Chapter 33 Liza #2
“It’s yours for as long as you need it. Everything I’ve got to do is close by, and I can grab a ride with one of the guys if the rain doesn’t let up.
It’s probably the battery, but I know fuck all about cars.
I’ll have Dutton take a look and report back.
If it needs more than he can handle, he’ll take it to the dealership. ”
“That’s not—”
“It’s no big deal. His family runs it, and he’ll get to see his folks mid-week. You’re basically doing him a favor.”
“Okay, well, thanks. And thank Dutton for me. I need to get going, but, yeah. Thanks again,” I repeat for the hundredth time.
I pull out of the driveway as Blue ducks inside the house to dry off and deal with my car issues.
I’m beyond grateful, but I’m also in danger of being late, so I focus on the road and follow the directions my phone is giving me.
A few hours later, I’m sitting in the library replaying my conversation with Blue. Something he said this morning didn’t add up, and it’s bugging me, so I pull out my phone to clear things up.
Liza: You said you’d catch a ride to practice with your teammate.
Blue: Yeah, but I don’t need to. I can walk.
Blue: Oh, you mean when I was talking about five years in the future. Right.
Liza: But you won’t have practice. You're a finance bro. You meant the office. Like, you’ll catch a ride to the office.
Blue: I didn’t mean the office. I meant practice.
Liza: But why? Who calls their 9 to 5 “practice”? That’s not corporate speak.
Blue: Thanks for the heads up. If I were going to grad school, that tip would be helpful, but I’m not.
Liza: Yes, you are.
Blue: I never thought I’d say this to you, Liza, but you sound like my dad.
Liza: You're not going to grad school?
Blue: Nope.
Liza: And your dad is okay with this?
Blue: Nope.
Blue: But he’s dealing with it. He was pissed at first, but I think he’s starting to like the idea of telling his buddies his son’s going to be a pro athlete. He thinks it might help him get some big name clients.
Liza: You’re going pro?
Blue: That’s the plan. I mean, there are no guarantees. Just ask Coach Van, but I’m going all in.
Liza: That’s great. I’m really happy for you.
Blue: Did Dutton text you? Your car needs a fuel pump. He should have it back to you by mid-day tomorrow. You can keep my car until then.
Liza: That’s not fair. You’ll need it. I can catch a ride to work or see if somebody can drop me off.
Blue: I don’t need it. I can walk to the Wolf’s Den or grab a ride with Sparky.
Liza: Thank you. Really. I don’t know what else to say.
Blue: You don’t have to say anything. Just drive safe.
I set my phone back in my bag so I can get some work done, but it’s pointless. I’m about to pack up and head home in case a change of scenery is what I need. But before I’m up off the couch, a goddess appears with a magic elixir.
Well, Bridgette appears with a cup of coffee, but that’s basically the same thing.
“Are you leaving already?” she asks. “I heard you had a rough morning, and I thought you could use a pick-me-up.”
I inhale the nutty scent of the hot drink and give her a grateful smile. “Thank you. This is just what I needed. My dad got off to a rough start, butBlue came to my rescue. And Dutton did, too. I guess he’s got my car at his folks’ dealership and he’s getting her fixed up, which is amazing.”
“He’s a pretty fantastic guy,” Bridgette agrees.
“Well, I’m biased, of course. But I happen to think the hockey team is a pretty special bunch, and not just because I’m in love with one of the guys and related to another one.
They really are like a family. They take care of each other.
And you’re one of us now, so you might as well get used to it. ”
I mull her words over, because I guess she’s right.
Even if Blue and I aren’t together, I’m still part of the team.
My job hasn’t changed. And it’s only awkward at work because things are different now.
We’re not exchanging glances or waiting until the other is done so we can walk back home together or meet up later.
“Are you okay?” Bridgette asks. “Is your coffee too hot? They didn’t have one of those cardboard collar things.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “And my coffee is perfect. Thanks again for that. It’s just…”
She doesn’t prompt me or pepper me with questions. She just leans back into the cushions and waits for me to put the words together. “I miss him.”
My friend just nods, like she understands what I’m going through.
“I didn’t expect to miss him this much. We’ve only been friends a few months, but he wove his way into every part of my life and now I think of him every time I freaking turn around, and that is completely unfair.
I was right to break up with him. What he did was shitty.
Beyond shitty. And I deserve so much better than that.
But you know what really sucks? He is better than that.
He’s proving every damn day that one stupid hour in a restaurant was an anomaly, and I kind of hate him for that. I kind of love it, too.”
“Look, you won’t get any argument from me. I’m not shy about being Team Blue. And you were one hundred percent right to call him out on his bullshit at The Gatehouse. It was cowardly, and that’s not the Blue I’ve come to know. I guess the real question is, can you risk your heart again?”
I flop back against the plush leather of the couch and turn my head toward the ceiling.
“That is a very good question, and one I’m not sure I have the answer to.
I mean, I grew up knowing that some men aren’t reliable.
That they can’t be trusted. My dad was a no-show in my life and even though I’m better off for it, that didn’t make things easier at the time.
So, yeah, one one hand, it’s easy to lump Blue into that club of entitled rich guys whose specialty is letting people down. ”
“But on the other hand,” Bridgette says, smiling because she’s completely biased and has no shame.
“On the other hand, I wonder if maybe he just had a day pass to that club. A one-time membership. Because he never acted like that before, and he certainly hasn’t since. If we’re purely looking at data—”
“Oh, yes, we should always look at data when discussing matters of the heart,” she teases.
“Exactly,” I say, defending myself. “The data shows the evening at the restaurant to be an outlier. And that leads me to conclude that maybe a second chance is appropriate. If he wants one.”
“If he—” she says, unable to keep from laughing. “The man is auditioning on the daily for the role of devoted boyfriend. Yes, I think he wants a second chance.”
“Well, if he keeps playing his cards right, he just might get one.”