Tell me no, Eric. Tell me you want me and to hell with them.
His jaw clenches as he studies my face. Then he looks away from me and into the distance for several moments. When he turns back, he’s got a faraway look in his eyes.
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t need any distractions, I guess. I’m quitting hockey. May as well rip everything away.”
My chest sears with a white-hot pain. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
We stare into each other’s eyes—until I can’t take it anymore.
I shut the door quietly, then lean against the wall to listen to him leave. Five minutes pass before he walks down the steps.
When I go back into the kitchen, Taylor takes one look at my face and opens his arms.
I fall into them and cry silently.
31
Eric
I back out of the parking lot on campus to head home.
Go to class. Go to my parents’. Study. Eat. Sleep. Wake up.
That’s what I’ve been doing for the past two weeks since school started.
Today I have another stop to make. I need to finish getting some things at Hockey House.
As I’m driving down College Avenue, though, I see her, and my heart double-times, a familiar anguish hitting me like a ton of bricks.
I see her dark hair, tinged with gold. It must be . . .
Nope, not her.
I’ve heard about her, though. All of campus has. She started a snowball rolling downhill involving an investigation concerning misconduct at Kappa. At first her story was turned into a joke, as college hijinks and boys being boys.
When other girls came forward, the jokes stopped.
My father is furious about the entire situation. Nothing like that would have happened back in my day, he said. I don’t know if that’s true.
I park at the house and grab the boxes from the back.
Reece’s hand falls on my shoulder when I walk inside. “Well, look who’s back from the dead.”
“Hey. Sorry I haven’t been around.” Or texted him much.
He gives me a disappointed look. “You drop off the face of the Earth. Then Coach tells me you’ve left the team and I’m captain now. I think I deserve a little more than a ‘hey’.”
He deserves a hell of a lot more than that. All the guys do.
They lost their last game without me.
My body feels leaden. “You’re right. I’m just trying to figure out life, yeah? Let me just pack my stuff up.”
“Fine. I need to clean up for the new roommate anyway.”
“New? That didn’t take long.”
“Yeah. Bowers.”
I exhale. Bowers is a good guy. A good player.
“Come in the den. I want you to take a look at something.”
Okay, weird.
“Sure.”
We walk into the den and a blur grabs me by the collar of my coat, spins me around, and envelopes me in a bearhug. “What the—”
I take in the broad-shouldered guy with curly long blond hair. He’s a big dude. He must have been standing in the back, waiting on me to walk into the den.
“Z?” I exclaim in amazement. “Fuck me. Shouldn’t you be in Nashville?”
His grin takes up his whole face. “Yeah, it’s me, asshole. I took a personal day to fly here and talk to you.”
I sputter. “Dude. I’m flattered.”
He pats me, then shoves me in the recliner. “Good. Now that the niceties are done, it’s time to talk.”
Oh.
Boone has entered the den, and he and Reece sit on the couch. Serious expressions are on both their faces.
Z drags a chair from the kitchen and plops it down beside me.
“Uh, is this an intervention?” I ask, bemused that Z is here, but uneasy about having to explain my reasons for quitting the team. It’s terrible to admit when you’ve given up.
Boone nods. “I’ve never seen anyone who needed more intervening than you. Wait. Maybe me when I rushed Kappa.”
I chuckle uncertainly.
“Here. You might need this.” Z hands me a water and I take a long drag, then wipe my face.
He looks me over, his eyes grave. “It’s not really an intervention. Let’s just call it a chat to get a certain player’s head out of his ass.”
I wince. “You didn’t need to come all this way. I’m straight. I’m fine.” I’m not.
I fucking miss hockey.
Reece grimaces. “Eric. Look at yourself. You’ve lost weight. Your eyes are dead. Just explain why you quit and we’ll listen.”
I dip my head and clench my fists to find an anchor. It used to be Julia. She made everything brighter. But without her, things have only spiraled. “My life is about following my dad’s footsteps. Hockey was interfering in achieving that.”
Reece snorts. “Interfering? Fuck me. Hockey is your life.”
Z shushes him. “We need to listen to him. Look, Eric, I understand that these ideas come from your dad, but I know you. You love being on that ice.”
A lump rises in my throat. “Okay, sure. The best part of my life has been on the ice, but that’s coming to an end after this season. This is as far as I was going to go. Pro is a dream I didn’t achieve.”