34. Dalton
THIRTY-FOUR
DALTON
HERE LIES DALTON. KILLED DUE TO HIS DUMBASS DECISIONS.
What the fuck did it mean if she sent a heart emoji?
How did I ask her to send me a picture of herself without sounding like a creep?
“Hey, Cap.” Jimenez snuck up beside me, jolting me out of the internal question I’d yet to come up with an answer for since the night before. “Woah. When did you become such a fan of sugar-free Red Bull? I don’t think I’ve seen you ever drink an energy drink in our entire ten years of friendship.”
I pulled my screen away from the nosy fucker, glaring at him over my shoulder. Instead of getting the silent message and minding his own damn business, his smile spread, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Fuck me. Here we go.
“But I do know of a ball-busting Mexicana who drinks those.” He slung an arm over my shoulder. “Cap, are you buying things for Ari?”
“She is my girlfriend,” I grumbled, grabbing my bag so we could make our way out to Betty .
He snorted. “I think you can afford something more than a can of Red Bull.” If only he’d seen the receipt for the dresser. “God, you’ve been out of the game that long? You’re supposed to get like some lingerie or something for your girlfriend. ”
I glared at him, but his shit-eating grin only grew as we made our way to my car, the others all still licking their wounds from practice in the locker room.
Monroe hadn’t let up one bit today. It was like he was on a mission to push us past our limits before preseason started Monday. I could still feel the sting from those relentless puck battles and backchecking drills. My legs were heavier, and my lungs were burning on the ice. Monroe wanted us sharp—hungry.
I glanced over at Jimenez, who was rolling his shoulders and muttering about needing an ice bath. The rookies had looked even worse, seconds away from collapsing. Still, I could feel the fire in the team, that drive simmering just below the surface.
Ari’s work with us allowed us to push harder at practice, and I could already see the edge it’d give us.
Jimenez’s voice broke me from my musing. “Look, I know you told me this thing with Ari is all fake, but man, you’ve got it down bad, my man. Anyone with eyes can see how you two…well, let’s just say I’m not getting whatever personal training she was giving you the other day. Plus you’re always staring at her amazing ass?—”
My chest rumbled. “Talk about her ass again, Jimenez, and you’ll be too damaged to play in the game.”
The second I looked up at him, I realized I’d played right into his hand .
He just laughed, but his expression and voice turned serious as we walked. “Look, you don’t have to say it, but it’s pretty clear this isn’t pretend anymore…not for you, at least.”
A heavy silence settled over us for a moment before I got the balls to say what I’d been thinking for days aloud. “Yeah,” I let out a humorless laugh, rubbing at the back of my neck. “I’m so fucking far gone for her, Christian, but I don’t know how the hell I go about convincing her to give me a real chance.” My chest tightened as the words finally came out. “She’s so independent. I don’t want to crowd her or make her think I don’t respect that…”
He nodded thoughtfully, the playboy persona everyone associated him with gone. The guy was surprisingly insightful with relationship advice. He just didn’t take any of his own. “Listen, a lot of women in Mexican culture have to fight extra hard to live life how they want. She’s likely grown up with the fear that a man might try to take that independent nature of hers away. I’d bet that’s why she’s so damn strong-willed. She always felt she had to be.”
His words made me pause.
“Show her that you love that about her. That you’re there to support her in whatever way she needs. That her hopes and dreams are important to you, and she doesn’t need to change them because all you want from her is to be in her corner.” He shrugged a shoulder as if he didn’t spout out some brilliant shit. “She probably thinks that being with you for real will mean she has to give up her ambitions for yours.”
I blanched at the insinuation. “I’d never want to diminish her like that. Why would I ask her to give up what she loves for me when she can have both?” I asked defensively, causing him to smile.
“And that’s what you need to show her,” he said. “It shouldn’t be too hard for you. You’re the opposite of controlling.”
I stopped mid-step, my heart stopping. “Shit.”
“Shit, what?” My best friend’s eyes widened when I didn’t move, clearly sensing a confession coming. “Dalton, what did you do?”
I threw my hands up. “She makes me crazy. She’s got me doing things?—”
“You ain’t never done before?”
“Focus.”
He smothered his smirk. “What did you do?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer before my phone went off. There was no need to look at the screen to know who it was. My stomach did the same stupid swoop it always did when it came to Ari. Even though this time I knew she was calling to chew my ass out.
“Hello?” I answered, trying to sound casual.
“What the hell, Thatcher?” she snapped, tone laced with irritation. “I come home to hear that you had movers come pick up all my stuff? You can’t just do shit like that without asking me.”
I tossed my gear bag into the back of Betty, grinning despite myself. “You’re right, Ari. Normally, I wouldn’t have. But…you would’ve fought me on this, so I did something drastic. Like moving all your stuff into our home.” I kept my voice steady as I climbed into the driver’s seat. Jimenez practically tried to climb into my lap so he could he ar the conversation. His face was right next to the back of my hand, and he pulled the phone away from my ear slightly, trying like hell to catch the ass-chewing I was receiving.
“It’s not our home, Dalton Thatcher,” she snapped. “It’s your home, and you stole all my things to move them in without asking me.”
Jimenez’s eyes widened, and he whispered, “You moved her shit without asking? Do you know how unhinged women can be?”
“ ?Qué dijiste, Christian?” Ari’s voice crackled through the phone, and both of us jumped, stunned she’d heard him.
Jimenez shot me a panicked look, mouthing “see.” “Uh, nada , Coach. Just telling him how crazy that is. Not you, never you.”
Yeah, maybe it was a crazy move.
But I’d spent too many nights lying awake since carrying her out of her cousin’s apartment, thinking about how much I hated that she’d gone back to sleeping on a couch. Then she’d let me taste her, and fuck, I was gone. Decided it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Of course, that was before Jimenez’s advice of respecting her independence, so now I wasn’t so sure it was the smartest move.
“Are your hands up in the air, or are you pinching the bridge of your nose?” I asked, curious about what they were doing because I knew they had to be doing something. Ari always spoke with her hands. Her whole body, if I was being honest.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, like she had just realized that she was, in fact, doing one of those two things.
“Or is it a mix of both?” I teased, pulling onto the road leading toward the airport. Something tightened in my chest at the thought of not seeing Ari over the next few days, but that was exactly why I’d chosen to move her stuff in today.
Was it a little bit sneaky and underhanded? Sure.
Did I feel bad about it? Not one bit.
There was no way I could sleep at night knowing she was lying on someone’s couch when I had a perfectly good guest bedroom at my place. At least until I could talk her into my own bed…
“Both,” she admitted. “but that’s beside the point. I can’t just move into your apartment. That’s not…it’s not…” she growled in frustration, and I took pity on her.
“Look, Ari. If you want, I’ll send all of your stuff back to your cousin’s. But we both know that my apartment is way bigger than I need. So, why don’t you stay there for at least a few days? See how you like it. What’s the worst that could happen?”
She could decide not to stay. The thought caused my chest to tighten, but I meant it. If she wanted out, her stuff would be back at her cousin’s within the hour.
There was silence, then a sigh. “Fine, Dalton. I’ll stay while you’re in Nashville,” she said, her voice firm. “But I’m not promising anything longer than that. Got it?”
“Got it.” There was no hiding the happiness in my voice. “Still going to cheer for me, Sunshine?”
Her voice softened. “Always, Thatcher.”