15. Aiden
Chapter fifteen
Aiden
I slam the door closed behind me after walking into the house. The day has been a total wash, and I’m glad to put it the fuck behind me. Dropping my gear bag by the door, the weight of the day heavy on my shoulders, I head straight for the kitchen. Practice was a test in patience, and though I know I did well, it shouldn’t have been as hard as it was. The guys’ eyes were on me the whole time, not saying shit, but they didn’t have to. Their silence spoke volumes. Doubt radiated from their stares, questioning whether I truly have what it takes to lead us to victory. Hell, some days I wonder the same thing.
In the locker room, I feel the guys watching me. They’re not saying shit, but they don’t have to. I know they’re wondering if I’ve got what it takes to lead us to victory. Hell, some days I wonder the same thing. But I’ll be damned if I let them see me break—these guys’ll see me bleed before I let them see me doubt myself.
I don’t understand where my head’s been at lately, but I need to get back in gear. Our next game is coming up in a few days, and this next one isn’t just another mark in the win column. It’s my shot at proving I belong here, that I’m not just some minor-league schmuck who got lucky.
If we lose, it’s not just the team that takes the hit. It’s my future, my dreams, everything I’ve been busting my ass for since I first laced up a pair of skates.
We still have an uphill battle for our kickoff season, and I can’t leave anything to chance. There’s too much riding on this shit for me to choke.
The house is thankfully quiet when I come in. I know Jax is out with whatever girl he’s managed to charm recently, and I’m pretty sure Aurora is still at the stadium. Just thinking of her has me feeling the strangest rush of emotions.
We still haven’t talked about what happened between us in the kitchen a few days ago. I’m not even sure if I want to. Talking about it means figuring out if there’s something more, and I’m not ready for that. Because honestly that would mean figuring out how to tell Jax.
Everything in my life is intertwined to the point that one small push could send things crashing and burning to the ground.
It’s like the pressure never lets up.
Security? That’s a fairy tale for guys born with a silver spoon in their mouths. For me, every game, every practice, every fucking breath is a battle.
I’m always one bad play away from being yesterday’s news. But that’s the price of chasing greatness.
You either adapt and survive, or you fade away. And I’ll be damned if I’m going anywhere.
My cell ringing jolts me out of my inner thoughts, and I scowl when I see who’s calling. Trust my old man to call right when I need a moment alone. I know, though, that if I don’t answer, the next time I do, there’ll be hell to pay. With a deep sigh, I connect the call and walk into the kitchen.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Son,” he replies, his voice rough, no doubt from the pack of cigarettes he’s probably already smoked today. “I saw the game.”
I nod, though he can’t see me. There isn’t anything for me to say, so I wait for his opening volley. I don’t have to wait long for what I know is inevitably coming.
“You’re looking a little slow coming down the right side, and your attempt on goal showed a couple of seconds hesitation. You should’ve put it in the goal faster than that.” I clench my jaw at his criticisms. Even though I know they’re coming, it’s still enough to sour my mood even further. “Their attempt on goal shouldn’t have even happened. Your defensive play is still as lackluster as ever. That type of shit won’t fly in the majors, and you fucking know that. Jax got you on that team. How do you think it’ll reflect on him if you play like a girl?”
I know it’s not really a question. It’s all talk from someone who never even made it into the minor leagues himself. I know he’s full of shit and just saying this crap to make himself feel better.
I’ve heard all that shit in therapy, but it’s still enough to make me feel like that same little kid who thought he wasn’t worthy. I hate that he can make me feel like that even when I know I’m giving this shit my best.
“Well?” He continues. “You ain’t got anything to say to me, boy? Are you going to tell me that was the best game you had in you?”
I suck on my teeth before replying. “No.”
“No, what?”
“No, sir.”
He grunts, and I clench my fist at my side before purposefully relaxing. “Get your shit together or come home and find something else to do. You’re blowing it, and the team doesn’t need to waste money on someone who doesn’t give a fuck.”
The line goes dead before I can respond, and I slowly drop my hand, staring at the screen. I grip the kitchen counter tighter, my father’s harsh words echoing in my head as resentment, unwelcome and dangerous, takes root.
His criticisms used to cut deep, leaving me raw and bleeding. Now? They’re just fucking annoying. But that little voice inside, the one that still craves his approval? That shit’s harder to shake than a defender on my ass during a power play. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The cool granite under my palms grounds me, reminding me where I am.
I’m not that scared kid anymore, desperate for a pat on the back. I’m a fucking pro hockey player. But even as I think it, I can feel that old doubt creeping in, as persistent as a bad high stick. That’s what he always does—drives by with his shitty criticism and then dips out before you can say a word in response. He thinks that makes him in control, but I know what it really is. He’s a fucking coward. I squeeze the phone in my hand, envisioning myself throwing the fucking thing across the room, but I’m not trying to get a new one. I won’t let him get me so out of control.
I take a deep breath in and lean my hands on the kitchen counter. Focusing on my breathing helps take the edge off my anger, but when I hear a door open in the hallway behind me, I scowl and hurriedly try to put on my indifferent mask.
“Aiden? Are you alright?”
Fuck, I think to myself. I had hoped it was Jax coming home early. I’m not sure if I’m ready to deal with Aurora and my father on the same day. When a hand lands on my shoulder, I turn to look at her and nearly have to turn away again.
She’s decked out in a form-fitting blouse that hugs her ample breasts and cuts to a vee, showing off all that cleavage. Her jeans form-fitting, emphasizing her shapely hips that I know feel perfect in my grip.
She’s a fucking fox.
Aurora’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I’m thrown back to that night years ago when those same eyes looked at me. I push the memory away. But as she stands there, looking like every wet dream I’ve ever had, I can’t help but think, what if?
“You look…” I trail off, not knowing how to say she looks amazing without coming off as creepy. “That’s a nice outfit.”
Aurora’s eyes widen, but then she smiles, and a small bit of my anger melts away. “Thanks. I tried not to overdo it since it’s kind of like a starter date like Jax said.”
Date. That word reminds me of why she’s looking so nice. It’s not for me. It’s for that Mark guy. The whole thought of it makes me want to punch something. I have to say something to diffuse things.
“So, where are you and the guy going for dinner?”
Aurora pulls her phone out of her pocket and taps on the screen a couple of times. “We’re supposed to be going to Tony’s.”
I know that spot. It’s popular among the locals who want to get out and about without driving to a larger city. It’s dressier than I had expected for a first date.
“That’s fancy as fuck. Didn’t realize Mark was making money like that.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Aurora replies, giggling softly.
Selfishly, I want to covet that sound and keep it with me to use whenever I need a boost. “And this guy is safe?”
Her smile dips slightly. “I mean, I guess? They run background checks at work, so I’m pretty sure he’s not a serial killer or something.”
“Yeah, but what do you really know about this guy?” I press for more details. I know I should stop or at least be more subtle, but I’m tired and already wound up, thanks to the earlier phone call. “Maybe Jax and I should post up in the restaurant and watch out for you.”
Aurora shakes her head as she frowns. “That’s not needed. I’m a grown adult. I know how to defend myself.”
“But having us there as backup would make things even more secure.”
“No… not you too. Jax is overprotective enough,” she says before putting her hands on her hips. “I don’t need you looking over my shoulder too. I can handle myself.”
I don’t know why I say the next words. Maybe it’s all my frustration toward my dad bubbling up to the surface. Either way, I know the moment they leave my lips that they’re the wrong ones to say.
“Well, apparently not, given the circumstances.”
As soon as the last syllable crosses my lips, I want to take the words back. Aurora’s expression shutters so fast that it feels like nothing was ever there. She narrows her eyes and looks at me steadily.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Fuck. “I just meant—“
“You know what, no,” she says, waving a hand to halt my words. When she looks back up at me, the hurt in her eyes is clear, and I feel worse than I did before. “I know you’re having a tough time with things, and I get it. But I never expected you, of all people, to be so cruel.”
I need to apologize. I know I do, and I want to, but before I can reach out, Aurora turns and grabs her purse before heading toward the door. The slam of it seems so final, and it makes me grit my teeth.
Somehow, even without being here, my dad has me acting out of control and lashing out at the wrong fucking people. I didn’t mean that shit I said to Aurora—at least, not the way she took it. I’m not happy about that Mark guy, but only because I know she could do so much better.
“Fuck,” I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. I had enjoyed the quiet before, but now it’s too much. And the worst part is, it’s all my own fucking fault. I can only hope Aurora won’t go to Jax and talk about how I’m being just as overprotective, if only because he would be happy about it and probably piss Aurora off even more.
With one last glare at my phone, I push away from the kitchen counter and head to the bathroom.
A hot shower always helps relax my body, but it does nothing to calm my thoughts. I knew this season would come with challenges, but I thought all of them would be out on the ice. I didn’t expect to have issues at home too.
Entwining work and personal life is never a good idea.