My life settles into a new norm. After the initial shock of Josh’s deceit, along with the gushy photos he posted of himself on Instagram, pictured with different women, half drunk with glazed eyes, sliding off a barstool at Corks, I realize how much better off I am.
Why did I stay in a one-sided relationship for as long as I did? Why did I allow myself to internalize Josh’s barbed words and backhanded compliments for as long as I have?
I’m strong and confident. I’ve worked hard, with the help of Dad, Missy, and Mila, to find self-worth in the wake of my mom’s barbed words, Tim Clancy’s hurtful remarks, and a string of unfulfilling relationships. I deserve more, at least what I invest, and Josh never gave me half of that.
As the weeks roll into each other and I find my footing with the Tennessee Thunderbolts, everything improves. It’s easier to wake up in the mornings and take a brisk walk, clearing my mind and mentally organizing my day. I enjoy my morning coffee, sitting in my beautiful living room with pops of bright color, reading the news on my phone.
I buy Lux some new rocks for her fish tank and spruce up the succulents on the windowsill in my kitchen. I join my sister for more happy hours and head over to my parents’ house for Sunday dinners or a weekend coffee.
Slowly, I take back pieces of myself that I lost. Parts of my personality I loved before Josh drove them into the ground. Before Tim belittled my intelligence and swiped at my confidence. Before they both amplified the insecurities my mother saddled me with during my teenage years, when she constantly, maybe unknowingly, compared my figure, my grades, me, to Missy.
I realize that the way I was living wasn’t living at all. I was existing, getting through one day just to make it through another. My hours were stuffed with never-ending tasks that resulted in hurtful comments and disappointment.
Now, I’m digging myself out of that gloomy place. I’m realizing how great it can be. Living. Having the freedom to order out on a Monday night just because I’m craving fish tacos or watch whatever I want on Netflix without consulting someone else. I can invite my sister to sleep over and stay up late, drinking wine and watching old movies. I love the peace of mind, the clarity, I possess when I used to be filled with self-doubt and anxiety. Overanalyze much? I did.
And now, I don’t have to, and it feels so good. Liberating. Finally, I see what Dad’s been trying to show me for years; I understand the motivation behind Mila’s pep talks. I value the gift of manifestation my college professor introduced me to. For once, I’m living the life they constantly reminded me I was capable of choosing.
I’m walking into The Honeycomb on a Monday, a hot coffee in hand, a whistle on my lips, when I nearly run into River Patton.
“Morning, River,” I say, smiling at him. He’s young, gruff, and has the biggest chip on his shoulder I’ve ever encountered. But when he came to apologize to me my first week with the Bolts, he was sincere. For that alone, I cut him some slack and over the past few weeks, we’ve become acquaintances.
“Hey, Mais,” he greets me. “Why the hell you whistling?”
“Because it’s Monday.”
“Exactly,” he mutters sarcastically.
“We’ve got the whole week ahead of us. It’s like starting with a clean slate.”
River shoots me a bewildered look. I smile at him and after a moment, he shakes his head and groans out, “You’re too damn sunny, Maisy.”
“You’re welcome,” I toss back, walking into the office.
When I enter, with River on my heels, I pull up short when I spot Axel waiting at my desk. In fact, he’s seated right in front of it, looking at his phone.
“Hey!” I say.
He looks up, his expression clearing for a beat when he notices me, and then darkening again when he sees River. Uh-oh, I’ll have to tell Axel that River apologized and we’re good.
“See you later, Mais.” River smartly removes himself from the situation.
I round my desk, drop my purse in the corner, and sit down.
“How are you?” I ask Axel.
“Good,” he says gruffly. “You?”
“Much better. Thank you, Axel, for…everything. I meant to call you, but I don’t have your number and haven’t seen you around.” I inch closer and drop my tone. “I’ve never had anyone stand up for me the way you and Devon did. It meant a lot.”
Axel clears his throat, looking around the space uncomfortably. Right now, we’re the only two people in the office since Betty is most likely preparing her coffee in the kitchen. Of course, I’ve seen him since my first week of work but never alone, never where I could thank him for all he did for me.
“It was nothing.”
“It was something,” I counter, wanting him to know how touched I was by his actions. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind and I’ve tried to seek Axel out a few times but have never managed to come face to face with him, just the two of us. Until now.
“You’re welcome,” he says finally, tugging on the back of his neck. “I’m, uh, hoping you can help me with something.” He pulls out his wallet and drops his license and insurance cards on the desk.
“Sure,” I say, switching back into work mode. I fire up my computer and log in, picking up Axel’s cards. I grin. “Your middle name is Raphael?”
“After the painter,” he says glumly.
“Seriously?”
“My mom was an artist.”
“Oh my God, that’s so cool!” I wait for more details and receive none. “Please, tell me more…”
He does that thing where he looks like he’s going to smile, but his lip falls at the last second. “There’s not much to tell. Mom studied art history before giving painting a go. She lived in this little studio in the Village in New York for most of the sixties.” He snorts. “The stories she used to tell… She would have loved you.”
His use of the past tense slams into me. “She passed?”
He nods, a streak of anguish blazing across his face. “Both of my parents, a few years back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He clears his throat.
Sensing he doesn’t want to talk about it, I stack his cards and tap them against the desk. “What are these for?”
“Oh, right.” He shakes his head, as if clearing it. “I need to add Lola to my health insurance. She was under her mom’s plan when she started at UT because she had better coverage here than my plan offered. But now that I’m a resident of Tennessee, my coverage is more comprehensive.”
“Sure,” I say easily, reaching into my drawer to pull out a paper. “Can you fill out this form? And then, just send me a copy of her ID when you have a chance.”
He takes the slip of paper and I pass him a pen. Head bent, Axel fills out the information. I study him. The fullness of his eyebrows, the thickness of his hair. Everything is…rich. A chocolate, espresso color that contains a fullness that is so manly, my body tightens from his proximity.
His handwriting is slightly slanted but bold, just like him. He writes in all caps and it makes me smile because he’s the opposite of shouty. He’s quiet and perceptive, often unnerving.
“Do I have something in my hair?” he asks quietly.
“What?”
He looks up, his eyes amused. “You’re staring.”
“Oh.” I sit up straight, feeling my cheeks burn for being obvious. For being called out.
Axel’s expression softens. “Are you coming out for the Rookie’s birthday?”
“Cole Philips?”
Axel looks like he’s trying not to laugh. I’m not much of a hockey girl and I only know Cole’s the rookie because the whole team calls him Rookie. “That’s the one.”
I grin cheekily. “Har har. But no, I’m not going. I don’t really know him and—”
“You should come.”
I wrinkle my nose. Axel stares back.
“Won’t that be strange? I mean, we’ve met a few times but we’re not friends and—”
“You’re part of the Bolts, Maisy. He’d be happy to have you,” Axel responds decisively.
“You think so?”
At my wariness, Axel’s expression softens, tenderness sweeping his gaze. “I know so. Come. We’re just doing dinner and getting drinks at Corks.”
“I can’t make dinner. I have a late meeting with Betty, but drinks sound good.”
“Want a ride? I can pick you up?”
At his offer, a shiver rolls down my spine. Is he offering to be nice, because my house is on the way to Corks? Or because he wants to pick me up? There’s a difference and I desperately want his reason to be the second scenario.
“Okay,” I agree.
Axel smiles. He actually smiles with both sides of his mouth, and it renders me speechless. His teeth are a pearly white, a sharp contrast against the dark brown of his beard. And oh my, he is gorgeous. Not just hot or gruff or burly. When Axel smiles, he exudes all the warmth he keeps under wraps and it’s sexy. “Okay. I’ll swing by around 8:30. Here, give me your number. If I’m running late, I’ll message.”
I smile back, knowing what he’s doing. He’s flirting with me. He wants to pick me up; he wants my number.
I rattle it off and try not to squee when my phone chirps with a text from him, sharing his number.
Instead, I busy myself with scanning his cards and paperwork. I pass him the cards. “Once you send me Lola’s ID, I’ll get her added to your insurance.”
“Great. Thanks, Maisy. I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you,” I say, watching him leave the office.
“Whew! That was some smolder,” Betty announces.
My head whips in her direction and I burst out laughing when I notice her sitting at her desk, fanning herself with a paper plate.
“Betty! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“How could you with all that man muscle looking at you like a snack?” she responds reasonably.
“Oh God!” My palms slap over my bright red cheeks.
Betty laughs and shakes her head. “He’s a good one, doll. Too serious, but as good-hearted as they come.”
I nod, knowing exactly what she means.
Axel isn’t showy like Devon. He’s not a goofball like Damien Barnes or sullen and moody like River. He’s just quiet, perceptive, and real.
But he’s got a big heart and big hands and right now, I want them both.
Betty reaches over and passes me a plate. I join her, fanning myself, as the color in my cheeks recedes and my blood pressure normalizes.
But my heart skips another beat, and my thoughts stay tangled up on Axel, and tonight, for the rest of the day.
If there ever was a birthday to crash, it would be the Rookie’s. Cole Philips is one of the nicest, most down to earth, innocent guys on the team. He’s thoughtful, kind, and considerate. In many ways, he reminds me of a younger Axel but, surprisingly, the guy on the team who has taken Cole under his wing is Devon.
As such, Mila is attending Cole’s birthday dinner and drinks and knowing that my best friend will be nearby eases some of the nerves in my stomach as 8:30 PM ticks nearer.
Hanging with the Bolts is good for me. For sure, it’s an ego boost, to be surrounded by so many wildly attractive and larger than life athletes who could pummel Josh with their pinkie fingers. But it’s more than that. When I’m with them, I feel protected. There’s a sense of security that’s been present from the beginning, right when Mila met Devon, that all the guys extended to both of us. At first, I thought their kindness and concern toward me was because I’m Mila’s friend. That may be part of it, but it’s not all of it. Because the inclusivity I’ve felt from the Bolts is more than what I experienced from the Knoxville Coyotes.
When Mila dated star quarterback Avery Callaway, the other players were nice. They tolerated my presence and, except for Cohen who became a sincere and close friend, only made small talk on occasion. But I wasn’t one of them, never truly in the fold. They didn’t invite me to birthday dinners or seek me out to say hello at team events I attended.
With the Bolts, it already feels different. I belong in a way I never did with the Coyotes. Maybe it’s because I now work in HR, but I felt the connection before starting my new job. The realization of both eases and heightens my nerves about tonight.
I want Axel to like me because of how much I admire him. But I also want Axel to like me because I want a chance of belonging to the Thunderbolts the way Mila does. Fully.