Page 6 of Ruled Out

She only wanted to talk, but I panicked. I hadn’t been prepared to see her. Because every time I did, I was reminded of the way I’d hurt her and the piece of shit I was for doing it. But despite all I’d done to her, the temptation to haul Mia straight into my arms the second I saw her was so strong that the only way I could stop myself from touching her was to run. So, that was what I did. I got up, said I wasn’t feeling well, and hightailed it out of there, never replying to her messages, even though it about killed me to ignore them.

Jensen shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m not a chick, but if I were, I’d be humiliated. She came all the way from Dallas to see you, and you charged out of there and then blocked her number. Love you, man, but that was a dick move.”

My cortisol levels that sit just below bearable each day surge through my body. My heart thumps wildly, and my hands shake as I remove the last of my gear and grab my wash bag.

I’m tempted to walk off and not respond to my closest friend, but I don’t. “I know you went through shit with Kate, trying to get her not only on your side, but to also be with you. Butthis isn’t somemeant for each otherfairy-tale situation, you know. I’m not like all your friends either, finding their happily ever after. Zach and Luna finally getting together after years of friendship and now pregnant with their second child. Jon and Felicity literally bumping into each other like fated mates. It doesn’t work like that for people like me.”

He quirks a brow, clearly doubtful.

On a deep breath, I scan the locker room again, only to find us completely alone. “Mia Jenkins might as well be some mythical creature because I have zero chance of ever seeing her again, let alone dating her.”

“You fucking won’t with a defeated attitude like that.” Jensen grabs his shampoo bottle from the bench and fixes a towel around his waist.

“She’s the daughter of a multimillionaire GM, one of the biggest names in the sport. She’s destined to take over the Destroyers when he retires. She’s from a good family, and she has the world at her fucking feet. I earn millions a year but seem to have very little to show for it since my parents piss it away faster than I can send it. I’m from one of the worst neighborhoods in Dallas, and my agent spends more time keeping my dad’s behavior out of the press than he does promoting my hockey career. I am the last guy Graham Jenkins wants for his daughter.”

Jensen runs a rough hand through his floppy, dark hair, his eyes softening as he looks at me. “You are a good guy, Jessie; your background and past don’t make you any less worthy of Mia.” His brows pinch together, and I know what’s coming—something he’s said to me a thousand times before. “I’m here for you. You can talk to me, trust me, and confide in me. I’m on your side, man. You know that, right?”

I nod weakly, averting my eyes from his face as I once again push away the help I know I should take. “I know. But I’m doing okay.”

Frustration flashes in his eyes as I look at him, and he props his hand on his hip. “She’s twenty-two now, right?”

I shrug. “Yeah, and?”

“And he caught you basically having sex on her bed on her nineteenth birthday, yeah?”

“Yes,” I drawl, wincing at the memory—especially the look on Graham’s face that summer afternoon. “But we weren’t having sex, more making out.”

“Whatever.” He dismisses that detail. “So, you’re telling me she’s still being ruled by her daddy, even in her twenties?”

I nod and cross my arms over my chest. He’d better not criticize her. “It’s more than that.”

Noise filters from the showers, and Jensen looks over at the location of the voices and then back at me. “Yeah, you told me. You don’t want to expose her to your world.”

An icy sensation creeps up my spine. “I wouldn’t expose the Devil himself to my world.”

“Sit.”Coach Burrows points to the black leather seats facing his desk.

I flop down and wait for him to finish typing on his computer.

“How much did you have last night?” He’s still looking at his screen when he delivers the question.

The blood physically drains from my face. “How much of what, Coach?”

Smashing the last key on his keyboard, he finally looks at me, but I wish he hadn’t.

Fucking hell, this isn’t good.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Callaghan. How much booze did you drink?”

I don’t reply; instead, I scratch the back of my neck.

“Vodka? That’s what it usually is, right? Cheap, clear, you can disguise it easily.” He leans back in his chair and shakes his head at me. “I’m tempted to go check your drink bottle right now.”

Silence passes between us as I fight to delay my inevitable admission.

“I lost control last night,” I eventually answer. “I’d thought I was doing all right, but last night … I wasn’t good.”

“Were you still pissed when you went on the ice? I couldn’t smell booze on your breath, but you looked spaced out in the pregame brief. I’d seen that look on you before. You knew you weren’t in the right state to play. You might do a good job of hiding things from your teammates, but I’ve known you since you were a kid, Callaghan. You can’t fool me.”