Page 3 of Slap Shot (Blades Hockey #5)

Weston

It takes three tries before Daisy picks up her phone. The second she does, I know that everything I read in that article is true. There hasnˇt been a single day since we met that Daisy hasnˇt answered one of my calls with a breezy, ¨Stop stalking me, Cain. Weˇve already talked about this.〃

Today, she doesnˇt say anything at all.

The silence is punctured by her shallow breathing, like sheˇs on the verge of breaking down, followed by the distinct metal sound of a locker door slamming shut. Since thereˇs no one around to watch me jam my key into the ignition, I peel out of the practice arenaˇs parking lot like my car is on fire. By the time Iˇm hauling ass onto the Pike, Iˇm done waiting for Daisy to break the silence.

¨Iˇm on my way.〃

I can hear her painstaking swallow even over the line. ¨Iˇm not at home.〃

¨I know youˇre not.〃

¨You canˇt come here.〃

¨You think I wonˇt?〃

She tries to laugh but it comes out sounding ragged. ¨Last time you showed up, you caused so much pandemonium, the rink banned me for a month straight.〃

¨Itˇs not my fault some kid posted a picture of me online and tagged the place.〃

¨Itˇs not your fault that people are obsessed with you, is that what youˇre trying to say?〃

¨If the skate fits . . .〃

¨I hate you.〃

¨I know you do.〃 Any other day, Iˇd be smiling at our usual fast-paced banter. Iˇm too worried to smile right now. Too worried and still too stunned, honestly, by the fact that the girl I thought I knew better than anyone, I might not know at all. ¨Iˇll be there in ten. Donˇt do anything stupid.〃

¨You say the sweetest things, West. Really. I just swooned.〃

¨Without me,〃 I correct smoothly. ¨Donˇt do anything stupid without me.〃

¨Ten minutes?〃

Blinker on, I change lanes. ¨Ten minutes.〃

¨Right. Well, I can probably hold off until then,〃 she says in a paltry attempt to be flippant. I donˇt need to see her to know that sheˇs holding back tears.

I make it to Daisy in seven minutes flat.

Shouldering my duffel bag, I head for the entrance, sending up a silent prayer that the local kids are still at school and there wonˇt be anyone but staff around. Any other day, Iˇd love the chance to meet some fans. Some guys in the league think that theyˇre above signing an autograph or two but thatˇs never been how I operate.

Sure, Iˇve made it this far in the league on my own merit, but Iˇd be an idiot not to account for all the love Boston has shown me over the years, especially when I was scraping the bottom of the barrel after my hip surgery. Yeah, sometimes the notoriety gets to me, but I figure thatˇs the price to pay for living the dream.

I signed away my privacy the second that I finalized my contract with the Blades.

So, when the guy at the front desk tries to let me through without paying the entrance fee, I not only hand over my card but pay another grand on top of it, asking politely if he wouldnˇt mind letting me and Daisy have the place to ourselves for the next hour. He stumbles over himself, eyes gone glassy with the sort of hero worship that has me shifting uncomfortably under all that unspoken praise, before waving me through with an effusive, ¨Sure, man, whatever you want. I mean, you got it, Mr. Cain. No problem!〃

I find Daisy already on the ice.

Sheˇs dressed in a pair of black leggings and a cream-colored sweatshirt that hangs loosely off one shoulder. Iˇve seen her in that UConn sweatshirt more times than I can possibly count. The fabricˇs faded from numerous washes, and sheˇs worn thumbholes through the sleeves. Her wavy blond hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail that swings across her face as she completes a double toe loop with the sort of mindless ease that comes from years of repetition.

She hasnˇt noticed me yet.

As she goes through a series of jumps, I study her closely as I lace up my skates. To anyone else watching, theyˇd be hard-pressed to look past all that effortless perfection. Even her expression gives nothing away. She could just as easily be putting on a performance for thousands as she could be skating for just herself. But I know Daisy Hall. Swear to God, most days I know her better than I know myself.

The girl who supported me making it to the NHL even when my parents tried to talk me out of it.

The girl who suffered a hamstring avulsion fracture on live TV, and then desperately tried to keep going, all so she could have a chance to still medal.

The girl who puts on a brave face every day of her life when people reduce her to ¨that skater who could have been something great one day.〃

I canˇt help but take note of the slight hunch in her shoulders as well as the strain bracketing her mouth thatˇs got nothing to do with old injuries. She may be skating like she was born to dominate the sport, but her head is a million miles away. I wait until sheˇs slowed down, hands propped on her hips, to step onto the ice.

¨Youˇre a badass, you know that?〃

The sound of my voice has her turning to look back at me over one shoulder. While there arenˇt any noticeable tear tracks staining her cheeks, her amber eyes are somber when she faces me head-on with her arms hugged tight around her middle. ¨You donˇt need to butter me up.〃

¨I know I donˇt.〃

¨Iˇm in deep shit.〃

¨Not gonna lie to you, Hall. Itˇs looking that way.〃

She visibly winces. ¨I already heard it all from Dad. And the board. And every other PR team they brought in today to tell me all the ways that Iˇve screwed up big time. So as much as I probably need to tell you everything, too, Iˇm not sure that I have it in me right now to hear you say that Iˇm the reason why hockey players all over the league are pissed off and wanting〃

The rest of her panicky rant ends in a gasp as I wrap my arms around her.

¨Weston.〃 My name is a breathy whisper on her lips.

¨Daisy.〃 Hers is a soft exhale on mine.

¨Youˇre hugging me.〃

¨Sounds about right.〃

¨ Why are you hugging me?〃

¨Because you need it.〃

¨Shit,〃 she expels raggedly, and then her small hands press flat along my spine. Even through my T-shirt and flannel, I can feel her nails digging in, like now that she knows that Iˇm not gonna hang her out to dry, she canˇt bear the thought of letting go. For a second, we stay like that, me holding her, her burrowing into me, before she releases a small sigh and lets her head fall forward onto my chest. ¨Theyˇre right. I fucked up.〃

¨You regret it?〃

I feel her hesitation, the way sheˇs weighing the pros and cons of being honest, before finally she shakes her head. ¨No. I donˇt.〃

¨Then you canˇt really say that you fucked up, can you?〃

At that, she lightly bangs her forehead against my sternum with a grim laugh. ¨Dammit, West. Why do you have to be so logical?〃

¨Part of the friendship pact, I guess. We canˇt both be a hot mess at the same time.〃

She pushes away from me gently. Immediately, the chill from the rink settles in all the warm places where her body just touched mine. I watch her closely as she scrubs a palm over her red-rimmed eyes, trying my best to reconcile the girl in front of me with the best friend whoˇs been with me through thick and thin since college.

My Daisy is sunshine personified.

This Daisy looks like sheˇs been shoved under a raincloud and told to weather the storm. Defeat slopes off her shoulders and anxiety has her chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Everything about her is dull and sad, and fuck , I hate that I canˇt erase the last twenty-four hours from everyoneˇs memory for her.

She lets her arms fall limply to her sides. ¨You probably have questions.〃

Anyone would, I think, but Iˇm not about to kick her when sheˇs already down. So, I go with one that feels important but wonˇtI donˇt knowcrush her spirit any more than itˇs already been crushed. ¨Did you ever wish that you could tell me?〃

¨Oh.〃 Surprise flashes in her gaze. ¨Thatˇs . . . You know, of everything you could have asked, thatˇs not the question I thought youˇd go with.〃

¨What, not predictable enough for you?〃

Her wane smile feels like it costs her every bit of effort. ¨I thought youˇd ask why I started the account in the first place.〃

¨Iˇm sure you have your reasons.〃

¨You donˇt want to know them?〃

¨I know that youˇll tell me when youˇre ready.〃

¨And you arenˇt going to yell at me?〃 Her beaten-down posture tells me that sheˇs probably spent the entire afternoon being berated by the Higher Powers That Be. After all, Kammer said that he saw her crying in the parking lot. And my Daisy, sheˇs not exactly one for breaking down in public placestoo many years, I think, spent shielding her emotions while being picked apart by coaches and judges.

Looking at her now, I clock the way sheˇs back to chewing on her bottom lip, and my chest gets real tight at the thought of Daisy being reamed out by Coach, the GM, and whoever else sat in on the meeting with her.

I lower my head a little, our height different so vast that I want to make sure she hears me loud and clear when I say, ¨You didnˇt murder anyone, Hall. And even if you did, Iˇd grab a shovel and ask you when and where to start digging.〃

That earns me a laugh. Itˇs watery, sure, and a little high-pitched, but still, I cling to it like a lifeline. Sheˇll be okay. Maybe not right now but soon.

¨Weston Cain, accomplice for murder?〃 She playfully swats me in the gut with her knuckles. ¨Not a chance.〃

¨When and where, Daisy. All Iˇm saying.〃

¨Hockeyˇs Golden Boy doesnˇt get his hands dirty for anyone.〃

¨And yet, Iˇd get them dirty for you.〃

¨Kiss ass,〃 she mutters, but sheˇs smilinga real, soulful kind of smileand I find myself smiling right back. Itˇs instinct at this point, a habit embedded in my DNA. Thereˇs not much I wonˇt do to put a smile on Daisy Hallˇs face . Doesnˇt matter that I still donˇt know what prompted her to start Confessions of a Puck Bunny . Curiosity aside, Iˇm not gonna push her to tell me more when sheˇs already looking so emotionally drained. It can wait another day.

Iˇm a patient guy. Ambitious, yeah, but patient. Itˇs what Iˇm known for on the ice. Other D-men play with the kind of rough physicality that keeps players on their toes because they donˇt want to end up getting personal with the boards. Me on the other hand? Iˇm in it for the long haul, the shadow you canˇt outrun. I learn your habits, decode your ticks, then unravel that shit in front of twenty-thousand fans.

So, yeah, patience. Iˇve got it in spades.

Which is why Daisy catches me totally by surprise when she clarifies, ¨Itˇs not that I didnˇt want to tell you.〃 She rolls the pink flesh of her bottom lip between her teeth. Just when I think that sheˇs about laugh this whole thing off, her gaze flicks away nervously. Softly, almost apologetically, she adds, ¨Youˇre my best friend, West.〃

It occurs to me that weˇre slowly circling each other; that as close as were just seconds agophysically, emotionallythere seems to be an invisible wall sprouting into existence between us, leaving me on one side with her on the other. Fuck if I know what to do with all the awkward glances she keeps sending my way. Me and Daisy, we donˇt do awkward. Since we met almost ten years ago, weˇve been glued together at the hipto the point where the guys on the team like to joke that Iˇm too close with the coachˇs daughter.

Closeness isnˇt a problem right now.

Not when Daisyˇs watching me with an expression akin to dread. Then blunt understanding dawns a second later, and I almost rock back on my skates from the force of it. ¨You didnˇt trust me with this.〃

As if warding off a chill, she folds her arms around her middle again. ¨Me not telling you about Bunny has nothing do with trust.〃

¨The look on your face says otherwise, Hall.〃

¨I trust you, West. Thereˇs no one I trust more.〃

Five minutes ago, I would have believed her.

But thereˇs something in her gaze that has the hair on my nape standing on end.

¨Maybe, yeah.〃 I want to be respectful when sheˇs clearly hurting. Not gonna lie, though, it feels like all the airˇs left my lungs. As if Iˇm standing in the middle of landmine, not knowing where the explosives are beneath my feet. One wrong move and weˇre both fucked. With my heart thudding loudly in my ears, I hear myself say, ¨Tell me whateverˇs runninˇ through your head.〃

¨Youˇre a hockey player.〃

Thatˇs it youˇre a hockey player as if I havenˇt always been a hockey player. As if we havenˇt built a raw kind of vulnerability between us over nearly a decade of late nights and early mornings and every fucking second in between.

¨When has playing hockey ever stopped me from having your back?〃

She squeezes her arms around herself even tighter. ¨It hasnˇt.〃

¨Then why would it be any different now? What, because I lack the empathy to understand that some of my peers are shit human beings?〃

¨Weston, itˇs not like that. Iˇm not〃 She drags in a sharp breath. ¨Iˇm not explaining this well.〃

¨Youˇre not explaining it at all.〃 Somewhere in the back of my head, alarm bells are going off that we canˇt be having this conversation here. I might have paid for some private rink time but that doesnˇt mean the staff can just take a hike during their shift. There are eyes and ears everywhere; though it might feel like it, we arenˇt alone. I know all that, I do, but my chest is aching like Iˇve just been delivered the killing blow from the one person whoˇs always been my safe place. Because thatˇs who Daisy is to me.

Home .

¨I didnˇt come here to berate you. I didnˇt fuck .〃 I spear my fingers through my hair, tugging restlessly on the strands. ¨I didnˇt come here to tell you that youˇre wrong for calling players out on their shit because I donˇt think you are wrong. Honest to God, Daisy, youˇve got balls of steel to keep this under wraps for as long as you have, knowing that youˇve been doing a good thing when the league would rather turn a blind eye. And maybe . . . maybe I should have seen it soonerthat youˇre Bunnybecause that kind of courage is rare, practically nonexistent. Except that every day for the last nine years, youˇve never failed to show me how brave you are.〃

She isnˇt skating now.

Neither am I.

The air has never felt so heavy between us. Heavy like thereˇs something starting to rot at the core of our foundation. Or maybe itˇs always been rotten. Maybe I just never noticed that weˇve been building a lifetime together atop shaky ground.

¨Youˇve always wanted honesty from me.〃 Roughened by the hurt still licking at my heart, my voice is low, raspy. ¨Youˇve told me that a thousand timesthat I could be the hotshot hockey player with the boys, and the dutiful son with my parents, but with you . . . With you, I can just be me .〃

She takes one hasty lunge toward me, but I skate back, maintaining careful distance. I think it might be the first time since we met that I havenˇt willingly dropped everything to run to her side. A fact that seems to register to her, too, because her expression suddenly crumples.

¨Thatˇs what I want,〃 she says fervently. ¨Thatˇs all Iˇve ever wanted.〃

¨I wanted the same from you. Thought I had it, too. Except for the fact that you clearly wonˇt let me see all of you after youˇve spent years asking for all of me .〃

At that, she rocks backward, her weight shifting quickly to stay upright on her blades. I watch her press a hand to her heart as if sheˇs having trouble breathing, and I almost cave then and there. Almost drop to my knees right in front of her on the ice and beg for forgiveness.

Somehow, I hold my ground.

¨I didnˇt ask if you regretted not telling me,〃 I say quietly. ¨Some things are personal. Some roads youˇve got to walk alone. I get that, I do. I asked if you ever wished that you could have shared this with me, to let me stand by your side. Clearly, the answer to that is no.〃 Because Iˇm a hockey player. Because she closed the door on a corner of her life while expecting full access to mine.

This isnˇt how I planned for this conversation to go. Emotions are running high. Weˇre both feeling hurt. If I dig deep, I know that her posting anonymously has nothing to do with me. We can be best friends without being codependent. Itˇs called having healthy boundaries, something sheˇs clearly set in place for herself. Still doesnˇt lessen the sting of knowing that Iˇve always poured my heart out to her while sheˇs been keeping hers locked up tight, though.

Fuck, I gotta get out of here.

I say as much, barely waiting for a reply before Iˇm hightailing it over the boards. She calls out after me.

No. No, sheˇs begging for me not to go.

And maybe I have even less boundaries than I thought because I canˇt bring myself to ignore her. Sheˇs got me wrapped around her finger, a star perpetually caught in her orbit. I turn to find her just a few feet away, panic flooding her expression. Then I drop my gaze from her face to see the way sheˇs reaching for me, as though she can keep me from running away.

Heart thudding, I rasp out her name.

¨I couldnˇt tell you.〃 Throat working, she pins her hands to her sides. ¨I promised myself that I never would.〃

¨Daisy〃

¨Be angry with me. Yell at me, if you want.〃 Her chin lifts as a single tear slips down her cheek. ¨I never wanted to risk your career, West. Youˇve worked too hard. Overcome too much.〃 She scrubs that tear away with a quick pass of her palm. ¨I told myself that Iˇd never, ever let you get stuck in the mess with me if I ever got found out.〃

Years ago, we said that weˇd hold each otherˇs hand when shit got tough. Maybe I took it too seriously, that silly promise between two na?ve kids who barely knew each other. Maybe I should be down on my knees and kissing her feet for damning herself to Hell alone rather than bringing me down with her.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

So why do I feel so short of breath? That panicky, too-quick rhythm of my pulse that I havenˇt felt in years, not since I was a kid trying to relate to my peers and always feeling about ten steps behind. Then again, the only time I really ever feel like Iˇm on even playing field is when Iˇm on the iceor when Iˇm with Daisy.

Gruffly, I say, ¨I didnˇt ask you to do that. Protect me like that, I mean.〃

¨I know.〃

¨I didnˇtI wouldnˇt〃 Frustrated, I inhale through my nose and let it out just as slowly. ¨I donˇt want you making decisions for me, Hall. Thatˇs not how this friendship is supposed to work.〃

Looking miserable, her voice is small when she replies, ¨Iˇm so sorry, West.〃

I know she is. Shame is written all over herI can see that now.

So, I try to smile for her. Try my fucking best, honestly, because I shouldnˇt be upset when she was just trying to look out for me. Only thing is, the smile Iˇm offering feels wooden. It doesnˇt sink deep into my bones and warm me from the inside out, the way being with Daisy always does. ¨Youˇre gonna be fine,〃 I tell her. ¨Coach will figure it out.〃

¨Thatˇs not〃 She shakes her head, her blonde ponytail swishing across the tops of her narrow shoulders. ¨I donˇt care about that. I mean, obviously I do, but it doesnˇt matter . . . None of it matters if you donˇtif we donˇt . . .〃 Trailing off with a curse, her fingers flex as if sheˇs doing everything she can not to reach out and touch me. ¨Are we going to be fine?〃

Yes.

I hope.

I donˇt like the way it feels, knowing that you shut me out.

But instead of admitting any of that, I just force the wooden smile on my face into something that Iˇm hoping doesnˇt reflect any of the turmoil rioting in my heart. I donˇt hug her this time, and she doesnˇt jump into my arms, the way sheˇs done for years.

¨Yeah, Daisy-belle. Weˇre gonna be just fine.〃