Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Bash

A bumpy plane landing wakes me from a deep sleep. I wipe the drool away from my mouth and sit up.

We left Vancouver late last night and we’re arriving in Tampa now. The regular season has started with a bang. We left Cleveland a few days ago for a six-day stretch of travel. With the crazy travel hours, we have to just catch sleep when we can and make do with what we get.

We’re 3–0, though, so no one’s complaining.

Missing Lainey is a lot harder on me than the travel. We got three nights together before I left, and we made the most of them.

I wasn’t her first, but there was so much she’d never experienced before me. Shitty Shane never gave her oral. He never tried ass play or fingering her. From what she’s said, he’s as boring and vanilla as I would’ve guessed.

Fine by me. It’s incredible seeing her experience things for the first time. She’s adventurous, with encouragement. Every time we’re together, her confidence grows.

Though I didn’t even realize it was happening, I found the one. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t like being away from Lainey. There’s no way around it when I’m traveling for hockey, but that’s not what I’m most concerned about.

I can’t stop thinking about the letter I sorted out of the pile of mail for her. The return address was in Israel. It has to be from the place that’s one of her top two choices for her next research position.

Just the thought of her going back to Columbus at the end of the semester is hard; I can’t even imagine her going to another fucking country.

Leo scowls at me as the interior lights of the plane are turned on.

“The fuck? Where are we?”

“Tampa.”

“Shit.” He rubs his face. “Feels like we took off five minutes ago.”

“We get to sleep for a few hours at our hotel,” I remind him.

“Good. I’m a zombie.”

It’s dark and humid out as we all file off the plane and walk to the bus that’s taking us to our hotel. My teammate Andrei has a newborn at home, so he doesn’t even sleep much there. He curled up in the corner of our locker room and took a nap yesterday.

I love this game. Even the demanding travel schedule. If it was easy, everyone would do it. The work and discipline it takes to hang with these guys is part of the reason I love and respect them so much.

But I’m turning twenty-nine next month, and I’m starting to think about having more than hockey in my life. I’ve been doing this for eleven years, and I’ve got a few more in me.

Then what, though? I’ve always known I wanted kids, and I’m not sure how Lainey feels about that. She’s worked hard to get where she is, and all the dreams she talks about are professional.

Does she want a family? She’s only twenty-four, so I get why she might not be thinking about it yet.

It’s frustrating as hell, respecting what she does, but wondering if that’s her only priority.

Sort of like being with a pro hockey player; we can have relationships and get married, but our partners have to respect that we don’t get to choose where we live.

We travel eight months a year—if we’re in the playoffs—and we could get traded and have to upend our lives.

How do we make a relationship work when her career will be like that, too? I don’t like thinking about it. We’re still in that brand-new honeymoon phase, where everything is amazing and arguments don’t exist. I want to stay there, but Lainey’s only scheduled to be in Cleveland for two more months.

Two fucking months. Is that long enough to convince her to stay? I already know I want that. I want her Pop-Tart crumbs on my counter and her satin underwear on my bathroom floor. I want her in my bed. At my kitchen table. In the stands at my games. With me and my friends.

She has to want that, too, though. It’s too soon to buy a ring but damn if a big part of me isn’t ready.

When we get to our hotel, we all wait in the lobby with our bags as an assistant coach checks us in. It’s taking forever. Leo is already asleep on a lobby couch.

“Guys, I’ve got bad news,” Coach Turner says.

We all gather around to hear what he’s saying.

“There’s a problem. Firefighters have been fighting a massive fire here, and some of them needed to rest, so the hotel apparently left a message on someone’s voicemail in the front office that we’re getting seventeen rooms instead of thirty-five.”

Someone sighs heavily.

“No problem, Coach,” Carter says. “Tell ’em we’ll give up more rooms if the firefighters need them. We can double up in the beds.”

Everyone nods and murmurs their agreement. We’re tired, but it’s nothing compared to what firefighters do.

“Let’s buy them a meal,” Isaac says. “All the firefighters. Can someone from the team set that up?”

Our general manager, Marie Mathias, who’s traveling with us on this trip, answers.

“Absolutely. The team will take care of the arrangements and we’ll cover the cost.”

“What else can we do?” I ask.

“I’ll look into it,” Marie says. “Our game tomorrow night is still on as of now, but that could change depending on this fire.”

“For now, sleep,” Coach says. “Andy is working on room assignments. If you complain about your roommate, you’ll be sleeping on the bus.”

I’m paired with Andrei. We have to share a king bed, but he’s curled up on one side with his back to me, snoring before I even get my shoes off.

I’m tired, too. I had to watch video of my shifts from our last game on the flight, and I was only able to sleep for about the last twenty minutes of it.

And we’ll do it all again in a few hours—if the game doesn’t get canceled.

I plug my phone charger in and lie down, rereading the text Lainey sent me last night. There’s a photo of her and Bruce snuggling in my bed.

Lainey: We miss you! Good luck! Text me when you land. xoxo

She’s makeup-free in the photo, her hair damp from a shower. Her pajamas are covered in bananas wearing glasses and reading books.

I wish it was her beside me instead of Andrei.

I text her.

Bash: I miss you too. More than you know. We’re in Tampa and I’m about to get some sleep. Can’t wait to see you.

Turning my phone face down on the nightstand, I close my eyes, hoping I can sleep. My mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Lainey and the future.

Sleep doesn’t come easily. Now that I know what it’s like to be with her, I don’t know how I could ever go back to the way it was before.