9. Drew
NINE
DREW
Coming back home after being on the road is the best feeling. We have a rest day tomorrow so the first thing I do as soon as we get back is head to my parents house to get Bailey. Either Lavinia or my parents watch her while I’m travelling.
I see her through the window in the door as soon as I slot my key in through the key hole. Her paws are tapping on the floor, tongue lolling out in excitement. As soon as I walk through the door, she jumps on me, her front paws resting on my chest.
“Hey, girl. I missed you, too.” I hug her, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her scruff. Now I feel like I’m truly home. I’m looking forward to having the summer off so I can spend more time with my child. I feel terrible every time I have to leave her.
“She gets so sad when you’re gone.”
I look up and see dad walking out of the den. He’s got his glasses in one hand so I assume he was reading or watching something in there.
“Thanks for watching her.”
“You know we enjoy having her here,” Dad says. “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head. Our plane landed from Seattle about an hour ago and I came straight here to get Bailey.
“Come on, I’ll make you a sandwich.” Dad heads toward the kitchen. I want to deny his offer, but I already know what’s waiting for me at home. An empty fridge because I’ve been gone for two weeks. At least this way, I’ll have the energy to shop before heading home.
“That sounds great, thanks.” Bailey follows me into the kitchen. Dad is already pulling out ingredients for the sandwich and I brace myself for discussing our games while I watch him assemble the sandwich.
“How are you doing?” Dad asks, his focus on the food. “You mom said your shoulder was bothering again.”
I flinch at the betrayal I hear in his voice. I only told mom because she called me right as I was going into a session with the team’s physical therapist. It’s not like I’m picking and choosing between my parents.
“Yeah, it was, but the PT has me doing more exercise between the games so it’s a lot better now.”
Injuries are common in any sport. Being a professional athlete means I’m always pushing my body to its limits, so I always listen to what the team doctors and physical therapist tell me, or try to, at least. I can’t drop my responsibility to the team, not while we’re in the playoffs.
“You didn’t mention it the last time we spoke.” Dad carries our plates to the table and sets mine down in front of me.
“It slipped my mind. It’s not like I’m hiding it from you.” I get up to quickly wash my hands before taking my seat again. Bailey sets her head on my lap, her big brown eyes looking at me like I’m going to disappear.
Dad peers at me closely, his blue eyes all knowing. “Are you sure about that?”
I try not to shift uncomfortably. Right now, I feel less like a man in my early thirties and more like a kid.
We used to sit at this very table after every test result in school.
I’d do my best not to quaver, not feel like an utter disappointment, especially when I compared my Bs, Cs, and Ds, against Lavinia’s As.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s all part of the job, right?” He should know that better than anyone.
“I still want you to tell me if you’re injured. Just because I know the game doesn’t mean I worry less,” he says gruffly.
I nod, taking a bite of the sandwich.
“Anything else you’re hiding from me? Anything happening in your life I should know about?” Dad bites into his own sandwich but his eyes remain on me.
“Dad, it’s not like I’m trying to keep secrets from you.”
He sighs. “You’ll know how I feel when your kids become adults and you become a secondary character in their life. There was a time when you’d share everything with me, no matter how small.”
He looks almost despondent and I hate that my father thinks I’ve distanced myself from him. I have the best parents. Whatever my issues, I know I’m damn lucky.
“There’s nothing to tell, Dad, really,” I insist. “I go to practice, I play, I come home, I spend time with Bailey.”
Dad sits back against his chair, measuring me with his discerning gaze. “Maybe you need to change that. Have you considered dating?”
I groan, standing up to grab two waters from the fridge. “Why is everyone obsessed with the idea of me dating? First Lavinia, now you.”
“We’re not saying you need to have a partner, but don’t you think you should try before you give up?”
I hate to admit he has a point. I’ve given up on dating even before giving it a true chance. My last relationship was five years ago and it ended because I was never around. There are women who love the idea of dating a hockey player but the insane travel schedule isn’t for everyone.
“I haven’t met anyone I want to date.”
“Have you tried to meet someone you want to date?” Dad asks.
“Not lately,” I admit.
“Maybe you need to change that. You’re not going to find anyone by not trying.”
It’s easier said than done when I feel like everyone I talk to is looking for entirely different things in life. Wouldn’t it be easy if you reached a certain age the universe just directed you to the person you’re meant to be with?
Team dinners are mandatory. It’s a tradition started well before our times and the guys are more than happy to carry it on. Them more than me, sometimes. The last time I didn’t show up, they came to my house. Boundaries? These guys don’t know what that means.
Tonight’s dinner was supposed to be hosted by Ford, but since Roman and Lavinia live in the same building, Roman is now doing the hosting. He’s travelled half the world and picked up cooking skills from each place he’s visited. So dinner is a culinary experience.
I walk into the brightly lit lobby of their building, my eyes instantly going to the reception desk.
There’s a woman standing there, talking to the doorman.
Her blonde hair is twisted in a bun and she’s wearing a long black dress which hugs every curve of her body paired with heels so high, she’ll surely be using them to seduce her enemies.
I feel a strange stirring of interest in the pit of my stomach, something I haven’t felt for a long time. The interest dissipates, quickly replaced by horror, when I hear her laugh. It’s bright and bubbly, filling up the empty lobby.
Fucking hell. Not her again. Why the fuck am I suddenly interested in her of all the women in the world?
Juliet turns towards the elevators and I have to keep my eyes straight so they don’t accidentally drop to the curve of her ass as she sashays away.
I get to the elevator at the same time as her and she glances up, her smile dropping slightly. Her lips are a bright red and when she raises her hair to straighten a stray piece of hair, I notice her nails are the same color.
“Andrew.”
“Juliet.”
I press the button to call the elevator.
“We’re having girls night,” Jules explains.
“Lavinia mentioned it.”
A few months ago, Roman bought a whole ass burlesque bar for Lavinia called The Velvet Vixen. Whenever we have team dinners, the girls—Jules, Lavinia, Sage, and Elena—all go to The Velvet Vixen for girls night.
The elevator opens with a ding and we step inside.
Her scent surrounds me in the small space, fresh, woody, and floral.
I wonder if I can hold my breath for the entire elevator ride.
Surely she doesn’t expect me to talk? I glance at her and notice the chain around her slender neck, the pendant nestled between the valley of her breasts.
Don’t fucking look at her tits!
I shift my eyes to the elevator door just as the elevator groans and comes to a sudden halt.
Jules looks at me, wide-eyed. “Andrew.”
“It’s not like I caused the elevator to break.” Being stuck in an elevator isn’t exactly my idea of fun. I press the button for Lavinia’s floor again, hoping it’s only a small technical issue. Nothing happens. I press it again.
“If it didn’t work once, I doubt it’s going to work if you keep pressing it,” Jules says, her voice sharp and panicked.
I ignore her and press the emergency button which connects to the front desk.
“You’ve reached the front desk. This is Anthony.”
“Anthony, this is Drew Callahan. We’re stuck in the elevator on the eleventh floor.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Callahan. I’ll call for service right now. Is everyone okay? Do you need emergency services?”
I glance at Jules and find her standing right behind me, close enough to touch. Her eyes are as blue as the deepest ocean. She looks a little pale and I raise my eyebrows in question.
“I’m fine,” she says.
I turn back. “We don’t need emergency services. Can you call the Maddox’s and let them know we're stuck?”
“I’m on it.”
I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans and lean back against the elevator wall. Jules shifts restlessly next to me, the silence between us loud in the small space. She tries to press herself as far away from me as possible.
I turn to look at her and find her eyes focused on the floor.
“You’re not claustrophobic, are you?” I ask.
“Why? Are you planning on more ways to kill me?”
I roll my eyes. “No, it mostly has to do with the metal coffin in which we’re trapped.”
“Aha, so you admit death is on your mind.”
I sigh and look away from her. Ignoring her while we’re trapped will be the best thing for my peace of mind. But the one thing I’ve never been able to do with success is ignore her.
My eyes drop down to her as she shifts restlessly on her feet.
“It’s probably going to be a long wait,” I tell her. “You might as well relax.”
“I’m not going to sit on a dirty elevator floor.”
“Are you sure you can remain on your feet for that long?” I look doubtfully at her heels. They make her legs look miles long but can’t be that comfortable.
“I’m not going barefoot in the elevator, either.” She crosses her arms, looking away with a pout.
“Mr. Callahan?” Anthony is back. “I’ve called the maintenance company. They said they’ll try to be here in an hour. I’ve also called your sister’s apartment and told them you’re stuck.”
“Thank you, Anthony.”