Page 64
Story: Flock And Roll
“And I have a cousin in Denver that’s been in his bed. I guess he flocked her as well.”
My gut tugged, and beads of perspiration pebbled on my top lip. Hearing those words just about tore my heart out. They were talking about my friend. About the man who’d rocked my worldonly nights ago. The one I couldn’t get out of my head or my heart.
I didn’t want to hear what they were saying. Didn’t want to know. But was I really surprised? I was under no illusion about Brody’s past, but I couldn’t be on a team with someone whose friends or family had “flocked” the guyIwanted to flock.
Ignoring another burst of conversation, I skated back out to the arena. Only a few stragglers remained, Mr. Millan being one of them, but I still couldn’t see Brody. Where the hell was he? I completed a circuit of the track before heading back toward the parking lot.
A cry of “Rowena” followed me. It was Millan. But I didn’t have time to chat. I needed to find Brody. Get some answers.
I stepped over the lip of the door. The heat of the day barreled into me like a freight train. My front wheels hit a stone, and I skittered a little, holding onto the wall for support. Why had I thought keeping my skates on was a good idea? I guess I could blame extenuating circumstances, but a perfectly good pair of sneakers sat in the bottom of my bag.
I dug a hand deep inside my tote, searching for my kicks, but something on the other side of the lot grabbed my attention. Leaning in, I squinted into the sunlight.
It was Brody. He stood next to his blue Mustang, deep in conversation with someone. He flung his arms wide as if describing something, but when the other person shook their head, a deep-red mass of curls followed it.
All the breath left my body. It was the same woman he’d met in Tuft Swallow. The touchy-feely one with the perfect skin. I stepped back into the doorway, out of sight. I didn’t want Brody to think I was keeping tabs on who he talked to. And that’s all they were really doing, right? Chatting. Just like before. Still, I couldn’t lose the burn in my throat at seeing him with another woman.
I watched them for what felt like a lifetime. His brow furrowed, and his shoulders slumped as she patted his arm. I mean, it was all very PG, but the minute he brought his eyes up to meet hers and she reached out and touched him, a wave of nausea crashed over me.
I sucked in a shuddering breath, holding it tight in my throat, willing the bile pooling in my mouth to stay in my stomach. I wanted to scream out. Tell him to fight her off, but he threaded his arms around the woman’s body and pulled her into a tight hug.
What the actual hell? Brody.MyBrody was holding another woman the way he’d held me less than twenty-four hours ago. On the same day we were supposed to finally talk about our feelings for each other. I could sprint over and pry the two of them apart. After all he’d said, surely he couldn’t want her? But as I stood alone at the door, Brody lifted his head and pressed his lips to her forehead, closing his long, fair lashes.
24
BRODY
Alex pulled away from the parking lot, her tires kicking up a flurry of dust that clung to the back of my throat. The thick, suffocating feeling matched the one in my chest. Like someone had sat on my ribs. She called me earlier, during Ro’s derby trial. Had driven out especially to see me. To deliver the news.
I swallowed hard as her taillights disappeared into the street. A reliable source had informed her that Denver wouldn’t renew my contract.
When she’d told me, a numbness had settled into every fiber of my body. A kind of spongy feeling of nothingness. Like I was in a dream, insulated from the world around me.
All the years I’d worked my butt off. All the sacrifices I’d made. Was my career over? If Denver announced I was unfit, nobody else would sign me. I pushed out my breath with a slow hiss.
What the hell would I do? I hadn’t allowed myself to consider this outcome. To examine the reality. I’d woken up drenched in sweat more times than I cared to admit, but I’d always shoved the notion of my not returning to the ice way back in my brain.Retirement wasn’t something I allowed myself to think about. Not until I absolutely had to.
The skin of my palms prickled, and I rubbed them together. My agent hadn’t called. If there was news, he’d be straight on the line, wouldn’t he? I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed his number, each trill of the unanswered ringtone taunting me. Bile pooled in my throat. He’d worked hard for me over the years. Negotiated some great deals and endorsements. I thought we were friends, too.
I checked my watch before calling the team manager in Denver. By now, he’d be out of practice, sitting in his shiny office, polishing his trophies. Again, the call went unanswered. I tugged on a breath. Maybe he had a lunch or a coaching meeting to attend. I’d try again later. Message his PA. But I couldn’t ignore that when my star had been on the rise, he’d never taken longer than three rings to pick up.
Ro. I had to find Ro. Hers was the only face I wanted to see. The only arms I wanted to feel around me. She’d take away some of the hard burn in my chest.
Through a haze of racing thoughts, I stumbled back into the arena, but she was nowhere to be seen, only a collection of damp-haired women. They side-eyed me as I scanned their faces, and the sickly scent of their perfume assaulted my nose. Ro would be out of the shower too, by now. I stepped further into the hall, almost bumping straight into Dean Millan’s chest.
“Whoa, slow down, Brody.” He placed a hand on each of my shoulders. “Your girl did good. Didn’t she tell you?”
I had no words. Instead, I shook my head, eyes darting around the arena behind him. “Well, she did great. I want her on the team. She comes across as a little kooky, but we can work with her.”
I tightened my eyes. “What do you mean, kooky?”
He huffed a laugh into the air. “I think she should get herself a new skating outfit. And I just saw her leaving the parking lot on her wheels.”
My words stuttered as a wash of cold crept over my skin. “W…where was she going?”
“I have no idea, but she looked in a hurry.”
“Dean. Which way did she go?”
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