Chapter 13
Losing hockey games was never any fun. And while pre-season games counted for virtually nothing, it was hard not to notice the toll our losing record was having on morale.
The rookies were nervous, the veterans frustrated.
Jay and I did our best to encourage and calm everyone in the locker room, but it was increasingly feeling like a pointless exercise.
Most coaches would look at a skid like this in the pre-season as an opportunity to change it up, try out some prospects, play around with the lines.
But Dillion seemed stubbornly determined to stick to the original playbook.
I couldn’t understand it—we were already getting our asses kicked out there.
Why not shake things up to see what happened?
Things at home weren’t a whole lot better.
Chloe had actually called Josie back at the beginning of the week.
Instead of easing our daughter’s bad mood, the phone call only seemed to make it worse.
Josie retreated into herself even more, rarely talking to me unless I pressed.
She’d even stopped talking about the dog I’d promised to get her, brushing me off whenever I brought it up.
Even more worrying, she was pulling back from Evelyn and Peter as well. Both reported that she was quiet and distant after school.
After three days of this, Evelyn finally got Josie to tell her about the phone call with Chloe. Apparently, Josie had asked her when she might visit and Chloe had blown her off. Of course she did. And now our daughter was reeling all over again, wondering when she was going to see her mother.
I was worried sick about her.
So life was shitty at the rink and life was shitty at home. About the only thing I seemed to have going for me that week was my nightly phone calls with Grace.
Talking to her the night of our first pre-season game had been both exciting and painful.
Hearing her voice in my ear while I sat alone in a depressing hotel room was a luxury I had never thought to dream about.
After our kiss, I had been afraid she was going to shut down on me.
Instead, she finally seemed to be getting comfortable with me, teasing and joking around right back just the way she used to.
I hadn’t realized how much I was dreading that she might regret the kiss.
God knew that I didn’t regret it, not for a second.
It had only been a light brush of my lips over hers, a fleeting moment of closeness, but I fucking relished it.
I would never admit this to anyone for fear of being branded a pussy for life, but the truth was, kissing Gracie felt like coming home.
And I spent a worrying amount of my free time trying to figure out how to convince her to do it again as soon as possible.
Then she had to go and mention her foodie friend Greg.
Greg. What a stupid name. The idea that she might be dating some asshole burned a hot hole of anger straight into my gut.
She told me that he worked for Andy, like that was supposed to be some big relief.
In actuality, it only made me feel worse.
That was probably the type of guy she was supposed to be with—someone smart and successful just like her brother.
God knew Andy would prefer she end up with a guy like that.
Shit, he’d probably prefer she end up with just about anyone over me.
I had gotten her to admit that she’d missed me over the years, so I guessed that was something. And when she agreed that we could at least be friends, I knew I wasn’t out of the game quite yet.
But there was no way in hell I was stopping at friendship.
I didn’t call her the next day, not wanting to come across as overly eager.
The reality was that I was having a hard time thinking about anything but her.
About the way her cheek had felt under my hand when I cupped her face, the way her body had seemed to melt into mine when I pulled her close.
God, I wanted to kiss her again. Every day if I could.
And then I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than kiss her.
It was like being a teenager all over again, the way my dick was constantly aching for the red-headed girl just out of my reach.
Jay hadn’t really been exaggerating when he said I’d been living like a monk since the divorce.
There was the occasional random hookup here and there, nothing more.
And honestly, I’d been too busy with hockey and Josie to even mind the long dry spells all that much.
But now my dick seemed to think we were getting a second chance with the gorgeous girl I’d spent countless hours fantasizing about. He was wide awake and cursing every minute that we spent away from her curvy body and plush pink lips.
I called Grace for the second time after our next loss, once again using the excuse that I needed to be cheered up. She told me funny stories about her students and made no mention of Greg or any other asshole. So far so good.
After Evelyn told me about Josie’s phone call with her mother, I called Gracie again. But this time it wasn’t to try to score any points or wheedle my way closer. I needed her to know that Josie was more down than usual and to let me know if anything happened in school to be concerned about.
She’d been sympathetic and encouraging. And I found that talking to her when I was worried about my kid had the same effect as talking to her after a shitty game—she cheered me up.
I felt calmer with her sweet, soft voice in my ear, less despondent.
When she promised me that she’d spend some extra time chatting with my girl at school, I wanted to kiss her for an entirely different reason.
The third time I called her, I had come up with the perfect excuse.
She’d told me that she loved finding new restaurants in Austin, so what better person to give me advice in picking a place to drag Jay and some of the other guys on the team for lunch on his birthday?
She’d given me a list of nearly a dozen suggestions and then went over each in painstaking detail, helping me to narrow it down.
It reminded me so much of our tutoring days. Gracie had always been detail orientated, and I found it fucking adorable. She was incredibly dorky when you got her started on one of her favorite topics—books, environmental policies, Model UN. And now, apparently, restaurants.
She could have blathered on about anything, honestly, and I still would have sat there happily listening, picturing her pretty green eyes lit up with excitement and the way she’d absentmindedly twist a wayward curl around her thumb.
A full week after our first call, I decided it was well-past time to ask to see her again.
I had a solid game plan—a local movie theater was putting on a special screening of Casablanca.
Back in high school, I had once admitted to Gracie that I’d never seen the film and she had been horrified.
She’d insisted that we rectify my failure as soon as possible.
But it had been in the middle of the hockey season and things were busy.
We’d put it off for a few weeks and eventually forgot about it.
But every so often, I had mentioned to Gracie that I still hadn’t seen it, just to get a rise out of her.
She never disappointed— she would tsk and shake her head at me, bemoaning my lack of “cinematic literacy.”
Why her scolding turned teenage me on so much, I have no idea.
She picked up on the first ring, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d had her phone close by in anticipation of my call. The thought had me smiling.
“So, listen,” I’d said after we went through the normal rundown of our days and she’d asked how Josie was holding up (a little better.
I’d actually heard her laughing at something Peter said when I walked in on the middle of their dinner that night).
“Remember how you were always so pissed that I’d never seen Casablanca? ”
She made a sniffing sound. “I’m still so disappointed in you for that. Tell me at some point in the last twelve years you’ve taken the time to watch the greatest movie ever made.”
I chuckled softly. “You think I was going to watch it without you?”
That had her going silent, but it was the honest truth. I’d flipped past it a number of times on the old movie channels and considered watching it. But I’d always end up changing my mind. It just brought up too many memories I wasn’t sure I wanted to be thinking about.
Now, though, I was absolutely ready to embrace the past.
“It’s playing next weekend,” I told her. “At the Alamo Drafthouse. I think I can get Josie’s grandparents to babysit. What do you say?”
She was quiet and I pictured her biting her lip while she thought about it. “You don’t have a game?” she finally asked.
“Nope, we have two days off. Perfect time to see a movie. And maybe grab some dinner?” I didn’t bother to hide the hopeful note in my voice. I wanted her to know how much I wanted this.
“I’m not sure, Liam,” she finally said, and I could hear how conflicted she was.
“Why not? You’re the one who always said it was a travesty that I hadn’t seen it. Here’s your chance to right that wrong.”
“Okay, but what if someone sees us?”
I stared at my blank bedroom wall, confused. “Who the hell is going to see us? And why would they care?”
“What if another teacher saw us? Or a parent? Alamo Drafthouse is super popular you know.”
It stung a little, that she was so worried about being seen with me. I knew she was just considering her job, but it still rankled. It made me feel like I was the stupid jock that she was far too good for all over again.
“If we see someone you think might get the wrong idea, just tell them that I’m an old friend from Minnesota. Who’s going to care?”
“Hey,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, you know?”