Chapter 3
Mason
Izipped up my duffel bag and tossed it onto the pile with a sigh. Two suitcases and a carry-on. That was it.
My whole life, packed up to move to freaking Florida.
My closet door hung open behind me, my winter gear still lined up like it was waiting for a season that wasn’t coming. Jackets, boots, all the things that screamed Canada. Miami wouldn’t have use for any of it. And down there, I’d be just as out of place as my winter boots.
I rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the headache building behind my eyes. My jaw ached from how long I’d been clenching it.
Tonight, I’d be saying goodbye to my family over dinner at my parents’ place. After last night’s train wreck with Vanessa, my expectations were rock bottom.
She didn’t take the news of my trade well. I’d hoped for one last romp between the sheets, a proper sendoff. Instead, I got waterworks and accusations.
Not the send-off I’d pictured.
Who knew she thought we were more than just casual?
“Guess I missed that memo,” I muttered, flopping onto the bed and closing my eyes.
Two weeks wasn’t enough time to process getting ripped away from everything familiar. The Fusion were thrilled to have me, practically rolling out the red carpet for their shiny new defensive star. I should’ve been flattered. Instead, their enthusiasm just pissed me off more.
You’re being stubborn. Give it a chance.
I snorted, staring at the ceiling. I was a creature of habit. Change and I didn’t get along.
Needing a distraction from the spiral, I grabbed my phone and dialed Gideon’s number. The line clicked, and music, laughter, and shouting hit all at once.
Shit. I’d forgotten about his farewell party.
“Mason!” Gideon shouted over the noise. “One sec, let me find somewhere quieter.”
There was some shuffling, a door closing, and then blessed silence.
“What’s up, buttercup? Need anything before your big move tomorrow?”
“Nah, I’m good. Didn’t mean to interrupt your party.”
“Never an interruption from you, Mason,” he said, still slightly breathless. “I thought you were having dinner with your family tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m heading out soon.” I sat up, eyeing the suitcases by the door. “I’m not exactly looking forward to it.”
“I get it,” Gideon said, his usual teasing tone softening. “Goodbyes suck. But let’s be real, you don’t get much family time during hockey season anyway, whether you’re in Toronto or Miami.”
“True, but—”
“But you’re still brooding about Miami.”
I let out a short laugh. “Yeah. You know me too well. Honestly, if tonight goes anything like last night with Vanessa, I might just hop on a plane early and skip the whole thing.”
“Vanessa?” His voice perked up, curiosity fully activated. “Oh, now this I need to hear. Spill.”
“It was a goddamn disaster.” I stood and paced over to the window. “Apparently she thought my ‘big news’ was a proposal. When I told her I was leaving for Miami, she burst into tears.”
Gideon let out a low whistle. “Yikes. What did you do?”
“I stood there dumbfounded. We hooked up maybe five times since that underwear shoot. I thought we were on the same page, casual, no strings. When I told her that…” I shook my head, still in disbelief. “She slapped me. Full-on soap opera style.”
“Shut up! She didn’t!” Gideon’s howl of laughter was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“It gets worse.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She refused to believe I was actually leaving. Kept insisting it was all an elaborate prank to ‘test her love.’”
“That’s fabulously dramatic. Girl’s got more delusions than a psych ward. What did you do?”
“I tried to explain, but she wasn’t having it. She whipped out her phone and showed me this Pinterest board. ‘Mason and Vanessa’s Dream Home.’ Gid, there were like a hundred pins of nurseries.”
“Holy shit.” Pure evil satisfaction dripped down the line. “Well, look at it this way. At least you’re leaving the country, so you’ll never have to see her again.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” I grumbled, though a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. It was kind of funny, in a twisted, nightmare-fuel kind of way. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“That’s why you keep me around. Now buck up, buttercup. You’ve survived deranged puck bunnies before. You can handle one family dinner.”
“Are you still flying down in a few days?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t commit any fashion crimes in Miami.”
I snorted, the tension in my shoulders finally easing. “Thanks, Gid. I needed that.”
“Anytime, hotshot. Now go knock ‘em dead at dinner. And remember, Miami awaits. New city, new beginnings, new adventures... and Mase?”
“Yeah?”
“No more accidental engagements, okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Goodbye, Gideon.”
“Call me if you need anything. Catch you in Miami, big guy!”
His chuckle echoed in my ear as I ended the call, feeling a little lighter. Gideon always knew how to pull me out of my head. I took a deep breath, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door.
A lump formed in my throat as I drove down the familiar country roads, passing weathered barns and sprawling cornfields bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. I was going to miss this place.
Before long, the modest two-story house came into view, its faded blue paint and wraparound porch hit me with the kind of nostalgia that made my throat go tight.
“Home sweet home.” I parked and stepped out, breathing in a gust of cool northern air, crisp and invigorating.
The scent of pot roast and buttery rolls drifted out the moment I cracked the door.
“There’s my boy!” Mom’s voice floated in from the kitchen, all warmth and cheer. She bustled in, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling me into a hug. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow. It all happened so fast!”
“I know, Ma,” I murmured, fighting off an unexpected swell of emotion.
Dad clapped a hand on my shoulder, his smile tinged with pride and something softer. “You’ve worked hard for this, son. The Fusion’s lucky to have you.”
I stepped inside, greeted by the familiar chaos of my siblings’ voices. My younger sister, Emma, bounded down the stairs, her long blonde hair streaming behind her.
“Mase! Miami, huh? I’m totally visiting during spring break.”
My brother Liam leaned against the doorframe, trying to look cool while failing to hide his grin. “So do I have to root for Miami now? They suck.”
I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “They’re not gonna suck for long.”
“We’re proud of you,” Mom said, her eyes misting up. “But we’ll miss you terribly.”
“Let’s eat,” Dad suggested, rescuing us all from getting too sentimental. We moved to the dining room and took our usual seats around the oval table.
“I hear the nightlife is wild,” Emma said, handing me a dish of steaming potatoes.
I wasn’t much for clubs, and I barely drank during the season. “I’ll be too focused on hockey to party.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Please. Gideon is not going to let you—”
The doorbell’s shrill ring sliced through the moment. We all looked at each other.
“Were we expecting someone?” Mom asked, already on her way to the door.
She came back a moment later with a puzzled look on her face.
And behind her... Vanessa.
My fork clattered against the plate. “Vanessa? What are you doing here?”
She gave me a sugary smile. “You invited me last night, silly. Don’t you remember?”
I stared at her, blindsided. I sure as hell hadn’t invited her. But before I could get a word out, Mom was already ushering her to an empty chair.
“The more the merrier! I’ll grab another place setting,” she chirped, completely oblivious to the tension.
Vanessa flashed a tight smile as she sat down across from me.
Mom returned with a plate and silverware, setting them in front of Vanessa. “We were just discussing Mason’s big move.”
“The big move, alright,” Vanessa snapped. “The one he didn’t get around to telling me about until last night.”
I gritted my teeth. I understood she was hurt, but the last thing I needed was another round of her theatrics. Especially in front of my family.
Willing myself to stay calm, I took a slow breath. “It was a sudden trade,” I said evenly. “These things happen fast in the league.”
Vanessa’s fork scraped against her plate. “Did it happen just last night?”
My brother chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. “Guess you don’t follow hockey, Vanessa? The trade’s been all over the news.”
“No, I don’t.” Her smile turned glassy and unhinged as she stabbed at her pot roast. “The point is that Mason didn’t bother to mention it until right before he dumped me—after leading me on for months.”
A heavy silence settled over the table.
“I, uh…” I started, scrambling to explain how I’d thought we were just casually hooking up.
“You know,” Vanessa continued, louder now, “most girls might expect a ring after six months. Instead, I got told he’s moving out of the country. Real classy.”
My family watched the spectacle with wide eyes, frozen in place.
“Vanessa, I don’t know what you’re talking about. We both—”
“Oh, save it,” she cut me off, voice rising. “All those nights, all those talks about our future? I thought we were getting married, Mason! And then you just dumped me out of the blue. For what? Some shiny new contract?”
This was spiraling. There had never been talk of marriage. Ever.
“I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding. But I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”
My family’s eyes ping-ponged between us, their faces ranging from stunned to deeply uncomfortable.
Vanessa’s facade cracked, her eyes now blazing. “I gave you everything, Mason. And this is how you repay me? By breaking off our engagement?”
My head jerked up. “Okay, that’s enough.” I stood, my chair scraping against the floor. “Vanessa, stop. There was never an engagement. We’re not getting married. We weren’t even dating.”
She stared at me for a long moment, her chest heaving. “What do you mean we’re not dating? We’ve been together for months!”
“We barely saw each other,” I said, incredulous. “That’s not dating.”
For a second, she looked like she might actually hit me again. But then she shot to her feet, whirled around, and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
The silence afterward was deafening.
I sank back into my chair, pulse pounding.
Liam let out a low whistle. “Damn, bro. And I thought my breakups were messy.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “Can we just… eat? Please?”
“Of course, honey,” Mom said brightly, as if none of it had happened. “Who wants dessert?”