Page 78 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

playing with heart

Tyler

One month later.

It’s playoff season. Las Vegas has hockey fever, the energy around our bid for the Cup intensifying with each win. They should rename it Crush Vegas, for the abundance of posters and billboards and news reports about us.

The marketing team has reintroduced the larger-than-life banners around the outside of the arena, each of us immortalized, three stories tall like hockey-playing kaiju. I should love it, should be basking in the glory of being a superstar among superstars, but really, I’m just a heartbroken kid.

I miss my girl. I miss her so much it aches and it’s not about the sex.

I miss her friendship most of all. I miss talking to the one woman who ever told me she loved me.

I have the single text she sent me about an hour after her father marched her out the door.

It’s clipped like she was interrupted...

My best guess? Dad killed her phone before he put her on the plane back to Saint Petersburg.

Zoya: Ty...I love you. I’m so sorry...I won’t stop loving you even though I am far away. Don’t forget thaxociv,.

I won’t forget. You. That you love me. I’ll never forget.

So yeah... It hurts to imagine the scenario going down when she pressed send on that text.

I know she got on the plane alone though.

Her dad stayed in town immediately after and Irina was still around for a while.

I saw her at a home game sitting in VIP behind the bench.

We didn’t speak. I guess Dad wasn’t successful in getting Irina to leave before her semester finished up.

I agonize about Zoya’s classes all the time.

Did she get to complete them via distance learning?

She must’ve been frantic having to just ditch the semester and the stats class she hated but worked so hard in.

I know how much school means—meant to Zoya.

My heart’s just fuckin’ broken. For her. For me.

And I take full blame.

I fucked up. And because I did, I wasted her semester on top of everything else.

Sorta like my whole life has been fucked.

I love you, too, Smokeshow. I’m so sorry, for everything. And I won’t ever stop loving you even though you are far away...

We beat out Portland in the first five games of the playoff round.

Coming off a late season win against them really messed up their mojo.

The games weren’t easy, per se, but Portland’s fire was dimmed and ours was turned up extra hot.

I put everything I had into those games; my focus laser sharp.

To be honest, I had to, otherwise I’d have crapped out thinking about Zoya.

In between games, I’ve been trying to be a great role model for the kids.

I still feel damn guilty about leaving them with the nanny the night I stayed at the Bellagio with Zoya.

It was irresponsible, and I had to get down on my knees—literally—and beg Patricia not to quit afterward.

She stayed, but only with a promise I’d be a model citizen.

We all board the bus from the Austin airport to the hotel and I go straight to the back, AirPods in to avoid having to interact with the other humans. Georg won’t even look at me—it’s a miracle we can play together right now. I think he wants to kill me and I’m not even exaggerating.

I adjust my glasses and pull out a book I’ve been reading about Buddhist philosophy—yeah, go figure.

I know Zoya likes yoga, so I found a class to join and started going.

I discovered right away that it really helped chill my anxiety.

It’s a gift, I tell you. Seriously, I think yoga might be my single saving grace these past weeks.

When a big lunk flops down beside me, I nearly snarl, then realize it’s my team captain. Also, snarling is not very Zen, either. My yoga teacher would be disappointed in me. I pull out a pod. “’Sup, Evan?”

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

I stare at him, unblinking. “Are you really just asking how things are going?”

He lifts his chin at my book. “Converting to Buddhism?”

“Converting would require some level of spirituality to begin with,” I explain. “I have none, so I’m really just learning.”

“That’s…well…it’s bloody surprising, frankly. But hey, I wanted to catch you for a minute before things get loud. You doing okay out there?”

“On the ice?” I ask, confused by his question. “I mean, yeah. I’m fine. Playing textbook defense lately. Laser focus and all that.”

“I can see you’re playing with focus, and I appreciate that, but I can’t help but notice that you’re not playing with any heart. You’re there but you’re not, you know what I mean? Normally you’re up everyone’s ass, pushing, fighting and I haven’t seen that from you in weeks. What’s going on?”

I give him a weird bark of a laugh and a shake of the head. “Ask your best friend what’s going on.”

Evan’s eyebrows shoot up into his forehead. “Georg?” Then, realization dawns on him. “Oh. His sister.”

I nod. “I mean, it’s not his fault, I guess. He’s just the enforcer.”

“You really cared for her?”

“Fuck.” I blow out a big breath. “I know it’s hard to believe but I did. I do. You said I’m not playin’ with heart? It’s probably because I got my heart ripped out when she was dragged back to Russia.”

Evan’s lips push to one side, a crease forming between his eyes. “Interesting. Well, I’m sorry, man. It’s a shit break, but I can only advise that if something’s meant to be, it’ll be. Love manages to find a way, you know?”

“I guess.”

“We need you out there, Locksey. All of you.”

“Got it, chief.” I put my AirPods back in, but he doesn’t leave. He looks off into the distance, then nudges me with his elbow. I pull out the pod again. “Yeah?”

“I never saw myself falling in love. Not until I met Holly. She just…I don’t know.

Knocked me on my arse, I guess. I had to try really fucking hard, you know?

And she tried just as hard not to let it happen.

But we found a way and I feel more like a man now, married with children, than I ever did when I was fucking my way through the city.

So, I get how it can gut you when you find it. ”

I stare at him, blinking, trying to figure out what to say. Evan and I get along fine but we’re not buddies. We don’t talk like this. I open my mouth a couple of times and shut it again. Finally, I just settle for, “Thanks.”

He nods, sits for a second, then stands up, heading back up to the front of the bus.

I think I must read the same line in my book fourteen times by the time we pull up to the hotel. I check in, making sure I’m set up with an adjoining room for Patricia, who’s flying in with the kids so they can watch the game.

When they arrive, they’re like little tornados of kid energy, jumping on the bed, asking for room service, ordering me to take them to the pool.

We head down in our bathing suits and flip-flops, big beach towels around our necks, the kids each holding one of my hands.

And even though I feel so brokenhearted, I don’t think I would have survived the past month without these two.

Their daily smiles and cuddles, which took a while to earn, their stories about new friends from school.

Their bright presence in my otherwise solitary life.

I look down at their little, trusting hands, and can see so much change in them.

They look healthier and stronger, and as they chatter about their plane trip and the nice “hostesses”, I smile.

I’ve set up a spa treatment for Patricia, who really is a fucking miracle of a human, so she’s got tonight off.

Pam and Georg are at the pool when we get down there, jumping in to play an epic game of Marco Polo with me and the kids.

Well, Haley has a go, mostly dogpaddling, since Ma never taught the kids to swim…

surprise, surprise. Patricia’s been taking the kids to swimming lessons since she started, so Haley isn’t bad.

Logan spends most of the time on my back in a monkey grip, meaning we didn’t go under the water.

And even though things are awkward and uncomfortable between Georg and me, I’ve caught him smiling and laughing at Logan. The kid is cute.

I want—badly—to ask about Zoya, but something about the way Georg carries himself around me makes me think it’s not a good idea.

It makes me sick to my stomach, not knowing.

Not being able to talk to her. Either way, I haven’t heard from her since her lone text message on the last day that I saw her.

She’s like a princess locked away in a tower or something.

And we’ve already established that I’m no Disney prince, so… yeah, the situation sucks severely.

After the pool, we all go out for dinner and a movie, which I yawn all the way through. As we’re walking out of the theater, Logan is conked out draped over my shoulder. Pam pulls me back when Georg takes Haley to play a couple of video games.

“You okay, bud?”

I lift a shoulder. “Tired. Haven’t been sleepin’ well.”

“Because of the thing with Zoya?”

“Ya think?" I immediately feel like a dick for my tone. She’s just trying to be nice and I shouldn’t be an asshole to a friend.

"Sorry, Pam, I am complete and utter shit for company these days, but yeah, it’s Zoya, but also my mom, too.

She agreed to the rehab when she realized it was gonna be two years in jail otherwise, but she’s been calling at all hours, bitching me out, askin’ for cigarettes or money or whatever nonsense.

She wants me to get a lawyer to get her out early.

It’s a fuckin’ nightmare and I don’t really—” I stop talking and stare at her.

“Zoya was right. You don’t really have anyone to talk to about it because… she’s not here.”

“Wow. You’re readin’ minds now, Pam.”

“Yours is pretty easy to read. And I feel heartbroken for you, for what it’s worth.”