37. Kai
KAI
“You know the opportunity this is, right, son?” Coach sounds like I just sold my winning lottery ticket, and to some extent, I did.
But I also know it’s the right decision after talking things through with Grayson.
I rake my hand through my hair. “I understand, sir, but I can’t leave my team. We have a great shot at taking it all the way to the championship this year, and I just wouldn’t feel right. I’ll be ready as soon as I finish this season, just like I had planned before.”
Coach sighs, leaning back in his seat. “You’re a hell of a captain, Mercer. You’ve brought this team a long way, and I’m glad you’re sticking around through the end. Not so sure Whitaker will agree with that.”
I chuckle at that. “Wanna make that call for me?”
“Hell no,” Coach says, standing and walking around his desk, holding out his hand to me. “Good luck.”
“Thank you, Coach.” Standing, I shake his hand firmly before turning and heading toward the locker room.
Grayson is waiting a short distance down the hall. He looks up from his phone as I approach. “How’d that go?”
I shake my head, letting out a heavy breath. “Good, but that wasn’t the one I was worried about.”
He nods in understanding. “Not to beat a dead horse, but you’re sure about this, right? Wren would understand.”
Rolling my eyes, I explain my reasoning for the millionth time since I told him I made my decision last night.
“Like I’ve said, this isn’t about Wren. Yes, I want to spend whatever time I can with her, but I refuse to let the team down.
Do you really think you could go all the way to the championship if Coleson takes my spot?
That’s like trying to slide down a dry Slip ’N Slide. ”
Grayson chuckles. “Fair. Just don’t fuck up our chances of playing together in Seattle.”
I shove him gently. “Wouldn’t dream of it, brother.”
We walk down the hall a ways before running into Weston. “I do not know who pissed in your girlfriend’s Cheerios, but holy shit, everyone needs to be on their best behavior today.”
My brows furrow. “What happened?”
“I said hi, basically, and she all but ripped my dick off,” Weston says, leaning against the wall. “She could end global warming single-handedly with how cold she is today.”
“Are you sure you didn’t just piss her off?” Grayson asks.
Asher comes walking up behind us, gear bag slung over his shoulder. “What’d I miss?”
“I was just warning these two about Wren being in a mood.” Weston shudders. “It’s not natural, man. It’s messing with me. She’s normally so fun.”
I think back to this morning and reach into my pocket, grabbing my phone out and unlocking it. I go to our text thread, where my message still sits, unopened. Huh.
I start walking toward the locker room, leaving the guys standing there.
“Don’t you have a call to make before practice?” Grayson’s voice carries down the hall.
I wave him off. “I’ll deal with Dane in a bit.” Some things are more important than hockey, Wren being one of them.
Walking into the locker room, I bypass my teammates, who are starting to filter in, making my way directly toward the laundry room. Judging by the banging around I hear from there, my girl is definitely in a mood.
I open the door, just as she slams the washing machine closed.
“What do you want?” Wren asks, not even bothering to look to see who walked in.
I close the door, coming to stand right beside her. She sighs, looking up at me.
Her eyes are red-rimmed, her cheeks still splotchy. I can tell she’s been crying, and my heart squeezes at the sight. My hands instantly go to her face, thumbs tracing the redness under her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Her bottom lip begins to tremble. “Everything. Everything is wrong.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” The last thing I want to do is leave her like this throughout our practice, and I need to call Dane at some point, which doesn’t leave me a lot of time left in my day.
Wren shakes her head, sniffling before turning back to the laundry waiting for her. “Maybe after practice.”
I nod, quickly pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I love you. We’ll talk later.”
All I get in return is a slight shake of her head, telling me she heard me before I leave the room.
Something is definitely wrong, but now is not the time or the place to push her. I check the clock, and I don’t have enough time to call Dane before practice.
“Well, shit,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair as I make it to my stall.
“Did I hear right?” Coleson asks, walking up to me. “You leaving us for Seattle?”
“Nope.” I set him straight, taking off my sweatshirt and kicking off my shoes.
“Huh,” he says. “Could’ve sworn that’s what I just heard Cooper and Bennett talking about in the hall.”
Great, just what I need to deal with.
I strip out of my sweats before starting to pull on my practice gear. “Like I said, Richards. You heard wrong.”
He shakes his head, chuckling as he makes his way toward his stall. I grit my teeth. The last thing I need is for this team to think I’m leaving them when all they should be focused on is winning the next game.
The rest of the team files in, everyone getting ready for practice.
I’m the first one on the ice, and I take in my surroundings.
Before I even stepped onto the ice at PCU for the first time, I knew it wasn’t forever. In fact, I hoped it’d be less than four years. Then I could move on and chase my forever.
What I didn’t account for was the friendships that I’d make here, the brotherhood I’d find.
Grayson, Asher, and even Weston have become more than my friends; they’ve become my brothers. Weston and Asher will be finishing out another year here at PCU, but Grayson and I will both be going to the Seattle Stormbreakers for this upcoming NHL season.
Kinda cool to continue playing with your best friend, no matter how long or short it turns out to be.
The arena lights turn on, the stands illuminating as I make a final circle in the center of the ice before coming to a stop.
This place, these people, have served me well. I only hope they feel the same once I leave here. That they know I gave my all to the program, that it continues to grow and get more attention because of the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears we’ve left out here for the last four years.
Grayson skates onto the ice, breaking my train of thought as he skates up to me. “You ready, Cap?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
The rest of the team takes the ice, and warm-ups begin.
After practice, I quickly shower before slipping my street clothes back on and looking for Wren.
I check the laundry room, supply closets, literally everywhere. I find Donnelly in the locker room, moving the towel cart, grabbing the soiled towels, which is normally Wren’s job.
My brows pinch. “Did Wren take off?”
“Yes, she wasn’t feeling well,” Donnelly says, not meeting my gaze and pushing the cart farther away.
I go back to my stall, grabbing my phone out of my bag before shooting off a text.
Kai: you okay? looking for you but donnelly said you took off early.
The message shows as delivered, and I wait for her reply.
“Can we hit up Oakley’s again today?" Weston asks, a towel sitting on the back of his neck, another cinched around his hips.
“Can you put clothes on today?” Asher jokes.
Weston runs his hands down his stomach in a lame attempt to show off his abs. “Gotta advertise the merchandise.”
Grayson rolls his eyes. “Literally no one here is interested in that.”
“Don’t be a hater, Bennett. It’s unbecoming.” Weston drops his towel as he pulls on a pair of compression shorts before grabbing his sweats.
I check my phone again, still nothing from Wren. Hopefully she’s okay. I should really go check on her. I send another text, this time to Harlow.
Kai: have you heard from wren? she left work early and hasn’t replied to my text.
Harlow replies instantly.
Harlow: I’m not sure what’s going on with her honestly. She was really short when I texted her earlier, saying she needs some alone time.
Huh. I open my calendar, finding the day she had her doctor’s appointment and counting forward to today.
That’s definitely in the window for when she could’ve gotten her ultrasound results.
I’m about to call her when my phone starts ringing, Dane’s contact flashing across the screen.
I let out a harsh breath before standing up and heading toward the hall. Looks like now is as good a time as any.
“Hey! What about Oakley’s?” Weston shouts as I make my way out. I turn my phone screen toward him, and he nods, making a motion of zipping his lips shut. If only.
Leaning against the wall in the hall, I swipe to answer the call.
“Hey, Dane,” I say, already running through the words I want to say.
“Mercer,” Dane says, his voice sounding a bit more tired than normal. “You got an answer for me?”
I push my hand through my still damp hair. “I do, sir, and I don’t know if you’re going to like it.”
He chuckles slightly. “Staying to finish the season with your team?”
I blink, caught off guard. “How’d you know I’d make that choice?”
“You’re a good man, Kai,” he says. “A damn good man. It’s a big reason as to why we wanted you to begin with.
Yeah, you work hard, you have talent, but at the end of the day, you’re loyal.
I can’t fault you for wanting to finish what you started.
You’ve built a program from the ground up over the last four years, and it’s about time to finish it with a bang. ”
I grin, not expecting this at all, but thankful that I don’t have to explain myself again. “I appreciate that, sir.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you soon, and hopefully, I’ll see you at the Frozen Four.”
With that, we end the call.
I check my texts again, still seeing nothing from Wren.
My mind starts spinning, worries from the past slipping through to the present.
Isn’t this exactly how it started before? Instead of leaning on each other for whatever shit was happening, we tried handling it alone?
I won’t accept history repeating itself, so I quickly head back into the locker room to grab my things.
Grayson lifts his brows as I fly past him. “I take it that went well?”
“Yep,” I say, shoving my things into my bag and grabbing my keys from the side pocket. “Went way better than I thought. I might be home late tonight, just a heads up.”
Weston, Asher, and Grayson are all gawking at me when I turn around. “What?”
Asher clears his throat. “Nothing, Cap, you just…well, I’ve never seen you shove things into a bag.”
“Literally never; it’s like watching a sacrilegious act,” Weston adds.
“I need to be somewhere.” I shrug my bag onto my shoulder, Grayson clapping a hand to my shoulder.
“Go check on your girl, man.”