Page 60 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)
Grayson
GRAYSON
please tell me you’re not running off this afternoon because I need to see you wearing that in person
BELLA
first, it’s just a shirt, and secondly…
stop spying on me through the camera
GRAYSON
never
and it’s not just a shirt, you’re torturing me
it’s red
BELLA
I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was at the top of my clean laundry pile
GRAYSON
then I thank the laundry gods
you look beautiful today
and every other day
I t’s been two weeks since I saw my parents, and despite not being able to step into my childhood home, something shifted in my heart. Knowing that my parents can look me in the eye and not see a man who killed their son lifted a weight off my shoulders that I thought would never leave.
That ache is still there, forever present, but it isn’t trying to drown me anymore.
Even skating feels different.
It’s always come naturally to me, and this season felt like I lost that, like I had to work harder to achieve something that came to me like second nature.
Tonight, that isn’t the case, and as I slap the puck into the net, a siren wails around me as my teammates slide toward me, slapping my back in congratulations.
The smile that stretches across my face isn’t forced.
Finding the nearest camera, I wink, mouthing, That’s for my girl.
Bella and Cindy are watching from my house, the girls deciding to make a night of it to be with Bambi. I have no doubt Asher and I will step foot into chaos once we get back to my house.
It isn’t long before Kieran is making a fast break away again and I’m right behind him. My skates make me feel like I’m floating as I hustle beside him, my mind laser-focused.
Kieran fakes a left, his eyes never even sliding my way as he pulls his stick back and slaps the puck to the side. I’m right there though, our energy on the same wavelength. No looks needed, just trust knowing I’ll be there.
The puck meeting my stick makes the crowd explode around the arena.
The defenseman from Michigan sneers as he locks his gaze on me.
He pumps his legs trying to catch up to me but it’s no use.
I’m flying tonight, feeling for once like my brother is right there beside me.
I can practically hear his voice in my ear, screaming, as I lift my stick and slap the puck, watching it sail to the right, up and over the goalie’s shoulder.
It hits the back of the net as I slide to a stop, spraying ice over the defensemen.
Kieran rushes me, my team following suit as the countdown buzzes.
3-0 .
“He’s back, baby! The devil twins are fucking back!” Kieran whoops and hollers.
The crowd cheers, the arena chanting, “IceHawks! IceHawks! IceHawks!”
Asher skates our way, ripping off his helmet as he cheers, “Let’s fucking go!”
“Another victory on our belt, Cap!” Caleb announces as he joins the fold.
Surprisingly, I’m too happy to correct him that I’m not their captain.
“We’re on our way to the fucking Stanley Cup!” Irving hollers. “I can feel it in my fucking balls we’re going to win.”
The boys groan, pulling away, but we all laugh, shaking our heads. “Way to ruin a moment with your balls, Irving,” Mitchel scoffs, shoving Irving playfully.
The next hour is a blur of showers, celebrations, and microphones shoved in our faces at the press conference, and for once, I don’t have a pit in my stomach walking into it.
No one besides Kieran and Bella knows I slipped in my sobriety, and I’m okay keeping that out of the headlines. For once it won’t be about how I’m spiraling but instead how I’m skating, and there’s no better feeling in the world than my hard work being recognized.
And I feel like I owe it all to Bella.
I’ve put in the hard work skating—no one can take that credit—but if it weren’t for her help two weeks ago, I’m afraid to admit that I probably would have kept spiraling.
The group at AA has been nothing but supportive as well. Their words and stories of how many times it took them slipping to stand strong made the guilt lessen enough to start believing that this time around I can stay sober.
“Grayson, how do you feel knowing you’re sending your team into the playoffs?” a reporter asks, the blinding lights not allowing me to see who the deep voice belongs to.
I wish I could say I hope it’s not one that wrote something nasty about Drew and me, but they all did. Reporters will do anything for a click .
I chuckle, the deep timbre of it ringing from the speakers.
“It’s not because of me that we’re heading to the playoffs, it’s because of the incredible team.
It’s not one man’s talent or hard work, it’s a group effort, and I have to thank IceHawks for their incredible teamwork that we’re once again going to the playoffs. ”
A clap on my back from Asher beside me has me grinning.
He sits to my left, answering a question directed his way, while Logan sits on my right and answers another.
Coach is smart not to put Kieran, Irving, or Mitchel in front of the microphones after games.
They’re loose cannons. Logan, Asher, and I are Coach’s best bet at no mishaps.
The guys really took over when I mentally stepped out and I’ll forever be grateful to them. I just hope I can make it up to them and prove to not only them but to my team and coaches that I’m mentally here again—that I’m ready to stay.
“Grayson,” a deep voice calls, drawing my attention to somewhere in the far right back corner. “Have you got any more declarations of love for us?”
The guys beside me choke, not being able to cover their laughs with coughs quick enough. I don’t regret a second of it.
Which leads me to wink at the camera sitting in front of us, knowing Bella is watching. “Just that Bella is still my girl and I can’t wait to get home to her.”
“Pussy whipped,” Logan coughs through his fist away from the microphones and cameras.
Asher leans back in his chair, making it look like he’s stretching as he covers his mouth and says, “Just wait for your turn, Logan. You’ll be as whipped as they come, my friend.”
Okay, maybe we aren’t completely responsible during the conferences.
The head of PR for IceHawks steps forward, wrapping up the interviews, giving us the signal to leave. I clap O’Connor’s back as we head out. “Ready to see the carnage the women created?”
He grimaces. “God no. I once came home from a game to find Cindy had painted black and white stripes over her entire body in support but once she got drunk, she realized she looked like a zebra. ”
We come to a stop, Johnson and I looking at Asher in horror before we all burst out laughing.
“Fuck me, I can’t wait to see the destruction.”
Forty minutes have passed by the time I pull into my driveway and key in the code.
I’m antsy to see her. My blood humming in my veins with anticipation.
Something shifted that weekend when we went to my parents’ house. Something that I can’t put my finger on. But I love it all the same. If Bella’s in a room, my body is pulled to hers, our gazes locking like two magnets finding their other half.
That, and when I flirt with her through text messages, she doesn’t completely ignore me anymore.
We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks. Me waiting for a cue from her and Bella still very much dancing along the cliff. I wish she would allow herself to let go. To fall into whatever is happening between us.
But I know deep down, this is something she needs to decide on her own. It has to be solely on her terms, otherwise she’ll run.
We haven’t been able to go on that date I teased her about.
It breaks my heart to even think about it, but the medication her mom’s taking isn’t working.
Any free moment Bella has, she’s spending it with her mom despite being somewhat in denial.
She’ll relay to me what the oncologist says and though it’s never good news, she’ll lift up her chin, straighten her shoulders, and declare that the next phase in the treatment will be the one to work.
I never have the heart to disagree with her.
I may be joking around with O’Connor and Johnson about the chaos she’s getting up to, but Bella truly needed this.
She needed a night away from the endless doctor’s appointments, a night away from her mother who is withering before her eyes.
She needed a minute without the weight of her mother’s cancer on her shoulders.
As I pull up to my house and find strobe lights flashing through the front hallway, I can’t help but smile.
Asher drops his head with laughter before slapping my shoulder. “I’ll pay for any damages.”
I smirk. “Who’s to say this is all Cindy? Have you met Bella? You can’t get her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
He chuckles. “Quite the pair we have.”
A pang hits my chest.
I wish this was real. That I was coming home to my girlfriend and not my assistant I’m paying to date me.
He turns to me. “Regretting introducing them?”
“Fuck no,” I answer quickly. “Honestly, I think Bella couldn’t have met Cindy at a better time.”
It’s obvious she’s been struggling with Layla’s absence.
Asher turns to the house, with what we can now hear is karaoke filtering from the windows. “Same with Cindy.” His shoulders seem to weigh more heavily upon him, his face forlorn.
“Is everything all right?”
He snaps out of it before sighing heavily. “Honestly, no, but hopefully it will be.”
Strobe lights forgotten, I turn to my teammate and friend, hating myself for not seeing there was something going on sooner. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think I can.”
I look from the door to him, and he must see something in my face because he blows out another breath. “Nothing like that. It’s just…Cindy’s story to share. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone until she’s ready.”
“But it’s eating you up not being able to talk to anyone about it,” I guess.
All I get is a nod.