It shouldn’t be rocket science. I should just show up at her house and force her to talk to me.
But that could only cause more drama, come to think of it.
I need something big. A grand gesture to show her I’m here to listen, and I’m done running away.
I need her and Camden, like fries need ketchup. Yeah, I know I’m cheesy, but it’s true. Time has proved again and again.
The game clock ticks down, the Skipjacks scrambling to score two more goals to tie the game, yet it looks like we’ll be short.
With twenty seconds left on the game clock, I know we’ll be heading to Arizona for the last final game of the season, which means I need to think of something and fast to get my head back in the game.
“Convince her to come to Arizona for the finals,” I say in a pleading tone.
“I don’t know if she’ll go for that, Brooks. She was pretty adamant,” she says, standing to pack her belongings as the buzzer signals the end of the game.
I look down at the ice and watch the guys skate off with their heads hanging low as the Heat celebrate on the visiting bench. God, we need to pull through in two days and end this once and for all. The Skipjacks are the better team, with chemistry that’s off the charts. Kind of like Hayley and me.
“What am I supposed to say to convince her to come? I can’t just say, ’Hey, Brooks wants to talk to you. You should hear him out.’ That goes against sandbox love,” she says, swinging her bag over her shoulder.
She starts to walk to the exit of the suit when I grab onto her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. “Tell her it’s for the team. For her father. For your wedding. I don’t know. Just nothing to do with me. I’ll handle those logistics once we’ve landed.”
Cassidy lets out a deep breath, opening and closing her mouth a few times before speaking again. “Okay. But you better grovel, and I mean I better hear that you were on your knees, groveling at her feet. This goes against all sandbox love logic, so you owe me big time.”
I pull Cassidy in for a bear hug, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, thanking her. Now I have to get my shit together. I have two days once we land to devise a plan. One that involves a lot of groveling apparently.