Chapter 31
Mickey
“Iseriously appreciate this,” I say, as Leo pulls up to the curb and parks his car outside the airport terminal.
JT was supposed to drive me here, but his plans changed at the last minute.
I guess that’s the life of a dad. We said our goodbyes last night, but I know we’ll be in touch daily.
That guy couldn’t shake me loose even if he wanted to.
And, honestly, why would he want to? I’m the best.
“It’s no problem,” Leo says, hopping out of the car to help me with my stuff.
I don’t need any help, though. It’s just me, my big-ass duffle bag, and some snacks Maggie packed and gave to me when I was over there last night.
My new team will provide all the gear I need, and they’ve even got a furnished place set up for me, so I just packed clothes, some electronics, and, of course, my jump rope.
Not that I can even fucking look at the thing right now.
If my cardio suffers, it’ll be just one more thing to blame Viv for.
Okay, that’s bullshit. I don’t blame Viv at all. I walked into that situation with my eyes open. I made my own choices, and took risks. They didn’t pan out. Am I heartbroken? Holy fuckballs, yes. But I’m not angry. I’m just…sad.
I’ll be fine. I know that. I’m moving to a country where I only know about ten words of the language, and I’m starting a brand new job.
Both of those things are gonna keep me pretty busy, so maybe I won’t even have time to be lonely.
My new captain, Olek, has promised to show me around, and I’m looking forward to seeing the sights, learning some new words, and playing hockey.
But that’s all I’m interested in. I know the guys will want to go out, and that’s fine by me, but I’m not looking for any hookups.
It’s not that my breakup with Viv—if you can even call it that—is too new, or that I need time to heal before I get back in the game. It’s that no one else is Viv. And no one’s ever going to be.
“You good?”
I blink and see that Leo’s standing in front of me while cars drive past us as they go to and from the airport. Shit. I must have spaced out there for a sec.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I assure him. It’s a polite lie, but what am I supposed to do? Break down right here, ten feet from traffic? Besides, there’s no time for meltdowns. I’ve got an international flight to catch.
“Text us, okay? Dime’s gonna be checking the group chat, and you know he’ll worry if you don’t send updates. And then I’ll have to deal with it.”
I laugh at his bluntness. I love this kid. He’s been a good friend and neighbor. “The team’s in good hands with you,” I say. I’m not trying to get all mushy, I swear, but I think the guy feels like he walks around in his older brother’s shadow, and that’s just not true.
Leo’s brow furrows.“It’s not in my hands, per se. Dutton’s the new Captain. I’m just the Alt Cap. And I share that duty with Blue.”
This freaking kid. Who uses phrases like “per se”?
Leo Santos, apparently. “Bullshit,” I tell him.
“Yeah, Wagner’s got the C, and he’s earned it, but he’ll graduate next May.
The team voted to give you one of the Alt patches for a reason, and don’t forget it.
You don’t have to lead like everybody else to be a leader, my dude.
You don’t have to be like everybody else to earn their respect.
Just do your thing. That’s what got you here in the first place. ”
“Thanks,” he says sincerely, a smile crossing his face. It’s not his brother Pete’s wide, toothy grin. It’s not even what most people would call a full-fledged smile. But for Leo? He’s basically mugging for the camera right now.
I know the guy’s not a hugger, so I reach my hand out for a shake. Then he pulls me in and gives me a man-pat on my back. Holy fuckballs, I did not expect that.
I didn’t expect a lot of things, I guess.
I never figured JT would be a married guy with a kid at twenty-one.
I never expected to score the game-winning goal in the final game of the Frozen Four this year.
I sure as fuck never expected I’d be leaving college early and moving to Poland to start my pro career.
And I never expected that Viv McDonald would steal my heart.
Fuck. it always comes back to her. And I need to move on. I mean, I am moving on. I’m moving to Europe, for fuck’s sake. That’s moving on. Or, at least, it’s moving away, which is kinda the same thing.
A car horn beeps, and that’s the signal for Leo to get back in his SUV and drive off.
I give him another wave of thanks as I stride into the airport.
The line for security moves at a snail’s pace, but I’ve got a podcast to listen to, so I’m good.
By the time I make it to the gate, there’s a group already boarding.
I’m not stressed, though. It’s not like the flight was about to leave without me.
I’ve got a good ten minutes to spare. I snap a selfie and put it in the group chat.
Ollie: Looking hot, Mick
Dutton: You do know you have to actually get on the plane, right? Like, the airport isn’t going to take you to your final destination.
Blue: Of course he knows that. Our boy is an international superstar, Sparky. He’s a man of the world.
Dutton: That man of the world better not miss his fucking flight because he’s taking selfies while the plane boards. We do not need angry European men named Jan and Oskar threatening to kick our asses because Mick isn’t there for training.
Mickey: Jan wouldn’t do that. He’s totally chill. Oskar, on the other hand…
Dutton: Then get on the fucking plane!
Blue: Yeah, do that. But don’t rush or anything. Go take a piss if you need to.
Ollie: Exactly. Take your time, but do not miss your plane.
Mickey: Uh, okay. Got it. I’ll check in when we land.
Blue: Have a good flight!
Ollie: He will.
Mickey: Thanks for the vote of confidence, Olls.
My friends are a bunch of weirdos, but I’m used to their antics by now.
I decide to find my place in line not because I think I’m in actual danger of having the plane take off without me, but because I know myself.
I’ll be fine one minute, and then down some random rabbit hole on the internet the next.
Then I really will miss my flight, and the last fucking thing I need right now is Dutton Wagner, my future brother-in-law, to say “I told you so”.
Pretty soon, I’m making my way to my seat and hoping I’m not stuck sitting next to someone who wants to yap my ear off.
Ironic coming from me, I know, but I’m hoping to sleep for at least part of the flight, if I can.
Being in a cramped space sucks, and napping will make the time go by faster.
At least I’ve got an aisle seat. That’ll help.
My eyes scan the numbers and I look for 17C. But when I find it, I see that it’s already occupied. By an ass. It’s a small, shapely ass, and it’s one I’d recognize anywhere.
That’s Viv’s ass.
But that can’t be true because Vivian McDonald is not on this plane. This plane is going to Poland. Forever. It’s not coming back. I mean, I guess the actual plane is coming back, but these people aren’t. Okay, some of them probably are, too, but you know what I mean.
Viv’s ass can’t be in my seat because Viv can’t be in my seat because she’s flying to Vancouver in two days so she can cruise around the globe and do yoga. And she graduates tomorrow, which means she’s obviously in Bainbridge now, not at the airport in Baltimore.
Before I can form a coherent thought or speak an actual word, Viv stops digging in the bag next to her and looks up at me, her beautiful hazel eyes drinking me in.
The woman I love is less than a foot in front of me—so close I could fucking touch her— and all I can think to say is, “Why is your ass in my seat?”