Page 37

PRESTON

I t didn’t matter how many times I called her.

Jordan wouldn’t answer her phone or my texts.

I couldn’t recall if I was ever this stressed in my life.

Truly. It felt like someone reached into my chest and ripped out my heart.

I’d prefer ten surgeries back-to-back over this, and it was all over a misunderstanding.

She thought I was moving out. Never gave me the chance to say I sure as fuck wasn’t.

I mean, hell, I did apply for a new place to live. But that was before we kissed, we talked, before we actually happened. And an application was nothing. I didn’t set up a time to view anything or put a down payment. It was just a way to save my neck.

Fuck me. I scrubbed my hands over my face, right as my phone buzzed. “Jordan?” I answered, not even checking who called.

“No, I’m sorry .” Logan’s soft voice carried through the phone. She sounded as defeated as I felt. Jordan ran out of here four hours ago and hadn’t returned.

I knew because I sat on the couch facing our front door.

“Have you seen her? Do you know where she went? Is she okay?” I asked.

It was still cold outside, and I wasn’t sure where she’d go if not with Logan.

She didn’t have a huge friend group and hated spending money.

She could hole up in the library but for how long?

She had to come back. This was her home.

“I think we’re gonna stay at my parents’ house for a few days,” Logan said, her voice as ragged as mine. “I’m so sorry, Preston. I’m not quite sure what happened, but I know you’d never hurt her.”

“I fucking love her!” I said, “I wanted to tell her I loved her, but she must’ve heard or found something about me searching for an apartment, which I legit looked at for one second weeks ago.”

“Yeah, she said what she saw.” Logan shuffled, her voice going quieter.

“She needs space. I hate saying this to you because we all can see how much you love her. She feels betrayed. I know you had your reasons for looking, but she’s not listening to reason.

She’s devastated. I think…I think she developed real feelings for you.

The first time she’s ever opened up. Then she learned about the apartment, and she went into self-protection mode. ”

“Goddamn it.” I pinched my nose, my eyes prickling. “That’s… Logan, what do I do? I can’t lose her. I just can’t.”

“I’m not sure.” She sighed, the defeated tone sounding a whole lot like this was unfixable. “You don’t give up. She’s worth it, but it might take some time.”

“I know she’s worth it. I know that.” I paced the living room, wincing at the sharp pain in my side. “Can you keep me updated at least?”

“Of course. Quentin will head back to the house to help you.”

“No. I’m fine.” I did not want to see anyone right now. I wanted to be alone. “Just, tell her I’m sorry, and I’d never leave her. Never. ”

“We’ll figure this out. I believe it. Love you, Preston.”

“You too, Log.”

I hung up, falling back to the couch as pain overtook me.

I deserved it. All week, I’d focused on hockey instead of Jordan.

It felt easier to put everything toward the sport, which was consistent.

Maybe I was afraid of what had shifted between us, of asking her what we were.

I didn’t want to be rejected, and instead, Jordan thought I was moving out of the house, all without telling her.

I’d never do that. She had to realize the truth. She was endgame and always had been.

Something thudded outside the front door, and hope clawed up my throat. She’s back! I hobbled closer to the hallway, desperate and manic and out of control. If she was back, that was a good thing. She’d seen reason!

“Open up, asshole.”

My brother. No . He was the last person I wanted to see, but he was also relentless. I froze, hoping he’d leave, but he knew me too well.

“I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing. Unlock this door before my balls fall off.”

“I’m not breathing that loud,” I mumbled, annoyed I let him get to me. I let him inside then returned to my spot on the couch. “Why are you here?”

“Jordan texted me, said you needed help for a few more days. That you aren’t cleared for anything yet and she had something come up and couldn’t stay. She okay?”

I hung my head, exhausted and hurting, physically and mentally. “No. But I’m fucking tired.”

“What do you need? Medicine? Food?” Price frowned. “You look pale, dude. I know you’re uglier than me, but you don’t look great.”

I shivered, hating how my damn body wasn’t one hundred percent. “Not sure what time it even is. ”

“Eight.”

“Damn. I missed my round of meds. No wonder I can barely walk.”

“Tell me where they are.”

I gave him directions, and Price returned with water, a snack, and meds. It was strange to see him help me like this, but my brother had a huge heart despite being a barbaric moron most of the time.

“Thanks, man. I hate admitting weakness.”

“Runs in the family. So for real, what did you do? I’m surprised Jordan would leave you, especially with how much she cried. That woman is obsessed with you. I don’t know why, but she collapsed against me with worry when you were in surgery. Shook the whole time.”

My stomach rolled. From the medicine or his admission, but I felt like such an asshole.

I should’ve told her I loved her, that I was with her until she sent me away.

Instead, I was a coward. I hadn’t wanted to lose her, and look what happened anyway.

“Remember when your dumb ass told me to look for another apartment?”

His eyes widened a fraction. “Don’t bring me into this, but I might recall something like that.”

“Well, she found it somehow and immediately thought it was legit. That I was moving in February and that I never told her.”

“Ah, and she’s a cagey one.” He nodded, staring out the front window into the dark with a somber look. “Okay—she learned that you looked, assumed the worst, and took off because she wants to protect herself. That makes sense.”

“Look at you putting pieces together.” I shoved a pillow over my face, preferring the dark. It helped my headache and prevented me from seeing my brother. “Yeah. That’s pretty much it. ”

“She’ll come around though.” My idiot brother sat on the end of the couch, just beyond where my feet were. “Put on some socks, you weirdo. It’s cold outside.”

“I deserve to feel cold.”

“When did you become so dramatic?” Price got up, and a second later, he tossed a blanket on me.

I mumbled a quiet thanks because it did feel nice.

“You’re welcome. You should sleep, and tomorrow we can make a plan.”

“There’s no plan. Jordan isn’t someone you can betray more than once. Once you lose that trust, she cuts you out of her life forever. I’ve seen it countless times.”

“Sure, but you didn’t betray her. She has misleading information and can’t make that assumption off a half-truth. Dude, why are you giving up? What is this?”

“I can’t play hockey for weeks. The love of my stupid life left me. It’s cold. I’m miserable. Mom and Dad are being weird. I don’t know. Can a guy just have a pity party for a hot second?”

Price laughed. It was a deep cackle that echoed in the living room, and soon enough, my own lips twitched.

“Do you hear yourself? God, I wish I recorded that. You can have your silly little party tonight. Cry. Punch a wall. Get it out. Tomorrow, I’m kicking your ass.

I love you, you idiot, but you’re wallowing.

It’s not cute. Honestly, it’s a good thing Jordan isn’t here because you would deserve to get left like this. ”

“You’re supposed to help me not make it worse.”

“That’s the thing, dude, I am.”

Okay. I woke up humbled and not proud of myself. Price was correct, and the wallowing had to stop. I showered, shaved, took my meds, and dressed in something other than sweats and a T- shirt. Even going through those motions made me feel and look better.

I’d never admit it to my brother, but I was glad he came over and snapped me out of this unwelcome, pathetic funk. And was I really gonna sit there and pout about Jordan being gone? Was I gonna feel sorry for myself that my appendix turned on me? Or, was I gonna fight for the things I wanted?

Fuck yeah, you are.

We had practice in an hour, and I’d cheer the team on, watch, learn, maybe even ask J.D.

if I could stand near him. I wanted to play more, but the idea of coaching still intrigued me.

Who knew what would happen if I had another surgery or if my left arm gave out.

I wanted to have options, and I should use this as an opportunity to learn.

That was step one.

The next step was going to Logan’s house and talking to Jordan. She could turn me away, but Logan’s parents wouldn’t leave me standing outside in the cold. They loved me. I’d use that to my advantage. I wasn’t beneath that.

Content with my plan, I put on my coat and grabbed a quick granola bar before running into Price. “You’re still here?”

“Where the fuck else would I be?”

“Not in my house,” I said, pleased he’d stayed over. I expected him to be gone, done with my sorry ass, but he was there. “Thank you, for yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know. You needed the pep talk and smackdown. It’s what I’m good at, blah, blah.” He rolled his eyes but pulled me into a bear hug. “We all need a little pity party before we bounce back ready to fucking rock and roll.”

“When did you get so…”

“Wise? Intelligent? Incredible? Since birth, baby.” He flashed an annoyingly smug smile. “Mom thinks you’re the better child, but I’m most improved player. ”

Goddamn it. This time I laughed and found a new fondness for my brother. We had never been like this, open and real with each other. We were always focused on our sports and future, and sometimes we’d work out together, but this new version of our friendship was awesome. “Thank you. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” He held out a fist, and I hit it. “Tell Jordan I said hi later.”

“You’re assuming she’ll be willing to speak with me.”

“Got the feeling bro.”

We left the house and locked up, and I dropped him off at his place before going to the rink right after.

The place felt colder when you weren’t on the ice.

Watching from the bench wasn’t the same—it didn’t get your blood pumping, didn’t let you feel the rhythm of the game.

It just left you cold. I tugged my jacket tighter around me, pretending I wasn’t itching to lace up my skates and jump over the boards.

J.D. stood a few feet away, clipboard in hand, his sharp eyes tracking every pass, every shot.

He didn’t miss a thing. I’d always respected that about him.

He wasn’t just an assistant coach; he was a student of the game, someone who lived and breathed hockey like the rest of us.

Today, I wasn’t here to be part of the action. I was here to learn.

“Not bad,” J.D. muttered as Liam fired a slapshot that whizzed past the goalie’s glove. “Good positioning.”

I stepped closer, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Think he’s over-relying on his speed, though?”

J.D. glanced at me, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You tell me, Charming. What’s he missing?”

I hesitated, watching Liam skate back into the drill line. “He’s fast, no question. But he doesn’t scan the ice enough. He’s so focused on beating the defense, he doesn’t see the weak-side winger coming in. If he dropped the puck there, it’s a guaranteed goal. ”

J.D. nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard. “Good catch. That’s the kind of stuff coaches look for—patterns, tendencies, what works and what doesn’t. Players can get tunnel vision. It’s our job to see the bigger picture.”

I leaned against the boards, my breath fogging up in front of me. “How do you balance it, though? Knowing what to correct without overwhelming the team?”

J.D. chuckled, tucking his pen behind his ear. “That’s the trick, isn’t it? You can’t throw everything at them at once. Focus on one or two key adjustments. If you overload them, they’ll freeze up. Hockey’s fast—you don’t want them thinking too much out there. You want instinct.”

I nodded, filing that away. “So, with Liam… you’d work on his vision first. Get him looking for his options.”

“Exactly. Once that clicks, you can layer on other things, like timing his passes better or finding better shooting lanes. Coaching’s a long game, Preston. You build them up piece by piece.”

I watched the next drill, my gaze following Tyler as he fumbled a pass and skated hard to recover. The frustration on his face was obvious. I’d felt it plenty of times before. “What do you do when they get in their own heads? Like, when they know they screwed up and can’t shake it?”

J.D. didn’t answer right away. He watched Tyler for a moment, then turned to me. “What would you tell him?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Me? I’d probably tell him to shake it off and focus on the next play.”

“Not bad,” J.D. said, nodding. “But sometimes, you’ve got to remind them why they’re here in the first place.

Tyler’s a grinder—he’s not the most skilled guy on the ice, but he works harder than anyone else.

That’s his edge. You tap into that, remind him that his hustle is what makes him valuable.

Once he remembers that, the mistakes don’t matter as much. ”

That hit me harder than I expected. I nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. “It’s about finding their why.”

“Exactly,” J.D. said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Same goes for you, you know.”

I frowned, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re more than just a player, Preston. You’ve got a sharp hockey mind. You see things most guys miss. That’s not something you lose when you’re off the ice. Tap into that while you can’t play. See how it feels.”

J.D. turned back to the ice, whistling sharply to signal the next drill. “Now, pay attention. You’re shadowing me, remember? What’s Tyler doing wrong in this breakout?

I shook off the swirling thoughts and focused on the ice. “He’s skating too deep into the zone. He’s cutting off his own angle for a pass.”

J.D. smirked. “See? Told you you’ve got a good eye. Observe. Learn. It’ll make you better once you’re back on the ice.”

That compliment had me smiling, replacing the gross anger of not being able to play.

A week ago, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.

Maybe this was a reminder of that goal—I wanted to keep playing the sport and I wanted to coach.

For the first time since learning I couldn’t play for three to four weeks, I smiled.

Now I just had to get Jordan back and I’d be okay.