Page 47 of Love Me (Charlotte Monarchs Hockey #1)

“You’re right, it’s the nature of the game.

Period. I don’t blame anyone for taking me out, Luke.

I mean, I did get pissed when I recognized you.

My first instinct was to fuck you up, but I’ve known all along that it wasn’t just one hit or one person that ended my could-have-been career.

The hit was clean.” Mason tosses the remote control to the TV onto the coffee table in front of him.

“I had a list of concussions a mile long going into that game. That just happened to be the last one. Having something—or some one —to blame made it easier to handle. But it wasn’t your fault. ”

I’m relieved that he sees it that way. I never blamed the dude who slammed me into the boards and took me out either, but I don’t know how I’d react if I found out my sister was dating him. If I had a sister, that is.

“How did you recognize me?” I ask.

“Fuck if I know.” Mason runs a hand through his dark, shaggy hair. “Your face must’ve triggered a memory I didn’t even know I had tucked away. It tripped me out.”

“I get it. Seeing you triggered a memory for me, too.”

Mason pauses and peers at me. His blue eyes are identical to Bree’s, and it freaks me out. “Have you had that on your mind all these years? Thinking you took someone out of the game?”

“Honestly?” I ask, then shake my head. “No. I didn’t even think about it until I got hit myself.”

“So, you didn’t give a shit until you realized you were dating the sister of the guy you took out?” Mason asks dryly.

“I didn’t know my hit ended your career,” I tell him. “I asked about you after the game, and your coach told mine that you were fine. I didn’t think anything of it since it wasn’t malicious. Hell, do you ever think about any of the checks you delivered?”

Mason shakes his head. “Fuck no. That’s the game.”

“Exactly. So, when I saw you at Bree’s and realized who you were, I freaked. She’s been telling me about you and your injury for months. And come to find out it was me.” I tap my chest with my index finger. “I’m the person who ruined her brother’s life.”

“Yeah, that’s a complete mind fuck.” Mason laughs. “I get it. I’ve been lost and depressed for the last seven years, then I get here and see Bree happier than I’ve ever seen her. And the reason she’s so happy is you.”

I swallow hard, and the tension finally releases its hold on my shoulders and neck.

“I hear you went out with a shitty fluke injury, too.”

“Yeah. Compressed disc. Paralysis if get hit again.” I use my hand to mimic a flapping mouth.

Mason laughs. “Dude, I hear that. Stupid fucking concussions are not how I expected to leave the game.”

“It’s hard to believe when someone tells you you’ll never play again, right?” I can’t believe I’m admitting that my days of playing professional hockey are over—that’s been one of my biggest hurdles.

“It’s been seven years, and I still can’t believe it,” Mason says in a faraway voice.

“I know it sucks going down before your time. I’ve been working through that myself over the last year. But it’s just a game, man. There are so many ways you can still be involved.”

“It’s not just a game, and you know it.” Mason looks past me.

“You’re right. It’s not just a game. It’s who we are.

It’s how we eat, sleep, and breathe. It’s how we define ourselves.

And it takes time to find a new identity.

” I pause. “But eventually, you have to find one. You can’t hole up in your parents’ mansion playing video games for the rest of your life. ”

Mason reaches up and scratches his head lazily, and I realize that might not sound like a bad thing to him.

I continue, “I spoke to a friend of mine in the Kings organization the other day. They have a scouting role open, and he asked if I knew anyone who might be a good fit.”

The silence between us lasts longer than I expect. Mason’s eyes get wider as if he’s searching for clarity. “What? You want me to ask around?”

“No, Mason, I don’t want you to ask around,” I say. How much did those concussions mess up this dude’s head? “I’m offering to get you guys in touch. It’s not a sure thing. You’ll still have to interview and all that.”

“Are you serious?” He sits up.

“Yeah.”

Mason’s eyebrows veer closer together. “Did Bree put you up to this?”

“No. But she’s gonna love me for it.” My lips spread into a grin. I can’t help it. I love the girl.

“She will.”

I’m jonesing to see Bree, but Mason is my focus for the time being. “The travel sucks, and the pay is shit, but you’re back in the mix, working with young guys and the scouting staff of a professional team. It’s a foot in the door. What do you say?”

“Well, when you put it that way—” Mason jokes.

“You can interview for a scouting position with the Kings, or, ya know, you can keep being the Swirly Chix taste tester.”

“You should make my life sound a lot worse if you want me to go for the job,” Mason quips.

“It doesn’t get much worse than being a middle-aged gamer with a craft-beer belly still living with Mom and Dad.” I tilt my head toward his middle.

Mason’s hands fly to his flat stomach as his face twists with the adequate amount of faux horror. Then he smiles and extends his hand. “Deal.”

“That was easy.”

“I’m desperate to get involved in the game again. My dad has a ton of contacts, but I wanted to do it myself. That sounds fucked, right?”

“No, it doesn’t. It sounds mature.” I don’t add that, technically, he still didn’t do it himself because I’m not a complete dickbag. And me helping him is better than asking Daddy.

“I could’ve reached out to former teammates, too,” he adds. “It’s hard to ask for help from friends when you feel like a failure.”

I nod.

“The weight of depression is real.”

“That is a true statement.”

Suddenly, the condo door opens. Bree to the rescue.

“Hello?” she calls out, closing the door behind her. “I brought my first-aid kit in case you two beat the crap out of each other. Do I need it?”

“Nope. Luke’s getting me a job—sort of. An interview,” Mason answers, rising from the couch.

“Really?” Bree asks, looking back and forth between her brother and me.

I nod.

“I’ll get the deets from you later,” he says, walking backward toward the door. “Thanks again, Luke. I’m heading out. It smells like puke in here. Open a fucking window, dude.” He lifts the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose and shuts the door behind him.

It’s just me and Bree now.

“I can get you a job, too,” I tell her.

“I’m not looking for a job.”

“Well, I wasn’t looking to fall in love, but I did.”

I take a step toward her and place my hands on her hips. She doesn’t back away or harden her stance. If anything, she relaxes in my grip, which tells me she’s forgiven me.

“You are different and funny and sexy and kind. I’ve never felt more comfortable or more attracted to anyone in my life.

” I stop and press my forehead to hers. “I know I fucked up, Bree. I don’t know why I chose to lie and run.

But I do know I can’t live without you. If you’re moving back to California, then I’m moving there, too. ”

“I’m not moving back, Luke.”

“You’re not?” I ask.

“Nope.” She grins and cups my face in her warm hands. “I want to be in Charlotte with you. Whatever you need right now. I’m not asking for forever—yet.”

“What if that’s what I want? Forever. Right here. Right now. With you.”

“We don’t have to make that decision this second.” She lets go of my face to wipe a tear from her cheek.

“No, we don’t. You stood by my side and helped me make sense of things—my mom, life after hockey—and you helped me finally realize I’m good enough.

I’ve been able to break through some difficult mental roadblocks over the last few months, and I couldn’t have done that without my amazing, sexy California girl. ”

“Being with you has helped me, too, Luke.”

“Really?” I ask, filled with pride. I need the praise right now. I need to hear I’ve made some small impact on her.

“With you by my side, I found my voice and my purpose. I’ve been able to see a different perspective, and I finally allowed myself to let go of my family’s expectations.

My superpower is taking care of people and helping them through their darkest times.

But I’m human. I can’t save everyone. I can only do my best, shift after shift, day after day.

” Bree blushes. “You made me see myself. You make me feel strong and empowered.”

“I needed to hear that. I also need to hear that you love me as much as I love you.”

“You know I do.” She looks away, biting her bottom lip as if in thought. “I’m not sure if this is the right time to bring this up, but there’s something we need to discuss before we can truly move forward.”

I swallow and nod for her to continue, doing my best not to stiffen. As if she senses my panic, she caresses my face with her hand.

“Luke, when you spiral—” She pauses. “It scares me. Not the spiral itself, but the dark thoughts that bring you down. You have a very skewed perception of yourself. And no matter how many people tell you how amazing and strong you are, you aren’t going to believe it until you believe in yourself.

I think talking to someone would be beneficial for our healing and growth. ”

“Talking to someone like?—”

“Therapy.” Bree says the word with me, rubbing my upper arm.

“As in we both need therapy or just me?” I ask, jaw tightening, steeling myself for the answer I need to hear.

“Everyone needs therapy.” She chuckles. “I definitely have some things I need to work through regarding my family. Not to mention the stress of my job. It gets overwhelming, and having a neutral party to talk to helps.”

I nod, bringing her in for a hug and resting my chin on top of her head. “Talking to someone is a good idea,” I admit, my voice hoarse with acceptance.

She’s right. Even if therapy terrifies me, relying on her to bring me out of my darkness isn’t fair.

She squeezes me. “I’m still here for you. I’m your biggest fan.”

“Yeah, well, after therapy, I might be my own biggest fan,” I tease. “Can you imagine what kind of ego I’ll have when I accept how awesome I am?”

Bree pulls back slightly and looks into my eyes. “I’ll take your ego over self-loathing any day.”

“We’re kind of a power couple, you know? If we stay together forever, we may be able to solve some of the biggest problems on Earth.” I hold her at the waist. “Like world peace or how many licks it takes to get to the?—”

Instead of letting me finish, Bree grabs my face and says, “Save your licks for more interesting research, Luke.” Then she presses her lips to mine.

I immediately fold my arms around her and lift her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I cradle her in my arms without separating our mouths. When we finally do, she’s flushed and breathless.

“I want to ask you to marry me,” I say. “Not today, but soon. Would that be okay?”

The curve of her lips and the shine in her eyes tell me she remembers the moment at Jack’s funeral when I spoke similar words. The day I realized I needed her in my life and asked her if I could ask her out on a date.

“Yeah, Luke,” she says with a nod, repeating her exact answer. “That would definitely be okay.”

I’ve worked hard for everything in my life. How hard I had to work has always been the measure of how important something was because nothing has ever come easy to me.

Settling down with the amazing, selfless woman in my arms didn’t come easy, but every moment with her feels that way. Comfortable, as if we’ve known each other all our lives. She loves and appreciates me just as I am. She helps me forgive my own weaknesses because she believes in my strength.

Without having met Bree, I might never have been able to break away from how I felt about myself—and maybe that’s what real love is all about.