Page 23

Now – August

Jordan

A car honks behind me and startles me enough that I jump and hit my head on the trunk of the car.

With a muttered “fuck” under my breath, I drag the last box out of the new SUV.

It’s not like I wanted to make the twenty-hour drive from Texas, but plans changed, and I wasn’t able to ship my belongings in time and fly back to Michigan like I initially intended.

I heft the heavy ass box in my arms and fumble for the keys, locking the car in the process. Another honk is aimed at me, and I spin around, ready to give whatever asshole is behind the wheel a piece of my mind.

I’m about to do just that when I realize I know the asshole behind the wheel. The fucker is wearing the biggest smile on his face as he hops out of the car and runs at me, enveloping me and my box in a big hug.

“Jordie, my man, you’re finally back,” he says, running a hand through his dark red hair. Ashton fucking Meyers: former teammate, current best friend, and a constant pain in my ass.

“I told you never to call me that. And what are you doing here, shouldn’t you and your boyfriend be enjoying the last few days of peace and quiet before the new hockey season starts?”

Ash reaches out and takes the box from me, and I don’t miss the way his muscles flex as he easily maneuvers it. I frown at his biceps and say, “Did you get bigger?”

“I put on about twenty pounds of muscle in the last year,” he says smugly, walking towards the apartment building.

“Jesus, man, the other NHL teams better watch it. You’re gonna be a beast out there.”

“Damn right,” he says, and winks at me.

We take the elevator to the third floor, and I let Ash carry the box for me. I enter the code on the keypad and unlock the door to the apartment. Ash catalogs my stuff and looks at me, head tilted. “Is this really all your stuff? Just two suitcases and some boxes?”

I grab one of the suitcases and roll it inside, using it to prop the door open. “You told me the apartment is mostly furnished, so I got rid of a bunch of stuff. Figured I’d start fresh anyway.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve got furniture and kitchen stuff, but you still need some decorations. Things of your own to make it home, ya know?” Ash says, placing the box on the kitchen island and heading out to the hallway for another one.

“I’ll figure it out. Thanks for letting me sublet the place, by the way. You and Eli are welcome to stay here anytime you’re back in town, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Of course. Did I tell you we’re looking at buying a house in Grand Marquee?”

“Really?” I ask. I’m not surprised that they’re looking at houses since they already rent a condo in Detroit, but I’m surprised they’re looking in Grand Marquee. “Wouldn’t you want a house closer to where you play?”

“We’re going to keep the condo during the season, but we’re thinking about moving closer for the off-seasons. I hear the house across the road from Robbie is up for sale.”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you’re in town. It’s not to help me move into your old place. It’s to get closer to Robbie.”

“It’s a double whammy,” Ash says, bumping his hip against mine as he walks by. My steps falter and I wince at the pain that shoots through me. I try to recover quickly but Ash notices and his eyes go wide as saucers. “Jordan, shit—I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t realize that was your injured hip.”

“It’s fine,” I say, walking over to the island and gripping the counter.

“I’m such an idiot,” Ash says, quickly coming over and pushing the bar stool towards me. I shake my head and ride out the pain. It’s been months since my career-ending injury, and it still follows me around.

When the doctors told me I had a hip fracture, I didn’t think much of it.

People come back from that, right? Well, not me.

Because of the direct acute trauma to my hip joint, I developed post-traumatic osteoarthritis, also known as PTOA.

I was hopeful that it would go away after a few months, but even with physical therapy, exercise, and lifestyle changes, the doctors told me it could stay with me for the rest of my life.

Not only was I devastated to lose my hockey career over a stupid injury, but I’ve had to come to terms with my chronic issue.

Some days are great, some days are manageable, and some days even the smallest thing like getting out of bed feels excruciating.

I thought I was in a good spot, getting back in touch with my family and friends.

Texas was a little more bearable. I had plans to visit Grand Marquee more often, but this injury took me right back to the darkest, most miserable place in my head.

I take a shaky breath and muster a smile. “You’re not an idiot. It was an honest mistake, don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Ash gives me a gentle hug and I want to make another joke that he got soft since dating Eli, but I don’t. I give into it instead, hugging him harder. The truth is, I don’t know if I’d be here if it wasn’t for Ash. While I was at my darkest, I pushed people away. Again . My own family and friends.

I’m not proud of it, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain back their trust. But Ash—he was the one that pushed me to get better.

I kept most of the details of my injury to myself because I didn’t want my friends to pity me, but Ash flew down to Texas after a few months and made sure I was going through therapy—physical and mental—and that I was taking care of myself.

“How are you doing with everything? Are you sure you don’t want to take more time to get better before starting the new job?”

I squeeze his shoulder and plead with him to understand. I need this . “I can’t sit around all day, man. I’m gonna go crazy if I do.”

“Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

I shrug, “It’s an assistant coaching position for the Manticores. It’s not like I’ll be running drills and getting hip checked. I’ll mostly be on the sidelines.”

“Still. You’re more important than this job. Okay?”

My eyes fall closed and I take a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Before I can offer Ash anything to drink or ask him to stay for dinner, he says, “I need to head over to that open house.”

“You weren’t kidding?”

Ash laughs, and his dark blue eyes twinkle with mischief. “You really think I would pass on the opportunity to be Robbie’s neighbor? It will annoy the shit out of him, so you bet your ass I’m making an offer on that house.”

I laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it will.”

“All right, I’ll see you at Thanksgiving most likely, unless we get a day or two before then and decide to come visit. You know how schedules can be.”

“Yeah. Tell Eli I say hi. Oh, and—“ I break off, biting the inside of my cheek. Why is it so hard to ask for help? “Can you give me your therapist’s number?”

“Marge? Hell yeah. She’s the best. She does video calls now, so you don’t even have to go into her office.”

I shake my head at Ash, knowing I’ll miss him until Thanksgiving. “Sounds great, man.”

Alice

I take my third attempt at parallel parking in front of my apartment building, but the angle is all wrong. Again . Whoever invented parallel parking deserves a spot in the darkest, deepest parts of hell.

“Ugh,” I groan, frustrated. My hands smack the wheel, and I look closer at the car parked behind me. The damn SUV is overhanging into my spot, which means I definitely won’t fit in the tight space.

I turn the volume up on my favorite Taylor Swift song and take a lap around the building, trying not to think of all the papers I have to grade tonight.

By the time I get back, there’s an open spot across the street and I take another four tries to park the Jeep that my brother, Robbie, sold to me last year when his daughter was born and he needed to upgrade to a minivan.

The traffic slows down enough for me to jaywalk across the street, and I sneer at the Texas-plated red SUV. I balance the new potted plant I bought in one hand and open the door to the apartment building with the other.

I’m mentally chewing out the owner of the SUV when I run into a brick wall.

“Al, I’m so glad I caught you on my way out.”

“Ash?” I ask, looking up at one of my favorite people in the world—after my brothers and Eli of course.

“Hey, I need to tell you something,” he says, pulling me to the side of the lobby and sitting me down on one of the chairs. Ash sits on the coffee table, facing me, and the poor thing creaks under his weight.

“Damn, look at you all sexy and fit,” I say, and wink.

“Yes, yes, I look amazing?—“

“And your hair is longer?—”

“I know, I’m hot. Listen?—“

“What’s the rush? Come up to my place and we can chat for a bit. Sorry I didn’t come see you at training camp this year.”

“Al, listen to me?—“

“Ooh, I need to send you a manuscript of my book too?—“

“Jordan’s back.”

My smile instantly falls. Fuck. I knew he was coming back because his sister told me a few weeks ago, but I thought I had more time to come to terms with the fact that he’d be back. Here, in my life. The place he ran away from and left me heartbroken.

“Oh.” That’s all I muster to say as I chew on my bottom lip.

Ash reaches out with a thumb and stops my ministrations. His look is one of sadness but also understanding.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

I shake my head and force myself to smile. “Hey, it’s fine. I knew he’d be back eventually.”

“There’s more.” My smile falls again and Ash grimaces. “He’s subletting my apartment.”

I gulp. “You mean, the one across the hall from mine?”

“That’s the one.”

“Yay!” I weakly wave my free hand in the air.

“Are you gonna be okay?”

I sigh and run a hand through my shoulder-length blond hair. My curtain bangs fall back into my eyes and I blow them out of the way.

“Your haircut looks nice,” Ash says, tapping my shoe with his.

I tap his back and give him a small smile, “Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s not your job to look after everyone, you know?”

“Sure it is. It used to be Robbie but now that he’s a dad, his priorities have shifted. With good reason.”

“Oh, and you thought it should be you? You think you have what it takes to be the dad of the group?” I tease him.

Ash mocks his affront. “Naturally.”

“Ha! Good one, bud.”

His phone pings and he swears. “I’m sorry to cut this short, Al. I need to look at a house for sale.”

“Is it the one across the street from Robbie?”

“Yes!! You’ve seen it?” he asks, excitement written all over his face. Oh, this boy is trouble.

“I didn’t go inside, but if I could afford to buy a house, I’d totally buy that one,” I say, thinking of the pretty white ranch-style home. I may have stalked the hell out of it on Zillow.

“I have big plans,” Ash says, grinning like a fool. I shake my head at his antics and kiss his cheek.

“Good luck, Ash. Thanks for the heads up. Kick ass this season, yeah?”

“Anything for you, Al.”

I watch him leave the apartment building and square my shoulders on my way to the elevator. My heart beats fast as it approaches the third floor.

What am I going to say to him?

What is he going to say to me?

The elevator doors open but my body refuses to move. The doors close again and I shut my eyes tight, trying to put him out of my mind. But it’s pointless.

When I open my eyes, the man I’ve been in love with for almost a decade is standing in front of me, hands tucked in the pockets of his dark blue jeans.

His eyes are wide and his mouth opens like he might say something.

For a moment I want to fling myself into his strong arms and go back to that night before the trade.

Before he broke my heart.

Before he ruined me.

Tears spring to my eyes and I hate myself for being so weak around him.

I’ve thought about this moment so many times.

I promised myself that I would be on top of the world when I saw him next.

That I would keep my head held high and make him feel as small as he made me feel when he ditched me in January with no explanation.

But I can’t. Because even after everything, I still care about him. I still want what’s best for him. But that doesn’t mean he can just waltz back into my life and expect things to go back to normal. Again. I might be able to forgive the past, but I can’t forget .

I inhale deeply and take a determined step out of the elevator.

“Alice.” His deep velvety voice almost stops me in my tracks. God, how I’ve missed that voice.

It takes all my confidence and willpower to say, “Excuse me,” as I sidestep him and walk over to my apartment, not sparing a look behind me.