Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
COLBY
My phone vibrates from where I’ve left it on the couch cushion beside me, lighting up the screen to display the long list of notifications I’m ignoring. There are emails requesting interviews, and messages from my teammates wishing me luck for the combine.
The latest one is a reminder that I need to pack my bag because I’m leaving for Buffalo tomorrow with my mom.
I’m sure for everyone else, attending the NHL draft combine is an exciting thing.
A milestone moment knowing you’re one of the top 90 draft-eligible players and will get the opportunity to make a lasting impression on scouts and teams as you undergo various medical and fitness tests, along with being interviewed by teams.
But me? I don’t feel excited, or nervous, or, well, anything.
All I feel is numb, and that hasn’t changed in two weeks since I last saw Tyler at his graduation.
The thing is, I’m not even mad at him. I wasn’t expecting it to be as simple as him telling his dad that he doesn’t want to work for him anymore.
The guy is a major asshole, and based on the brief interaction I saw, he seems like a textbook narcissist. So I’m not surprised that Tyler’s head was a mess, but I am surprised by the way he shut me out.
And while I understand what he needs to do and why he needs to do it, it still hurt.
A lot.
I finished the rest of my semester in a blur, and then I said goodbye to Stassie before my parents picked me up and brought me back home to Maine.
I’m pretty sure they know something’s happened because of the way I went all quiet and red-faced when they asked me on the drive home about Tyler.
They’ve never asked me point-blank if he’s my boyfriend, but they also aren’t easily fooled.
They would’ve been able to see when Tyler came for lunch with us in Tampa.
But luckily, they haven’t pressed me about it.
They’ve left me to do my own thing, which consists of three workouts a day in the gym my dad set up in the garage and molding the couch cushions to my exact measurements in between.
My sister, on the other hand? She’s been home for four days, and I’m starting to sense she’s had enough of me trying to become at one with the couch, especially when Callie walks into the living room and stops at the edge of the couch.
Keeping my eyes fixed on the TV, I don’t move a muscle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her cross her arms over her chest, and then she lets out a disgruntled huff.
“Come on, Colby,” she whines, picking up a cushion and throwing it at me. I still don’t move when it smacks me in the face. “I can’t handle your sad puppy face anymore. We’re going out.”
“I don’t want to go out,” I grumble.
“I don’t care,” she argues.
Rounding the couch, she lifts the cushion off my face and gives me a stern look. I’m sure it makes the people she works with back in New York bow to her every word, but the bossy side of Callie’s personality has never had any effect on me, much to her dismay while we were growing up.
“I haven’t taken time off work to watch you mope around. So, come on, you have five minutes to change, otherwise I’m dragging you out in these ratty old pajamas,” she orders, and I grunt when she smacks me on the head with the cushion again.
“Fine,” I mutter, holding my hands up when she raises the cushion to hit me a third time. “Put the cushion down, or I’m going to tell Mom you were the one who broke her favorite vase because you thought it would be a good idea to sing into your hairbrush on the dining table.”
Callie gasps. “You would never.”
Sitting up, I snatch the cushion from her grip and toss it over the back of the couch. She goes to grab another, but I quickly stand and rush down the hall to my room as her footsteps echo behind me. I slam the door and flick the lock before she can push her way in.
“You better be getting dressed, Colby, I mean it. I’m not afraid to climb up through your window,” she calls out through the door, slapping her hand against the wood.
For the first time in two weeks, I find myself smiling. She might be seven years older than me, but we’ve always had a strong relationship.
I take the world’s quickest shower, then get dressed in some shorts and a T-shirt and shove my feet into my favorite Vans. I swing open the door again and find Callie standing there, her arms crossed against her chest.
“You could have at least combed your hair,” she says with a jut of her chin. “We’re not going to a scarecrow convention.”
Rolling my eyes, I head back into my en suite and comb my hair. It’s getting long and unruly, but I don’t care.
I don’t really care about anything right now, and that scares me a little.
“Is this better, Mom?” I say mockingly as I peer my head around the door, but then my breath gets stuck in my throat when I see what Callie is holding.
The strip of photos from the arcade in Boston.
“What are you doing?” I ask quietly.
Callie glances over at me, her face pinched in a sad smile. “This is him, isn’t it? Tyler?”
When I don’t say anything, she looks back at the photos, her voice soft as she says, “I was gutted I didn’t get to meet him in Tampa. Mom and Dad seemed to really like him. They wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks after.”
My mouth turns sour, and I clench my teeth to try and prevent the lump from growing in the back of my throat.
Callie carefully places the photos back on my dresser, then closes the distance between us. She reaches up to do something with my hair, then offers me a small smile.
“How about we go into Portland for a few hours? We can get some tacos, then grab an ice cream on the waterfront?” she asks, then holds up her hand before I can answer.
“And yes, I know you have the combine in a few days, but we both know you’re going to be working out more than what you need to, so you’ll soon burn it off. ”
I should say no because I’m about to put myself through one of the most challenging days, both physically and mentally, and having tacos and ice cream will break my carefully constructed routine.
But deep down, I know I need this time with my sister, who I only get to see a few times a year.
And I need it to stop me from wallowing in self-pity over Tyler.
I run a hand through my hair, trying to act like I’m unbothered by her suggestion.
“I guess. Only if you’re paying.”
She swats me on the chest with the back of her hand.
“Ow!” I yelp. “What was that for? I was only joking.”
“I was going to pay anyway, asshole,” she grumbles, then turns on her heel and talks over her shoulder as she leaves my room. “Just remember, you’re going to owe me a lot of dinners when you’re making millions, and I’m going to make sure you take me to some really expensive restaurants.”
Biting back a smile, I follow my sister through the house, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
If Callie notices I’m quiet as she drives us into the city, she doesn’t say anything. I stare out the window, watching the world pass by, and I can’t stop my mind from straying to Tyler, like it often does when I’m not torturing myself in the gym.
What’s he doing right now? Has he managed to talk some sense into his dad?
Is he doing okay?
My hand moves to my pocket, but then I remember I left my phone at home on the couch. It’s not like I need it anyway. The only people who need to reach me can get hold of me through Callie, and it’s not like I’m going to hear from Tyler.
He sent a text once I got back to my room after the ceremony, then again before he boarded his flight the following day, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply.
Because what was left to say? Nothing was going to make it hurt any less.
But now two weeks have gone by, and I’m starting to wonder if the silence means something else.
I want to message him and tell him how much I miss him and how I still want us to be together, but what good would that do? It’ll only cause pain if he hasn’t found a solution to his problems yet.
As much as it hurts to be in this weird stage of unknown, I have to trust that Tyler will reach out when he’s ready, and until then, I have to be patient.
Callie parks her car, and we walk along the familiar sidewalk toward our favorite restaurant. We’ve been coming here since we were kids, and they do the best tacos I’ve ever tasted.
The moment I open the door, I’m hit with the smell of good food, and my stomach lets out a loud rumble.
With it being midafternoon, it’s not too busy, so we slide into a booth on the far side and take a look at the menu. Not that we need to because we order the same thing every time.
Two of everything in crispy taco shells and a side of avocado fries to share.
Callie looks up at me with a playful grin on her face. “Are we having our usual?”
“Obviously,” I reply with a soft chuckle.
Once she places our order and the server comes back with our drinks, I settle back in my seat.
My gaze drifts around the restaurant, bouncing from the other guests and making note of their body language before spotting a pride flag hanging above the bar.
It reminds me of the bar in Salem, with the bunting showing off different flags, and where Tyler played and I fell in love with him even more.
A deep ache bursts in my chest, spreading through me like it’s digging its roots into my body. I lift my hand, idly rubbing over my sternum, trying to ease away the pain.
Is he feeling the same as me?
Does he also struggle to remember what it felt like to live before I asked him to take my virginity?
Fuck, I know I should text him. To just let him know I miss him. But every time I type out those three words, I get this feeling in my gut that I’m overstepping.
He asked for time, so I need to respect that.
Like my sister can sense the war brewing in my brain, Callie rests her forearms on the table and inches forward.
“Will you tell me about him?” she asks, her voice quiet.
My pulse drums in my ears when my eyes meet hers.
“What do you want to know?”
She glances over her shoulder, subtly checking to see if anyone is listening in on our conversation before she asks, “What’s he like? Dad only mentioned how good he is on the ice, and Mom said he’s charming, but I want to hear about him from you.”
Focusing on a grain in the wood table, I find myself smiling as Tyler appears in my mind, with his easygoing grin and the way he would look at me like he adored me.
“He’s fun, and caring, and has the kindest heart I’ve ever known.
He can sing too, and he plays the guitar.
He’s really good. His voice is, like, sexy and husky, and the first time he sang to me, I thought I was going to die because it was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen, even though he was singing a sad song.
” I bite on my cheek to stop myself grinning.
“He’s also fiercely protective of me and almost got himself in trouble after the regionals because he got in a reporter’s face who tried to speak to me. ”
“No way! Really?” Callie grins. “What did he do?”
I let out a quiet laugh under my breath, remembering that night as we walked back to the bus after we won.
How was it nearly two months ago already? I don’t know where the time’s gone.
“He called them out for harassing players and how it isn’t normal to follow people when they can get what they need through the team’s press office.”
My sister covers her mouth with her hand as she giggles, eyes glistening with amusement. “Stop! That’s hilarious.”
Smiling, I shake my head and look down at the table. I run my fingertip through the condensation forming on the glass of my soda.
There are so many more things I could say about Tyler, but none of them are things to talk about with your sister.
Like the way he encourages me to be open about my wants and desires when it comes to sex and how patient he is with me.
He’s never once made me feel embarrassed about being a virgin or forced me to do something I wasn’t ready for, and that when we’re together, he makes me feel alive and like anything is possible.
“You feel safe with him,” Callie says, more in observation than a question.
Wordlessly, I nod, and my sister sighs.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s going to work out.
You’re both going through some big life changes, and that can throw up a lot of strange emotions.
I know I was a mess when I graduated from college, and it took me a little while to find my feet again, but I did.
” She reaches over the table and gives my wrist a squeeze.
“You just need to have faith in the love you have for each other. If it can withstand this time apart while you navigate this new chapter, then it’ll withstand anything. ”
Tugging my top lip between my teeth, I blink the sting away from my eyes, then pick up my drink. I know she’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
“When did you become all wisdom…ish?” I murmur before taking a sip of my soda.
She cackles. “That’s not a word, and I made a group of friends at a paint-and-sip event in Brooklyn, and one of them is like a love guru, I swear. Whenever one of us has a problem, we go to her for advice, and it’s like magic.”
I smile at her from behind my glass. Warmth spreads through my chest at knowing she has good people around her.
“Will you come and see me if I play in New York?”
Her eyes widen as her mouth drops open. “Duh! Of course I will, silly. You better buy me seats at center ice. I’m going to make a sign and everything.”
“Please don’t,” I groan. “You sound just like Tyler. He wants to do the same thing.”
Clapping her hands once, she tips her head back and laughs. “Great! I can’t wait to meet him at your first home game, and we can make our signs together. It’s going to be amazing.”
Despite the glare I send my sister over the table, I can’t stop the wide grin that takes over my face.
Everything is going to work out eventually.
I just need to be patient.