Tears burn my eyes and piss me off even more. My wife ran back home to mom and dad instead of turning to me.
Through the phone, Ben coughs and clears his throat. “Son…”
Not really. Not anymore. I’m too pissed off, too emotional, to call him on it. None of this is Ben’s fault.
“Yeah.” I sniff away my tears and pinch the bridge of my nose before someone sees. Jason’s been giving me pretty consistent strange looks considering I’ve been in a piss poor mood off the ice and more aggressive than usual on the ice. I don’t need to hear questions I’m not prepared to answer. “Tell her I called at least, would you? Tell her I just want to talk to her.”
And that I love her. It burns, claws at my throat to say but they get stuck, lodged somewhere deep. Because damn it. I do love her. But is what she’s doing loving me? It’s so screwed up I don’t know what’s right side up anymore.
“I’ll tell her. Encourage her to call you back, but I can’t make promises. She’s in a state.”
“Yeah. Aren’t we fuckin’ all? Bye Ben. Take care.”
“You too, Sebastian.”
I end the call. I’m not sure I’ve ever sworn while talking to Ben Ritter and I don’t quite care now, either. Before I can take a second to think about what I’m doing, I pull back my arm and let loose as hard as I can.
My phone goes flying through the hangar, slams against the cement wall at the far end and falls to the floor. Damn case I have on it is so good the thing doesn’t even look broken. At least there’s that.
Saves me a trip to the store.
“George’s.”
I jump at the demand and glare at my teammate over my shoulder. “Not now, Klaus.”
“Oh, yeah, fuck now. We’re all going. Blow off steam tonight before heading home. We’ve earned this night and by the looks of that phone you just sent sailing, you need it more than most.”
“I’m good.” I go to take off, but his hand lands on my shoulder and clamps down.
“No, you’re not. And even if we all have to carry you out of here and throw you in the back of Jude’s truck, you’re coming.”
Klaus Newman and I are the same age, although he was only traded to our team a few years ago. Originally from Sweden, he’s usually a pretty quiet guy. Looks like he’s been working on his bossiness.
I keep glaring at him. There’s a fire burning so hot in my chest it’s amazing I don’t self-combust.
Movement behind him catches my attention.
Shit. Jason and Jude and Sawyer and Byron are all standing there, arms crossed over their chests. Slow growing beards taking shape and hiding their pursed lips. They’re scowling at me, all but Jason who looks more worried.
“I said I’m fine.” I shake off his grip and go to grab my phone and when I get back, Jason has my bag.
“You’re coming. Not kidding around. And you’re not fine.”
“Playing fine, aren’t I?”
In reality, my game is better than ever. All the frustration and anger I’ve had the last month is getting taken out on the ice, in my speed, and abusing my body working out. I’ve scored more goals in the last away stretch than I did the first two months of the season. I’m also spending more time than ever in the sin bin but even Coach can’t get too pissed when I helped the team to four wins out of the last five games. We’re still up in the league by three games. I could not show up for a week and we’d still be in first.
“For now. You keep going balls to the wall like you’ve been doing though and you’re setting yourself up for an injury, and that pisses me off. Hell, you even eating?”
My hands curl into fists. I might not be able to take Jason, but we could go a few rounds before we wear ourselves out. Although that would risk the injury he’s pissed about. I’m also not sure I care much about that, either.
“Back down, Taylor.” He might be one of my best friends. He also might be the only guy on the team who has a hint of why I’m in such a shitty mood off the ice.
Doesn’t mean I won’t take a swing at him, though.
He leans in and lowers his voice. “Come with us. Have a few beers. We’re worried about you, Hendrix, because we give a shit.”
“This whole night out planned for me?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done it. I seem to remember you hauling my ass out, too.”
“Yeah, because you were a dick on the ice.”
“And that swing you took at Thomas today wasn’t you being a dick?”
He has a point. The winger for St. Louis probably didn’t deserve that, but he’d been playing almost as physically as me.
“I show up for a drink, will it get you off my back?”
“Only if you stay for at least two.”
“Seriously not in the mood for this,” I warn him.
Jason grins. Now that he’s happy with Tessa and they’re shacking up together and he’s getting laid on the regular with a woman he loves, he wants that goodness for everyone.
Problem is, when my personal life is imploding around me, I don’t exactly want to be around happy people.
At least Gigi will be there. She’ll let me drink whatever I want at the bar and help me ignore the guys if I want. I’m sure of it.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
The bigger problem is now I’m not sure if I’m agreeing to go to get the guys off my back…
Or if it’s to see Gigi again.
By the time I get to George’s, I’m of half a mind to turn back on Providence Road and keep heading south to my own home. It’s only the reminder that the house is empty and my live-in housekeeper has already taken care of Bruiser for the night that has me triple-guessing myself in the parking lot of George’s, hands wrapped around the steering wheel of my Maserati, glaring at the wooden sign with the faded paint of George’s Bar in bright red.
My team is a great group of guys. After years of most of us playing together, our team is successful in part because there’s been very few changes with trades, only welcoming new players during drafts and time to prove themselves. They’re more like brothers. Their wives and girlfriends immediately welcomed as sisters. All except Madison, even though she was in the beginning.
Unfortunately, the sadder she became, the more upset about our lack of starting our own family, she withdrew when she needed support. And since she refused to allow me to help, allow me to tell anyone what we were going through because she was so embarrassed and upset about it, she continued to withdraw, began refusing to go to team functions with me. I’d had to practically beg her to allow us to throw a New Year’s Party at our home last year, thinking maybe she’d remember how good these people were, how much they cared about us and how much they’d want to help us.
But even that night she barely kissed me when the ball dropped and then disappeared off to our bedroom. She went to bed and the party continued on.
Maybe everything would have been easier had I let them know more earlier. At least then they would have understood. Madison didn’t want the pity and false hope in the beginning. So I tried to keep her away. I tried to keep her happy. I tried to ignore the looks from the team when she started being bitchy and bitter they were all having their own kids and we weren’t. I tried to be accepting when the medicine she took made her hormones fly out of whack. Or when I had the flu and she was ovulating, and she still insisted we had to have sex.