Page 35

THIRTY-THREE

SWEETHEART

I think long and hard about what Gab benching Nik means.

Then if I add what she asked of me before the season started, it gets even more complicated.

Even an hour after he left, I still can’t make sense of it.

It doesn’t make sense.

That’s what’s so confusing.

If I know anything about Gab Darnell it’s that the woman is logical and way more intelligent than I am. But what reason could she possibly have to bench Nik when the league didn’t demand it?

Because the league wouldn’t demand it of her.

It was a brutal beating, yes, but that happens every second game in this league. It’s nothing new.

I spend the hour after that debating whether I should call her and ask the questions plaguing my mind. Getting answers straight from the source seems like the most logical thing, but the last thing she heard from me was that Nik still hated me.

I can’t tell her how much that’s changed over the last two months.

I can’t explain how deeply I feel her betrayal of him.

Because that’s what this is.

She’s basically kicking him in the teeth, and there’s nothing I can do.

It feels like ten hours have passed when Nik finally walks back into the room.

“Did you see the news?” he asks quietly and gets into bed, shuffling closer until his wet hair touches my bicep. I raise my arm and wrap it around his back.

He closes his eyes and cuddles closer, while I just try to find the words to speak.

Panic gripping my whole being, I know I could very well be about to fuck everything up, but I can’t stop myself from telling him. He needs to know and he needs to hear it from me.

It’s best if I focus on what he does know first, though.

“I did. Do you think one first-round pick is enough for Daniels? ”

“Montreal sure did,” he says, like he thinks they’re idiots, just like me.

“I still can’t believe they kept him on their farm team all season.”

“I know, right?” There’s laughter in his voice, and I’m about to ruin that, so I stay quiet. Just a little bit longer. “When I saw him get on the ice wearing Pirates gear I thought she had cut me,” he says quietly. I’m speechless. Fuck, that must’ve been brutal for him. “She’d just benched me, you know? Pulling rank on Laney and Barlow.”

“Did she?” I ask, voice tense.

“Yeah, Laney told me after practice. Apparently she made the deal with Detroit herself and only told Barlow once it was done. Then she called Laney and told him to bench me. He didn’t even know Daniels was joining us until he got to the rink.”

“What’s she playing at?” I ask, done with having so many questions.

“I don’t know,” he says with a sigh, and presses his body even closer to me. “Anyway, whatever the reason, we now have some real backup.”

“You’re gonna play next to him against Oregon, but who did Laney put on second with him for tomorrow night?”

“He’s still undecided, but I told him I think Wills would be the better option. Jacobs’s head is all screwed up and I don’t know why.”

The defeat in his tone makes my heart break a little .

“We’ll figure it out,” I whisper, and then I drag my ass down so I’m lying next to him. And so I can kiss him. I want to do it one more time and hope he doesn’t break up with me when... Oh, God, it’s time. “You left your phone.” I keep talking quietly, scared of the words. “And it started ringing while I was in the shower, and then it stopped just to start again. I wasn’t going to answer, I was just going to put it on silent mode. But then I saw it was Max calling you.”

His whole body tenses, just like I expected it to.

“I didn’t answer.” I rush to get the words out. “But I did see the messages.”

He goes to roll away but I lock my arm around him.

“Please don’t. Don’t,” I insist and bury my face against his neck.

“What did he say?” he asks, anger spewing out with every word.

“That he hadn’t seen you act like that on the ice since Mama and Papa died. He wanted to know what happened.” He stops trying to get away so I loosen my hold on him.

Just from reading that message I know enough.

I understand nothing, though.

“There were about a million more messages but that’s the gist of it. And he wants you to call him. Seemed pretty desperate.”

I decide to leave it at that.

I believe I did the right thing by telling him what I saw. I don’t regret it. Now, no matter how much I hope he opens up to me, I’ll keep my mouth shut if he doesn’t .

I’m not going to push him.

And I decide I can live with that when he starts talking and it’s not about Max.

“I saw you go down,” he says lowly. “I saw your stick break. It made me so scared, sweetheart.” His Russian accent comes out unintentionally it seems.

“I know,” I murmur.

“It’s true that I haven’t been that scared, that angry, in a very long time.” He sighs out the words with a resignation I’ve never heard from him before. “He left,” he says at last. “They were dying and he came to Vegas from college to see them, but then he left. And he didn’t come back. He didn’t come to their funerals. He said his goodbyes, and then they were sedated anyway, but I wasn’t.”

I hear the tears in his voice before I look up just in time to see the first one fall down the side of his face.

My heart breaks for him in that moment.

“He was only nineteen but I couldn’t forgive him,” he whispers finally. “We didn’t talk for two years after that, not until he messaged me out of the blue five years ago. I never reply, but he hasn’t stopped texting me. And every time he does, I get angry. I remember how he left me.” He lets out a shuddering breath and then there’s no more talking.

He doesn’t need to explain any more.

I understand, even if I know differently.

I let him cry, something I never thought I’d see him do, which I now realize was a ridiculous expectation. And I’m beyond grateful that he feels safe enough in my arms to come undone in them.

After a while, he falls asleep, and I remember that same fear he went through alone, from so long ago.

I remember the way it wouldn’t let me function. I couldn’t do anything for my brothers when they lost their dad, for my mom when she lost her husband, her rock, her best friend. I couldn’t do anything for my aunt and uncles who had lost a brother, and I definitely couldn’t do shit for my grandparents who had lost a son.

It was too much, and I found a way to avoid it by making myself useful.

I remember the faces of shock from my family when I told them I was still going to the hockey camp the day after the funeral. I remember how detached I was from their emotions.

I’m not going to excuse Max’s actions, but maybe, when Nik is ready, maybe I can tell him how it was for me when I was in his shoes.

We spend the day in our room, away from everyone. We’re both just a little fragile and need the time to lick our wounds.

I have no words for him, not yet, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to need them.

He’s quiet when he wakes up after noon. There are no more tears and his eyes seem clearer. I kiss him instead. For hours we do nothing but kiss and hold each other. We might be hard but there’s no need to do anything about it for now. I only want to be close to him, and I’m beyond grateful that he wants the same.

We have a light lunch thanks to room service, and it’s only at six that we have contact with the outside world, since Nik left his phone on silent and I put mine away.

There’s a knock on the door, and Nik hurries to move his stuff to the other bed in the room, then rushes back to the door to check who it is.

His quick thinking reminds me that we’re still in the thick of it. Still hiding, and it’s probably going to be like that for the rest of the season.

Maybe longer.

“Bear,” Nik cries with forced enthusiasm, and his best friend clearly doesn’t buy it. He just raises an eyebrow and taps Nik’s shoulder so he’ll let him walk into the room.

He surveys the mess—most of it made by the fact that Nik’s bag was open when he ran across the room with it.

“Heart, my sincerest condolences for having to be in the same room as this animal.” I snort when he points his thumb back at Nik.

“And he snores,” I deadpan and mock-scowl at Nik.

“You really suffer, huh?” He smirks and crosses his arms. “Anyway, he told us your wrist is better?”

“Yeah, I barely feel anything, really.”

“That’s good. Now get off your ass and get ready. Team dinner.” That’s all the explanation he offers, then he’s walking back out. “You too, Santa.”

There’s no room for argument since he’s gone as fast as he came.

“Team dinner, then,” I say and swing my legs off the side of the bed. Nik’s grumbling, so I pat his arm and kiss him quickly. “It’ll be fine,” I murmur, then I pretend I don’t hear his complaining grumbles and change into respectable, outside clothes.

The team dinner starts out smooth enough. I get to meet Timmy Daniels, then he and Benny start telling tales about their time in the hockey boarding school they went to.

We laugh and shake our heads at how much dumb shit they got away with, and then I learn of yet another Pirates tradition that wasn’t upheld for me.

“Time for nicknames,” Mater shouts over the noise of all the conversations going around the room.

An “ ooohh ” goes around the table, and I look around without a clue of what’s going on.

“Timmy, do you like your nickname?” Jules asks, acting all serious, though I’m pretty sure his nickname is Timmy.

“Meh, it could be better,” he answers back.

“All right then, who can do better?”

A bunch of ridiculous ones are called out right after. Burton for Tim Burton, Fairly Odd for Timmy Turner in The Fairly OddParents, Burch for Timmy Burch in South Park, and on and on it goes.

“Brick,” Nik’s voice sounds louder than all the others, and they all quiet down and think about his suggestion. It’s a bit comical how they all turn to look at Timmy as one.

He is a big dude, I’d say almost as tall as Nik, and he’s pretty buff too. I suppose he looks like a Brick kind of dude if you don’t look at his face.

It’s boyish now, but I guess he could grow into his nickname if he breaks his nose a couple of times.

His hair is also a dark copper that’s close enough to clay, so maybe...

“I like it,” Bear declares. Agreements sound all around the table, and then again they all turn to Timmy.

“It’s badass,” he says, eyes alight with excitement. I’d be too if I’d just been named Brick. My nickname is lame, it’s why I’m more than fine with being called Charlie and with Nik growling at anyone who calls me Sweetheart—no, I haven’t missed that.

“We need to do Heart’s too,” he says right then, and I start shaking my head and don’t stop. He feels bad that I didn’t have this tradition. I get it but...

“Sweetheart,” Jules says teasingly. “Do you like your nickname?”

Before I can even answer, Mater pipes up.

“I mean, he is a sweetheart. He has to be to put up with Santa’s bullshit.” Nikolay growls playfully at Mater, though he doesn’t protest. Interesting .

“I’d really rather you just call me Charlie,” I say, almost pleading with them.

“That’s boring,” Eagle cries from across the table, laughter in his eyes.

“It is boring,” Nik muses and starts rubbing his chin like a B-grade movie villain.

“Okay, his opinion gets overruled, then. Give us your best, boys,” Jules says.

I have to cover my face in embarrassment at their suggestions.

“Snoopy for Charlie Brown,” Eagle gets right into it.

“Chaplin,” Milkman shouts.

On and on it goes until Nik stops them.

“Just call him Charlie,” he groans.

“No,” Jules says without mercy. “Heartbreaker,” he suggests and everyone quickly protests, some even throw napkins at him. I do laugh at that.

“King Charles,” Bear says suddenly, and everyone quiets down.

“I mean, the English might protest,” I argue quietly, wincing at the thought of anyone calling me that.

“He is the best defensive player ever,” Bates argues, and looks sideways at Nik. “Sorry, Santa.”

“It is fine, he is.”

I almost break my neck with how fast I turn to look at him.

Would anyone who’s ever met him blame me for staring with my jaw on the table and my eyes open wider than they ever have been?

No, they would not.

The whole table is deadly quiet and completely still. Even the particles in the air are shocked still at his words.

“Oh my God,” someone whispers from across the table.

“Are you dying?” Bear asks, looking actually concerned.

Nik rolls his eyes. “You are all drama queens.”

There’s an uproar of offended hockey players then. Benny even stands up and shouts something I can’t understand at Nik, pointing a finger accusingly at him. And the rest follow.

Nik’s eyes are wide open now too, as he looks at all his teammates telling him he’s the biggest drama queen to ever exist, and he’s ridiculous, and when did he get that personality change?

Some start arguing over who really is the better defenseman, me or him, and the debates start to get heated with Spiderman pointing at Nik and Eagle pointing at me.

I just laugh at Nik, and eventually he looks my way and narrows his eyes.

“Shut up, King Charles.”

The laugh that bursts out of me has the day’s emotions draining away, and again I’m reminded that no matter what, I trust him. No matter what, I believe we’re going to be okay.

With Brick ’s help, we do manage to eke out a win against San Francisco, and then with Nik back on the ice and Brick next to him, we dominate against Oregon.

I feel confident for our game in Seattle, and I’m proven right when we get another win against them.

We fall to Vancouver in overtime, but get right back on track two days later when we beat Minnesota.

Then it’s time to go play in Chicago, and when we get there and have our light practice before the game that night, I’m as nervous as anyone with a brain would be when Charlotte Wayne herself steps onto the ice and glides toward Eagle as if she’d been born with the skates already on her feet.

I watch with my mouth hanging open as the three-time Olympic gold medalist and seven-time world champion launches herself at my teammate and calls him Vinny , and then he tells Lottie to behave.

“You’re supposed to be a professional,” he scolds her and she keeps laughing at him.

“What is happening?” I whisper.

“They’re like siblings,” Nik tells me out of the corner of his mouth.

“Uh-huh,” I answer. I can see that, but Eagle is—well he’s just Eagle, you know?

And Charlotte Wayne is . . . Charlotte Wayne .

No one should be able to tell her to behave, least of all the guy who I saw picking his nose in the locker room not thirty minutes ago.

She might still be the assistant coach here in Chicago—the first woman to get that title in the NHL—but everyone knows she’s going to be the head honcho around here in a few years. Sooner maybe.

She took the job right after Laney left to be the head coach of the Pirates actually, and it was this huge deal for the league. A good thing in my opinion, since I’m pretty sure she’s better than most of the players on this team.

She’s that good.

Maybe I had a crush on her... maaaaybe.

Not that I’m gonna say a word about it to anyone, especially not the jealous mountain of a man next to me.

“You promised,” she tells Eagle sharply, and he sighs the way I’ve seen my brothers do a million times when I ask them—tell them, whatever—to do something.

“Fine,” he grumbles.

Then they’re skating towards me, and she’s looking at me , and smiling , and?—

“Charlie, this is Charlotte,” Eagle says in a robotic voice.

“Uh, hi,” I squeak, then completely shatter any illusions she may have had of me by waving like an idiot.

“Hello, it’s great to meet you.” She offers her hand and I shake it automatically, then curse at myself for not having taken my glove off like a gentleman. My mother would definitely scowl at me .

“You too,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say.

“Charlotte,” Nik says from next to me. She turns to him and this time her smile has a meanness to it.

“Nikolay,” she says cooly. They nod at each other like they’re about to start a duel or something, and I have no fucking clue what’s going on.

Not gonna lie, I start to sweat when her green eyes swing back to me, and the tightness around them fades.

“I’m a huge fan, and Ivan promised me he’d introduce me to you.”

“I, ah—uh,” I stutter. She’s a fan? What the fuck? “Wow,” I settle on. “Thank you. I’m a fan as well.” Nik scoffs next to me, and I can tell he’s annoyed just by the way he shifts from foot to foot.

“You’re from Chicago, right?” She keeps smiling up at me, and acting like Nik isn’t here. What is it with them?

“Yes. Well, no.” I hesitate and have to tell myself to fucking relax. “I’m from Crushville.” I finally manage to make words.

“And are you thinking of moving back home? Finally play for your home team?” There’s a new gleam in her eyes then, one I can’t decipher, but I can’t focus on that too much. Because her question is one I can’t answer.

“I’m very happy with the Pirates,” I tell her politely, maybe more stiffly than before, but the turn the conversation has just taken makes me uncomfortable.

Suddenly, no matter who she is, I want it to be over.

“You have to be to come out of retirement, huh? ”

There are no traces left of her friendly demeanor and that’s when it hits me, what she’s doing. Sneaky, sneaky.

“Lottie, that’s enough,” Eagle tells her, more sharply than I’ve ever heard him talk to anyone. “Get outta here, this is our ice time.” There’s no trace of humor on his face, but she just rolls her eyes at him and leaves without another word.

“Gotta respect that,” I say, meaning it. “Trying to play mind games.”

“She’s mean,” Nik says from next to me, and I have to laugh at his pout.

“What did she do to you?” I wonder.

Eagle shakes his head. “You don’t want to know,” he says ominously and then we all get back to our practice.

That was so fucking weird, but whatever.

I’ve always had a good enough relationship with Chicago’s front office, so I’m not worried. Since my first year in the league, they’ve agreed to let me have more than a few tickets when I play here so my family can come watch me.

I’ve kept that tradition up, and for years their head of PR has emailed me about how many I’ll need that season when the schedules are announced. This year was no different even though I’m playing for another team, and Mom gladly gave hers up so Lou could come with Finn and Beau.

I’m excited about the game, sure. The Chicago crowds love me despite my never having played here as a Pirates player, but it’s after the game that I’m most excited for.

I’m going to show Nik my home, he’s gonna meet my family, and we’re finally going to tell someone else that we’re together. Once that’s done I don’t know how I’m going to resist telling the whole world, but Nik had the great idea of telling Michelle and Kelly as soon as we’re back home to give ourselves that little treat at least.

I fucking love that he thought of that, that we’re so in sync, that he’s also excited about meeting my family.

And too early or not, I fear I might love him.