Chapter 31
SADIE
Maverick left today for a stretch of away games, and I already miss him. So much so that I texted Ali on my way home from work, asking if she wanted a night of takeout and trashy television. She agreed, and we ended up gorging on Chinese food and cheap wine at her place.
In between bites of ginger beef, checking in on the game, and yelling at the dating show we’re sort of watching, I brought her up to speed on everything going on between me and Maverick.
Everything except the fact that I’m in love with him. That’s something I feel like I should tell him first.
It’s late by the time we turn off the TV, and after so much wine, I’m easily convinced to just sleep here. When we’re in her bed, Ali shifts onto her side and says, “I’m really happy for you, Sadie.”
I smile at my best friend, the woman who has been with me through so much for so long. “Thanks.”
Ali yawns and rolls over. “And if any of the other Tridents are looking for a lady, you know where to find me.”
As per always, she falls asleep instantly, soft snores coming from her side of the bed. It doesn’t bother me, not after almost twenty years of friendship and more sleepovers than I can count.
I roll onto my side and pick up my phone. There’s two messages from Maverick, and judging by the time, he must have sent them right before his game started.
MAVERICK: Hey Specs. Hope you’re doing okay. If you need anything just call Colin.
I smile in the dark. Always looking out for me in his own gruff way. And his second message, sent a few hours after the first, makes me silently swoon.
MAVERICK: Wish I could kiss you goodnight.
The team is down in Denver playing the Bandits tonight and tomorrow, and it’s only one hour ahead. If he’s asleep, that’s fine, but I can’t go without responding to him.
SADIE: XOXO. I know it’s not the same. I miss your kisses too. Good game tonight!
To my surprise, I see the three dots pop up immediately.
MAVERICK: Can I call you?
I quietly slide out of Ali’s bed and move to the living room, closing her door behind me. Then I reply.
SADIE: Yes
An incoming video call lights up the screen and I nervously pat at my hair before answering.
“Hi.”
One gruff word from him and I’m biting my lower lip, wishing he was here. That he was walking in the door of his apartment instead of being miles away.
“Hi,” I reply quietly, sitting down on the couch and tugging a blanket over my lap.
“Where are you?” he says with a small frown.
“Ali’s. But I fed Cat before I left and I’ll go back early tomorrow.”
“Specs, it’s fine. Cat’s used to me being gone. I can call Ralph tomorrow and ask him to go over if you want to stay with Ali.”
I’m already shaking my head because I don’t want to stay here. It doesn’t feel right, even though I know his apartment will feel so empty without him.
“No. I’m going back there tomorrow; I was going to make omelets with Ralph.”
Surprise crosses his face, followed quickly by a slow smile. “You’re gonna do omelets?”
I nod. “If you think he’d like that.”
“I know he would. He’s been bugging me to bring you over.”
“Then I’ll do it. Just cheese, right?”
“Yeah. Don’t even try to sneak in vegetables.” Maverick’s grinning now. “And Specs?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
MAVERICK: That photo of you and Cat made my day, Specs. Talk tonight?
SADIE: Sorry about last night, can’t believe I fell asleep! Good luck today!
SADIE: That was rough. Hope your shoulder is okay.
MAVERICK: This is fucking ridiculous. I miss you. Fucking time zones.
SADIE: Hey! I’m here, just saw you called. Call me back?
MAVERICK: Hey. Shit, I’m just heading out with the guys for some BP before the game. Call you in a couple hours?
SADIE: Darn I’ll be in a meeting.
SADIE: This sucks.
MAVERICK: I know. I’ll be home soon thank fuck.
SADIE: Miss you.
MAVERICK: Same.
The reality check of dating a professional athlete has hit hard these last few days. I guess I was spoiled when Maverick was still on the injured list; he was home all the time instead of traveling with the team.
But now, he’s back playing, and we’re five days into a weeklong stretch of away games, and I’m hating it.
The first couple days were fine between the night at Ali’s place and breakfast with Ralph, who has to be the sweetest old curmudgeon I’ve ever met.
Honestly, he reminds me a lot of Maverick.
Not that I’d ever tell either of them that.
But they have the same caring, protective, giving nature hidden under a layer of gruff, grumpy vibes.
But coming home from work to an empty apartment and cooking for one, night after night, doesn’t feel the same. Even if only a few weeks ago that was my reality. I miss Maverick.
And these stinking time zones are making it impossible for us to connect. Taking out my phone, I mentally calculate what time it is for him in Minnesota, where they’re playing tonight. He’ll be on the field, but maybe we can connect when he’s back at the hotel.
SADIE: Good luck tonight. I just got home, going to turn on the game and try to find you. Call me later? XOXO.
I set my phone down, go to the bedroom to get changed out of my work clothes, and come back to the living room in time to hear my phone vibrating. Dashing over, hope flaring that maybe he’s not on the field yet, I answer without looking at the screen.
“Maverick?”
A derisive snort meets my breathless greeting. “Not likely. What the hell are you doing, Sadie? How long do you plan on playing this game?”
“Dirk.” My stomach fills with lead. “Why are you calling me?”
I knew I should have blocked his number. What the hell does he want? I sit down on the couch, and Cat hops into my lap, circling a few times before settling in, his weight a small comfort.
“I just told you. I want to know when you’re gonna realize a guy like Maverick King will never be with someone like you for long. Cut your losses and we can talk about trying again.”
My mouth falls open at his arrogance, to say nothing of the cruelty of his words. I stand up, dislodging Cat. I’ll make it up to him with some treats later, but right now I need to move, do something to expel the rage building inside of me.
“Listen to me carefully. You are an asshole,” I hiss, hearing Dirk’s intake of breath at my curse.
“You’re a sniveling, whiny, greedy, rude bastard who’s terrible in bed.
The only reason you’re calling is because you can’t stand the fact that I’m not broken up over you cheating on me.
Well, guess what? I’m grateful you did that.
Because who knows how long I would have stayed with you, suffering through mediocre sex with no orgasms. You did me a favour.
Now I’m with a real man who knows exactly how to take care of me, in and out of the bedroom.
So get this in your little head. I am never coming back to you.
I never want to speak with you again. Goodbye and good riddance. ”
I push the end button, probably a little too hard, and immediately block his number. My heart is pounding, but God, it feels good to have done that.
Turning on the television, I see the game has just started.
Maverick’s not on the field, so I hurry to the kitchen to reheat some food for dinner and feed Cat.
Just as I’m about to return to the couch, there’s a knock on the door.
Checking first, I see Ralph standing in the hall with a container of something in his hands.
I open the door with a smile. “Hello, neighbour, what can I do for you?”
“You watchin’ the game?” he says by way of greeting, and I step aside with a nod.
“Of course, I am. Would you like to join me?”
He stomps inside, and Cat immediately trots over with a meow. Ralph bends down slowly to pet his head before straightening. Yeah, just like Maverick. A total softie.
Ralph looks at me. “Got a fork? I forgot one.”
Hiding my smile, I go to the kitchen and retrieve one, as well as my own dinner, before joining him in the living room. He’s sitting down in the large chair and accepts the fork with a grunt of thanks.
And that’s how I end up watching the Tridents play the Toronto Wolverines with Ralph providing colourful commentary throughout.
He leaves shortly after the game, and once I’ve tidied up from dinner, I wander around aimlessly, staring at my phone more often than necessary, hoping for a call. Finally, an hour after Ralph goes home, it rings.
“Hi!” I say, probably sounding way too excited, but I don’t care.
“Hey.” He chuckles, confirming that, yes, I did sound like an eager beaver. “Did you actually watch the game?”
I pull back the covers and climb into bed with a smile. “Sure did. Ralph came over and we watched together.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yup. He taught me a lot.”
Maverick laughs. “How many times did he shake his fist at the ump’s calls?”
“Every time.”
“Sounds about right.”
I hear sounds of sheets rustling and can’t hide my wistful sigh.
“Two more days, Specs.”
I’m nodding, even though he can’t see me. “I know. Oh, you’ll never guess who called me today.”
“Who?”
“Dirtbag Dirk.”
Immediately, my phone vibrates with a notification to switch to video. I click the accept button, and when Maverick’s face fills the screen, he looks furious.
“Why the fuck is that asshole calling you?” he growls. His anger on my behalf is a turn-on. Or maybe it’s him being shirtless, all those muscles and tattoos on display.
“Hmm?” I try to subtly check I’m not drooling, but I’m busted when Maverick raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh. He was just being his usual gross self. Trying to tell me you’d never want me long-term and I should go back to him.”
As I say the words myself, I’m pleasantly surprised at how easily I dismiss them. The truth is, even if Maverick and I don’t last, I would never ever go back to Dirk. Because the man on the other end of the phone line has made me realize I deserve so much better than Dirk ever gave me.
“Specs. Don’t fucking listen to him. Don’t answer his calls.
He’s a lying sack of shit who’s a goddamn baby throwing a tantrum because he lost his favourite toy.
” Maverick’s words drip with contempt. “What happens between us is none of his fucking business. I swear to God, he does not deserve to even breathe the same air as you. And if he comes near you again, I’m gonna make it so he never can. ”
“Easy, tiger,” I say, smiling at his glowering face. “I already told him to get stuffed and blocked his number. I don’t believe a word he said.”
I watch him sag back against the headboard of his hotel room bed.
“Good. Fuck, I wish I’d been there with you when he called.” He runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and I wish it was my fingers tangling in the strands, not his.
“You can’t fight all my battles,” I say quietly. “But thank you for wanting to.”
“I’m not some knight in shining armor,” he says gruffly.
“I know. But you are a good man.”
He drops his gaze for a second before looking back up at me through the screen. “I want to be. For you.”
It takes a monumental feat of strength not to blurt out that I love him in that moment. But somehow, I resist.
For now.