Page 28

Old Sport

Aleks

She wanted to hit me.

I wanted to kiss her.

That was how it had always been with us.

“This is just… great. Just fucking perfect,” Mia said, throwing her hands up in disbelief before she sank down into my giant bean bag with a huff. As soon as she realized where she was sitting, she hopped up with a frustrated growl before stomping over to the couch, instead.

She hated that fucking thing, and I really wanted to laugh.

But nothing was funny in this moment.

The news about the hurricane shift had surprised all of us. It wasn’t unheard of, but the drastic shift toward Tampa had been highly unlikely.

No one like Mother Nature to remind us that highly unlikely never meant impossible .

We were just finishing up our morning skate, most of the team heading back to our homes for a nap and to load up on carbs when the news broke. Coach had quickly met with management, and before we knew it, the game had been canceled, our opponents told to shelter in place while our team was told to go home and prepare to evacuate if we were in an evacuation zone.

With so little time before the storm would hit, evacuation would be difficult.

Daddy P and Vince were definitely in those mandatory zones, one of them on Davis Island and the other right on the beach. Fortunately, they both had places to go that were more inland. Will, Chloe, and Ava would go to Will’s uncle’s house, and Maven and Vince would go to Mave’s parents’.

The rest of us would shelter in place, and I’d had the good sense to stock my condo with hurricane prep supplies just in case. I’d be good.

But I knew the second I picked Mia up and saw the mix of fear and anger on her face that I was in for a rough night whether the storm was bad or not.

She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head.

“What am I going to do?”

Under normal circumstances, I’d toss a smart-ass remark at her and smirk as that perfect mouth of hers gaped open at me, as her cheeks turned red and that little vein in her forehead popped. I knew exactly how to push her buttons, how to make rage pour through that normally put-together woman.

But right now, I just wanted to comfort her. That side of me I always kept tied up in the basement of my cold, dead heart was thrashing, urging me to go to her, to pull her into me, to hold her and find a way to make it right.

We’d barely talked in months.

She’d iced me out.

And selfishly, I was a bit happy about the sudden change in plans if it meant I’d get a night alone with her.

Maybe I could get her to talk to me. Maybe I could get her to tell me what the fuck has been going on since the day she firmly shoved me away.

Her dark hair fell over her shoulders in a silky curtain as I took the seat next to her. I hovered one hand over her slender back before I carefully, slowly, rubbed it. “I’m sorry.”

Mia froze under my touch.

There it was again, that shock of electricity between us, that zap of heat I felt any time my body made contact with hers.

But just when I thought she might melt into that touch, Mia yanked away, uncovering her face so she could properly glare at me. Those sharp blue eyes of hers narrowed into slits. “Well, you should be. This is all your fault.”

And just like that, we were back to sparring.

“My fault?” I gaped at her, smirking even with my mouth open because I wanted her to feel as ridiculous as she was being. “Mia, it’s a fucking hurricane. What the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

“You’re the whole reason I’m here instead of in New York to begin with. I’m doing all this to save your ass! And now, I have to cancel a sold-out show at Madison Square Garden.”

The truth of that seemed to hit her full force, her face going white.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered, burying her face again. “I have to cancel a sold-out show at Madison Square Garden.”

Any desire I did have to comfort her was receding now, held at bay by her accusation. “Saving my ass,” I repeated, tonguing my cheek. “So, this is all about me suddenly? I’m the big bad wolf and you’re just doing this to be a little saint, huh? Nothing at all in it for you?”

“Oh, shut up,” she spat, shoving me away. I barely budged.

“Because I’m pretty sure this was your publicist’s idea,” I reminded her.

“Well, your agent is the one who made me come here for your stupid game!”

“Made you?” I stood, jaw tight. “You are a woman with free will, Mia. In case you forgot. No one can make you do anything.”

She looked up at me then, her eyes softer, something in the relaxing of her jaw telling me I’d struck a nerve without trying.

No , I silently begged. Don’t do that. Don’t clam up. Fight me. Get mad. Tell me what’s going through your head.

“Whatever,” she said after a moment. The word was resigned, not laced with any sort of edge, and that upset me more than if she’d screamed it.

I could handle her yelling at me.

I couldn’t handle knowing I’d hurt her — even with all the practice I’d had over the years.

She sniffed, waving her hand in the air. “Do you at least have some tequila or something?”

“Need to get drunk to face the truth?”

“That I’m stuck in a high-rise condo with my fake fiancé with a hurricane barreling toward us?” She stood, a saccharine smile on her tight lips. “Um, yeah. Drunk is the bare minimum.”

She stormed past me and into my kitchen then, and I took a deep breath, letting it out as slowly and calmly as I could as I folded my hands together and rested them on top of my head. I stared up at the ceiling, debating converting to the first religion I could think of just to see if there was a god who could save me.

Mia needed to drink to get through this, and I needed to sit on my fucking hands.

Because she wanted to hit me, and I wanted to kiss her.

And with the two of us forced to stay together for the night, I had no idea how the hell I was going to keep up the charade of anything I felt for this woman being fake.

· · ·

Thirty minutes later, Mia was two tequila shots in — shots she sipped, because the kind of tequila I had in my house was meant to be savored — and had resorted to lying like a starfish on her back in the middle of my living room staring up at the ceiling. She alternated between long, heavy sighs and quiet little whimpers of despair.

“We’re going to be okay,” I assured her as I sat on the couch above where she was sprawled. I had my sneakers in one hand, and I dropped them to the floor next to me, pulling the first one on my foot and lacing it up. “I’ve got plenty of food and supplies if we lose power. Flooding is our biggest concern being downtown, but right now they’re not predicting the surge to be where it would impact us. And this building is brand new, it’s up to code, it’s sturdy.”

Mia nodded, her head lolling to the side as she looked at me. “While all of that is comforting, I’m being a bit of a selfish bitch right now and thinking about how I’m about to have to cancel the biggest tour debut of my career.”

“You won’t have to do that.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Isabella is working on it, and that woman can do anything. You can’t get out tonight, but that wasn’t your plan, anyway. It was always to fly tomorrow. And my bet is that you’ll still be fine to do exactly that.”

“What if the storm completely wrecks the airport?”

“Highly unlikely, but if that does happen, we’ll come together as a community and get it fixed. And there are other airports within two to five hours in several directions from here.”

Mia’s mouth pulled to the side. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“You worry too much,” I said, bopping her on the nose as I stood once my other shoe was on. I could tell she was a little tipsy, mostly because she seemed less likely to claw my eyes out.

I swiped my key fob off the kitchen island as I passed it, Mia scrambling up from the floor behind me.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I’ll be right back.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I just have something I need to do real quick.”

“There’s a hurricane outside.”

“We have some time before the worst of it hits.”

“So, what? You’re going out for a little stroll in the rain? A drink at the local bar?”

“Worried about me now, darling fiancée?” I asked, swinging my key ring around my finger with a grin.

She scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

I remembered another time she was worried about me. When I gave her reason to worry.

That version of myself felt far away now. It had been so long since I’d felt that desperate, that lonely, that… numb.

But I knew he was still inside me. He always would be.

“You could always come with me.”

“To go out in a hurricane? No, thanks. I’m not crazy.”

I chuckled. “Suit yourself.”

I only made it to the door before she let out a little huff of a groan behind me. “Wait! Wait a second, let me put shoes on.”

Five minutes later, we were out the door, Mia with her arms crossed and a massive hoodie on. She had the hood up and sunglasses to boot.

“You really think I’d put you in danger of the media or a fan frenzy right now?”

“Well? You won’t tell me where we’re going, so—”

Her words died when I stopped abruptly a few doors down from my own, knocking on the door of condo 2143. I slid my hands into my pockets, smirking as she blinked at the door first, and then at me, dumbfounded.

The door swung open before she had the chance to ask anything more.

“First a hurricane, the game canceled, and now a scoundrel showing up at my door?” The old man with his liver-spotted hands on the doorknob shook his head, scowling as if he were annoyed. But I knew him well enough to see right through it, especially when he opened the door wider for us to enter. “The good Lord must really be testing me today.”

“Nice to see you in such good spirits, old sport.”

He harrumphed at the nickname I gave him because he quoted The Great Gatsby the first time I met him, then he blinked, thin lips curling into an appreciative smile when Mia took her hood off.

“Well, now,” he mused, a hand at his stomach as he half-bowed. “If you aren’t the prettiest thing this old man has seen in decades.”

“Easy there,” I warned him when he reached out for Mia’s hand. “I don’t need you having a heart attack when the hospitals are all busy preparing for the storm.”

He scowled at me for only a second before his smile was back in place and aimed right at my fake fiancée.

“Mia, this is Otis Schwartz. Otis, Mia Conaway.”

“A true pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mia. Vous êtes charmante. ”

“He speaks French now,” I teased, folding my arms over my chest with an arched brow.

“And I speak just enough Swiss German to tell you to bug off, too, if needed.”

He quipped those words without so much as a glance my way, and I chuckled, shaking my head as I made my way farther into his condo. It was a very similar layout to mine, though a bit smaller, and filled with ornate furniture, curious art, and trinkets that evidenced the many travels he’d had in his lifetime. Old books and maps and globes decorated the space, most of the furniture antique wood of some kind, everything warm and a bit musty smelling even in a brand-new condominium building. He was old money rich, the kind where his parents and his parents’ parents never had to worry.

“I’m going to bring your furniture in,” I told him.

“Ah, so that’s why you barged in on this fine afternoon,” he said. The wind whipped angrily outside just as he said it. “How silly of me to think you might be joining me for a glass of brandy and a good conversation.”

“Safety first, booze second. Make mine a scotch, will you?”

Otis waved his weathered hand at me, but his smile was warm as he nodded, mouthing thank you . I nodded in return, a silent gesture to let him know there was no thanks necessary.

Otis was eighty-nine years old, a white man with most of his hair missing, other than little tufts of white lining the lower half of his skull. He had more hair coming out of his ears, if we were being honest. He slumped forward a bit even when standing, working hard to lift his head up to sass me, and he had a cane that he only used half the time he should be.

I met Otis at an Ospreys game last year when he was honored as our season ticket holder of the game. He’d been one ever since the organization was founded, and we hit it off quickly when he came to the locker room for pictures and to get autographs from the team.

When I was leaving the stadium that night, walking over to my condo, I noticed him as I approached the building. Stubborn old man had walked from the arena after the game, too, and it’d taken him so long to walk that I’d had time to have our game debrief, shower, and answer interviews and still caught up to him.

I’d walked him the rest of the way home, pleasantly surprised to find that he was my neighbor just a few doors down. Since then, he’d sort of… stuck. It was like I’d fed a stray cat and now he’d just show up on my doorstep from time to time wondering what was for dinner.

I’d never admit it to him or anyone else, but I liked his company.

And I forced him to let me help him, whether he liked it or not.

I listened to him charming Mia with a smile on my face as I moved his outdoor chairs and couch inside, pushing the furniture as much out of the way as I could. He had a few plants on his balcony, too, and I made sure to collect them before I shut the sliding glass door. It wasn’t raining too hard just yet, but the wind was already picking up, and the last thing anyone needed was this old man’s furniture or plants becoming projectiles in this storm.

I shook off the bit of rain that had gathered on me, taking off my shoes and setting them aside as I made my way toward where Otis and Mia were in the kitchen. Otis was regaling Mia with a story of his sailing days.

But Mia’s eyes were on me.

I thought she looked even less likely to stab me in my sleep now, her gaze soft and curious, head tilted just a bit to the side. I offered a small tilt of my lips, and as soon as I did, she blinked, her expression hardening as she turned back to Otis and dutifully ignored me as I approached them.

So much for progress.

“What are you doing now, you rascal?” Otis asked as I opened his pantry.

“Making sure you have enough food and water should we lose power for a few days and be trapped by flood waters.”

“Oh, I’ve been in Florida for most my life,” he said, batting the air with both hands. “We’ll be just fine.”

“Maybe. But just in case, always best to be prepared. Right, boy scout?” I patted him on the head as I passed, Mia chuckling a bit as the old man growled at me and swung too slow to actually hit me.

“Impossible, this one,” he muttered to Mia. I noticed he’d poured them each a glass of brandy, and a tumbler of scotch waited for me beside them. “Doesn’t know how to leave this old man alone.”

“Like you don’t show up at my place like a lost puppy nearly every other night during the offseason.”

“I’m bored without hockey. You’re a last resort to cure that boredom.”

“It’s okay to say you love me, Otis.”

“Love you like a thorn in my backside.”

But he smiled as he said it before he was back to charming Mia with more tales of his worldly travels.

On inspection, I found Otis did have a pretty decent amount of nonperishable food to get by, as well as a case of water. He did not, however, have a lantern or any kind of flashlight. After a quick jog down the hall to my place, I supplied him with a couple of mine, filled his bathtub with water just in case, and only then did I accept the liquor with my name on it.

“Cheers, old sport,” I said, tapping his glass with mine. “M’lady,” I said to Mia as I tapped hers.

She was still watching me with equal parts suspicion and curiosity in her eyes.

“So, now that you’ve heard how I met this brute,” Otis said, nodding toward me. “How do you two know each other?”

His bony finger waved between us, and I took a sip of my glass, raising a brow at Mia to let her answer.

“We grew up together,” she said simply.

“Mmm, and he hasn’t annoyed you enough to drop him yet, eh?”

“You’re brutal tonight, Otis,” I teased. “Really hurting my feelings here.”

“You don’t have feelings any more than I have real teeth.”

I chuckled, but my smile slipped a bit when I looked at Mia, who was watching me in a way I couldn’t quite decipher.

“He’s not so bad,” she said, her voice soft. “If you really know him.”

I swallowed at her sincerity, eyes searching hers as if I could find the answer to why she’d been so cold to me since the day of the fake engagement. But she tore her gaze away too quickly, clearing her throat and smiling at Otis before asking him another question about his life.

We didn’t stay much longer after that, mostly because I noticed Otis was yawning quite a bit and his eyelids were already drooping. I didn’t know how this man made it to half our games when he was usually asleep by seven.

Still, I could tell he was enjoying Mia’s company and attention, so until it was almost nine, I let him prattle on about the time he swore he discovered Gobekli Tepe before Klaus Schmidt. When we said our goodbyes for the night, I made Otis promise to call me or come over if he needed anything, and he made Mia promise to not let me chase her away so that he could see her again.

Mia was silent on the walk back to my condo, sliding inside without a word once I ran my key fob over the sensor and opened the door for her. She kicked off her slides, walked to the middle of the room, and stood there — just staring out at the wind-whipped rain visible through the windows in every direction.

It was dark, save for the lamp I’d left on down the hall in my room. Mia stood there like a ghost for so long I wondered if she really was one.

“Can I take a shower?” she finally asked.

“Of course.”

With that, she nodded, slowly dragging her feet down the hall toward the guest room I’d shown her to earlier. I’d been half-tempted to board that motherfucker up and pretend we only had my room available, but I wanted her to feel comfortable, safe — not even more stressed than I knew she already was.

“Mia,” I said when she was almost to the room.

She paused, leaving her back to me but angling her chin so I could see her profile, so I knew she was waiting.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

It was honest, and I also hoped it comforted her a bit in a situation that was completely out of her control.

But she barely acknowledged the statement at all, just a huff of a laugh through her nose before she disappeared into the guest room.