Because Sebastian Hendrix is looking at me, smiling softly and sweetly. And I’ve done that for him.
“Is that a compliment?” I ask, teasing.
He laughs and shakes his head before swiping a hand through his hair. “Very much so.”
Chapter Nine
Sebastian
It’s been two days since I phoned Ben. Thirty-six hours since I spent the day with Gigi, the first woman I’ve spent time alone with in my life who isn’t either related to me or my wife.
I’m unsettled. Beneath my skin there’s an incessant, needling itchy sensation I haven’t been able to ignore.
I like Gigi.
And I’m still married.
What kind of man does that make me?
Regardless of how much I’ve tried, I can’t forget Gigi’s easy manner on our hike. How I spent six hours with her, hiking up that mountain, back down. We stopped and grabbed dinner on the drive back to her apartment where she left me in that alley.
It’d taken restraint not to follow her inside and take a seat at the bar while she worked.
It was that desire that forced me to thank her for the day, hoping I ended it much less awkward than the other times I’ve walked away from her and get back into my car where I went home and fed Bruiser.
I took him out to the backyard pool area, tossed the ball around and afterward, blow-dried him so he wasn’t soaking wet when I brought him to my bed. He then proceeded to do his three-circle spin move before plopping down on Madison’s pillow.
Now I’m in the hallway at Pittsburgh’s ice arena, headphones in my ears, pacing the hallway and trying to ignore the clatter of pre-game rituals going on around me.
As soon as we got on the plane, Jason glared at me. He’s pissed. Probably hurt. I never returned his call. I have to deal with that before the puck drops. There’s no way we can beat Pittsburgh if we’re not playing together as a team.
I need more time. A few more minutes to get my head on straight. Jason can’t help me with that.
Only Madison can.
Which means, I need to do something I should have done weeks ago.
I have to go to her. I deserve an in-person answer if she’s walking away from our marriage or to give it one last chance to see if there’s anything worth salvaging.
Ripping off my headphones, I head back to the visitor locker room where all of our gear is stored. Jerseys are neatly hung, pads ready to go and skates tucked in the bins below. Our sticks are already out by the entrance to our bench on the ice, multiple extras in case we break one or two.
As soon as I’m about to open the door, it comes slamming toward me, making me jump back and out of the way. Jason’s in the doorway, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with sweat clinging to his chest which means he’s spent the last half an hour since we arrived running the bleachers to warm up like he usually does.
“We need to talk.”
“I know,” I respond immediately, ignoring his glare. “Come with me while I go talk to Coach.”
“Coach?”
“Yeah. Is Tessa on the trip with us, or is it Sylvia this week?”
We’re starting a four-game away stretch. Sylvia is our regular travel director and earlier in the season she hired Tessa to be her assistant. One or both of them travel to most of our away games, especially when we have stops in multiple cities. They take care of everything for us, so all we have to do is take care of ourselves and focus on the game.
“Tessa is, but that’s not telling me anything—”
“I need to make a flight plan.”
“For what?”
I’m almost to Coach Wood’s office, so I don’t answer. Instead, I rap my fist on the window where I can see him scribbling down notes on a notepad he always has with him. Our assistant coaches tap wildly on their iPads, nodding and listening.
At my knock on the window, he looks up, waves me in before ushering the other coaches out.
“Hendrix. Taylor. What’s going on?”
“No clue,” Jason says. He wears a scowl well. He’s getting impatient with me and I get it. But I’m only going to say this once.
“I need a few days off after this game, Coach.”
“What the hell’d you say to me?”
“A few days. Maybe only two. I have a personal matter I need to look into.”
“We just had two days off,” he says. “And do you have any idea what this means for the team without you?”
“I know, and I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“Someone dying?” he asks, and he doesn’t say it to be an ass, he’s just blunt. Coach cares for us which is why I know he’ll give this to me, why I know the team will support me.
We’re family, and I’ve forgotten that recently.
“My marriage.” Coach’s eyes widen. I push on even though vomit pools in my throat. It fucking hurts to admit it. “Madison left me and went back to Minnesota. Won’t talk to me. I just… I need to get focused and in order to do that, I have to go talk to her. She just left, over the holidays. Didn’t give me any warning and then served me divorce papers. She won’t take my calls… I need this,” I say after a pause.
Anger and embarrassment clog my throat. The looks they’re giving me are only part of the reason why I haven’t wanted to say anything.
“Damn, son. Hendrix, I get that, but…”
Next to me, Jason has gone strung tight too. They deserve to know everything. “Please, Coach. I’m hanging on by a thread. We, well, Madison and I, we’ve been trying to have a baby, and it hasn’t worked. For years. News got worse back in December and she left. Now she won’t respond to anything I do, calls or texts, and the other night I tried her dad, and he’s holding up to what she wants.”
“Hendrix—”
I can see the pain in his eyes. Feel it coming from Jason. Probably mixed with anger, too, but at this point, I’m done hiding what’s going on because of Madison’s wishes. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long.
“She’s struggled, sir. Struggled a lot. I’m worried about her… emotionally. Mentally. I have to see her. See how she is, see if there’s a way to fix this or repair this. She runs from getting help from doctors to see about helping her cope with all this and now I’m just fucking scared for her.”
It’s not the first time she’s shut me out like this. The last time she did it she cried for three days and then turned into a walking zombie where I was so damn concerned I called a doctor for her. She refused the help. I hid the knives and any strong pain meds I was that worried.
Madison not being somewhere where I can see she still has a damn pulse is eating a hole in my gut.
“You know you have my love, son,” Coach says, and I almost smile despite the fear and pain I’ve only allowed others to have a glimpse of. Of how bad it’s truly, really been lately. “You always have my love. How long you talking?”
And like that, I have his approval.
“Couple days. Minimum. I won’t know for sure until I see her, tomorrow if I leave after the game tonight. I can meet you at the game in Dallas.”
That’s four days away. Missing our second game here in Philly before we head south.