Liam
Every day I think I’ve hit my limit, that I can’t go another fucking second without knowing where Stormy’s head is. If there’s room in it for me. But I heard it with my own ears. She didn’t want me to know… and I can only hope she meant yet.
So somehow, I make it through another twenty-four hours of giving her the time and space she needs.
Fine, I still text every day. But for fuck’s sake, I need to know she’s okay.
And according to her, she is.
No, she doesn’t need me to run the charging block she left out to her place. Yes, the car is running fine. No, she doesn’t need anything before I leave town.
I don’t ask if she watches the games. I don’t know if she saw my assist tonight.
What I do know is that she hasn’t told me about the baby. She still isn’t ready for me to know. And my only indicator that nothing serious is going on is Noel.
Cutting a look across the visitor’s locker room we’re wrapping up in, I see he’s doing some kind of “mash-up” with Rux. So, while he hasn’t said word one to me about Stormy being pregnant, or anything else about her since we ended things, his behavior suggests she’s okay.
Which means I can make it through one more night on the road, and we’ll be home tomorrow. Not that it’s any easier being in the same city with her than it is being away. I still have to fight the urge to go to her, call her, and beg her to come back to me every minute of every damn day. But at least I know I’m close if she needs me.
We take the bus back to the hotel, but as I’m filing out, I realize I don’t have my phone. I pat down my pockets, dig through my bag. Turn around as the bus starts to pull away, and run over, smacking the door with my hand.
“I need to get back to the arena,” I shout through the glass to the sound of squealing brakes.
One of the trainers tells me to wait. That they can call over to the arena and have someone check the locker room, but it’s not good enough. My heart is starting to jack, my muscles tense, readying for a fight.
I’ve been waiting for two weeks. I can’t take any more. I can’t wait in this cycle of fucking inaction for another minute. Not when she doesn’t have a way to reach me.
There’s a cab at the end of the parking loop, but even if there wasn’t, I’m thinking I might just run. Yeah—
A hand on my shoulder pulls me around.
Noel jumps back, hands raised… two phones in one of them.
“It was on the floor under the seats.”
I take it from him, nodding as I suck air, frantically checking the notifications. “Thank you.”
Nothing from Stormy. Nothing from Jess, who called a few nights ago but hung up as soon as I answered.
“You need to chill the fuck out, man,” he says, pulling me off to the side of the hotel entrance so we’re standing by a cluster of oversized planters while the Boston traffic buzzes past.
“I just— What if she called? What if she needed me?”
His brows shoot up, and he looks pissed. “Needed you?” He coughs out a laugh. “That’s rich. She’s been needing you since the day you told her it was over. That there wasn’t anything real to your relationship. What’s different now?”
“Like you don’t know?” My fists ball.
He starts to shake his head, and I snap, grabbing his suit coat to pull him in. “She’s pregnant. And I fucking know you know it. For two fucking weeks you’ve known. And the guy who claimed he wanted to be my brother hasn’t said a fucking word.”
Noel blinks, then lets out a gust of breath and pulls me into a hug so tight— Hell, I don’t have it in me to fight it.
“That’s why you’ve been—” He hugs me harder. “Liam, man. I’m sorry. She’s not pregnant. I don’t know where you heard it, but it’s not true.”
“What?” I choke out, pulling back to search his face and finding only pity.
“There was a rumor at work. She’d been looking tired. Wasn’t eating. Said she felt sick. Word spread like wildfire.”
It’s like a punch to the gut. “Is she okay?”
“No, man. How the hell would she be okay when you broke her damn heart?”
I rub my hand over the break in my own chest, feeling it split even wider. “I was trying to protect her.”
His hands come up like he’s confused. “From what?”
There are so many answers. From Jess. From scandal. From rumors. From the potential of me losing my position on the team.
“From what being with me could cost her.”
He rubs the back of his neck and looks out into the night. “Whelp, you’re doing a shit job. She’s fucking wrecked, bro. And anyone with eyes can see you’re no better.”
By the time we get inside, half the team is already at the bar.
Bowie looks up from the far end as I’m walking past. Catching my eye, he waves me in.
I shake my head and keep going.
I don’t get drinks with the team. Or I didn’t until Stormy started coming to the games. And then I just wanted to make sure she had fun. I wanted to hear her laugh.
I wanted to be able to give her something. I still do.
And these guys— the Slayers —are the closest thing to family I have. Even after I held myself apart for so long, the second I stopped, they were there, welcoming me in.
My steps slow and then stop.
My chest rises and falls. I turn around.
The team is laughing, talking animatedly where they’re seated around a group of tables in the corner.
A heavy arm lands across my shoulders as a grinning Static starts walking with me.
“Dude, you are making the right choice,” he says, propelling us to where the younger guys are sitting. “Time to celebrate.”
Not for me. Not yet.
There’s a round of cheers when I grab the seat between Whalen and Kellog.
Kellog’s ever affable grin cranks wide. “That play in the second. Holy shit. Pure poetry.” He waves over the server. “Whatever he’s having, on me.”
“Just a water, thanks.” I clear my throat, looking from one guy to the next. “And maybe some advice.”
“Yo, Boomer, get your ass over here.” Bowie claps a hand on his buddy’s shoulder and hauls him back to where our entire bench, a coach, and trainer have congregated. Christ.
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Dude,” Boomer whines, dropping into an open chair. “The bunnies are circling like sharks. I’m down for a feeding frenzy, yeah?”
“Keep your chum out of the water for five minutes, will you? Our man needs some help.”
And then we’re all assembled, tables pushed together, drinks distributed. The back of my neck burning from how out of control things have gotten.
Slouching in his chair, Boomer juts his chin my way. “You’ve already got the ring on your finger. What could you need help with?”
A round of groans and knowing laughter sounds from the married guys. Rux reaches behind Bowie to smack the back of Boomer’s head then nods to me. “Proceed.”
“I fucked up.”
For a beat, it feels like that says it all. Like no other explanation is necessary, but Noel chimes in. “He didn’t cheat on her.”
The team lets out a sigh of relief and, yeah. More words.
In the most detail-stingy way possible, I explain that I freaked out, screwing up something perfect. That I thought I was doing the right thing, but ultimately, I was afraid of letting her down. And now Stormy’s pulled away, and I don’t know how to get us back to where we were.
When it’s all out there, or at least the broad strokes, the guys sit back.
Boomer, who hasn’t stopped watching the bunnies across the bar, offers up his suggestion first. “Chapstick and knee pads.”
Axel rolls his eyes. “Get her a plant. Show her you want to see something grow with her.”
Static grunts.
Grady snorts. “Be the bunny, man.”
I don’t know what the hell that means, but Axel and a bunch of the other guys let out a round of agreement.
Baxter waves them away. “You married this girl. You gotta give her everything. The crap that scares you and the dark shit from your past. Talk to her.”
“Make her laugh,” Rux adds, then thumbs the air toward Boomer. “But that Chapstick business isn’t a bad idea either. After, though.”
The team busts up laughing… and for once, I join them.