Breakaway, page 15
part #5 of Northbrook Hockey Elite Series
The type of car Mr. Brandon drove was known to every Chargers player. The black Lamborghini always turned heads.
When the car stopped and Mr. Brandon stepped out, Declan was pretty sure Camila would release his hand.
But Mr. Brandon didn’t seem to be on a hunt for his daughter. “This is fortuitous,” he said, striding toward them, his gaze not missing the fact they were holding hands. “I came to the arena office to look up your contract.”
The foreboding that went through Declan must have radiated to Camila, because she tightened her hold.
“Is something wrong?” Declan asked, his tone rough.
For the first time in the year that Declan had known Mr. Brandon, he looked unsure. He scrubbed a hand through his blond hair that was liberally peppered with gray. “This might need to be a private conversation.” Finally his gaze cut to Camila.
“Okay,” she said, and Declan heard the worry in her voice.
That worry matched his own.
“No, she can stay,” Declan said immediately. “I don’t think much about my contract is private anyway. At least not in the hockey world.”
Mr. Brandon gave a curt nod. “Then let’s go inside.”
Declan nodded, then released Camila’s hand. He went to his SUV and turned it off. The two of them waited for him, and they all walked into the closed-up arena together.
When they got to one of the offices, Mr. Brandon logged into the computer system. Camila took a seat, but Declan remained standing until her dad said, “Sit here.”
Declan settled into a chair across from the desk. Camila said nothing, but in her gaze, he saw all of her fears.
If he was traded now, his career would go on. Yeah, it would have a hiccup, but he’d land on his feet. Like he always did. What about his mom, though? And things were just starting with Camila.
Declan moved his gaze to the desk in front of him, having a hard time seeing the vulnerability in Camila’s green eyes. He didn’t have any answers about their relationship any more than he did about what Mr. Brandon was up to.
“Ah, here it is.” Mr. Brandon scanned whatever he wanted to double-check. Then he looked at Declan. “Coach wants to trade you.”
The words sat like a rock in his stomach. And it wasn’t the first time he’d heard them. In fact, this was the fourth.
Declan swallowed against the tightness of his throat. “Why?” He shouldn’t have asked it. He knew the answer.
“Coach wants to bring in a player from the Seattle Blacks.”
Declan went cold all over.
Camila shot to her feet. “Not Stephen.”
Her dad’s gaze moved slowly, almost reluctantly, to hers. “I’m afraid so.”
“You can’t allow it,” she said, her tone panicked. “You yourself refused to last year, and you know how he treated me after.”
“I know.” Her dad’s voice was calm, controlled. “Sit down, Camila. I think it’s actually good you’re here, because you might be able to help . . .” His gaze shifted to Declan.
“I wasn’t going to show anyone these texts, but I will now,” Camila continued, still standing. She scrolled through her phone, then stopped on something and handed it over.
Her dad read the screen, his face darkening with anger. “Stephen’s a piece of work, and so help me if he comes here—” He looked up at Camila. “You need to send these to me, and we’ll file a harassment report.”
Declan was itching to see what Camila had shown her father. He’d have no problem taking a trip to Seattle if necessary.
But Camila pocketed her phone and didn’t look at Declan.
Her dad turned the monitor to face the both of them. “Your contract shows that you’re a cheaper option than bringing in Stephen Goodman. Which would give us more flexibility with other trades with other players in the future.”
Declan wasn’t surprised that he didn’t make more than other defensemen in the league, but he still didn’t like being compared to Goodman in this way.
“I told the coach to give you one more game to prove yourself.” He paused while he let that sink in. “I need stats, Mr. Rivera. Cold hard stats. You need to break every record you can tomorrow night, so that when Coach proposes to his staff that we trade you, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Even if I can prevent Goodman from coming to the Chargers, I might not be able to prevent you from leaving. We have one thing on our side, though—stats don’t lie.”
No one spoke in the room for a moment.
“What if the coach benches me tomorrow?” Declan asked.
“He’ll start you because he wants to prove that you’ll crumble,” Mr. Brandon said. “It’s up to you not to get benched.”
“That’s not fair,” Camila cut in. “You can’t expect his entire career to ride on one game—”
“It’s more than fair,” Declan interrupted. He’d never been given a warning like this, and he intended to take full advantage of it.
“Who makes the decisions, anyway?” Camila pressed, her pleading gaze on her father’s. “Can’t you override the coach?”
“I can, but I won’t.”
“Camila,” Declan said. “Don’t.”
She looked over at him, and he hated that her eyes filled with tears. But he couldn’t let his team position be political. Mr. Brandon was right. Declan had to build his stats to stay on the team.
“You know what you have to do, Mr. Rivera,” her father continued. “Now, do you mind if I have a moment alone with my daughter?”
“Of course.”
“He can stay—” Camila said, but Declan was already on his feet.
Declan extended his hand to Mr. Brandon, who shook it firmly.
Then Declan headed out of the office, already hearing Camila arguing with her father.
Declan walked quickly. He didn’t want to be in the middle of their family dispute, but his heart ached all the same. Why hadn’t she told him what Stephen Goodman had texted her? Declan was glad that it had pissed off her dad. That was at least good. But it didn’t make his trade any less sure. Mr. Brandon had been right. If it wasn’t Goodman coming in, Coach would vie for another defense player.
Declan headed out of the arena and climbed into his SUV. He sat there for several moments, debating whether he should wait for Camila. Finally, he pulled out of the parking lot, but he waited on the side of the road to make sure Camila didn’t do something like stay in the arena by herself.
About twenty minutes later, he saw Camila come out of the arena with her dad. They left at the same time, and Declan watched her drive down the street, then turn at a light. It was only then that he headed home himself.
He didn’t know how he’d break the news to his mom. Maybe since she was already in transition, she’d follow him. Although he knew it was a long shot. She’d most likely say she was going back to Chicago.
The part that had him feeling like he couldn’t take a full breath was the thought of leaving Camila. They weren’t really together in a way that would warrant a long-distance relationship or even him asking her to move with him. Frustration bubbled hot inside of him. None of this was fair to her. His career had always been volatile, and now . . . it might be better if they weren’t dating. It would make it easier if he did get traded. Because even if he got over this hump with the Chargers, what about next week, or next month, or next season? Declan hadn’t had great staying power on any team so far.
He was both surprised and not surprised when Camila called him about an hour later. He hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, and staring at the patches of moonlight on his bedroom wall hadn’t helped.
“Hey,” he answered.
“I hate this.” Camila’s voice was full of emotion, and he was pretty sure she was crying.
“I do too, but it’s hockey, that’s all,” he said. “You can’t take it personally.”
“I know.” She sniffled. “My dad won’t budge. He says he can’t override the coach about you, but he’ll make sure Goodman doesn’t come here.”
“I’m glad about Goodman, but your dad shouldn’t get between me and the coach,” Declan said. “Not if he wants to keep that coach.”
“Coaches don’t matter,” she said. “I mean, if it weren’t for players like you, they wouldn’t have jobs.”
“Camila . . .”
She sniffled again.
“What’s your address?” he asked softly. “I’ll come over if you want.”
“Okay,” she said, then told him her address.
“I’ll be there soon.” He hung up. He didn’t have to worry about his mom, since she slept like a rock, but apparently Princess didn’t.
She meowed at him from the dark kitchen, nearly scaring him to death. “You can’t sleep either?” he whispered.
Another meow. So Declan got her some ice water and hoped that was sufficient.
Then he headed outside to his SUV. The drive to Camila’s condo complex was only about fifteen minutes, and after punching in the code she’d told him, he found her building. He parked, then walked up to her door. After he knocked, the door opened immediately.
The Camila who stood there looked like a smaller version of herself. She was barefoot and wore a fitted V-neck shirt and leggings. Gone were all her heavy layers and of course her hat, which he suspected was still inside his SUV.
“Hi,” she said quietly, opening the door wider so that he could step inside.
He wanted to hug her, but she stood halfway behind the door. So he walked into a living room that looked like it had been fashioned after a magazine ad. And there was a lot of white. “I take it you don’t ever eat in this living room?”
“My mother would have had a conniption,” she said. “I haven’t really changed anything since I moved back. All of this decorating is her.”
His gaze zeroed in on a group of framed pictures on one of the end tables. He picked them up one by one. Most of them were of a younger Camila: one with a woman who had to be her mom, one with her dad, and a couple graduation shots with Paige.
When he set them down he looked over at Camila. She stood with her arms folded and her eyes blinking rapidly.
The distance was too painful. He crossed to her, and just like that, she was in his arms. Clinging to him. She wasn’t outright crying, but her trembling told him she was upset.
“What’s going on, Camila?”
She didn’t answer for a moment, just kept her face buried against his neck, so he ran his hands slowly over her back. Finally, she seemed to relax, and after taking a deep breath, she said, “Sorry I’m being so emotional. You’re going to regret coming over here.”
Declan kissed the top of her head, then moved his hands to her shoulders. “I don’t regret it.”
She blinked rapidly. “You know, your mom’s a lucky woman.”
Declan moved his thumb over her collarbone. “You’re avoiding my question.”
She gave him a small smile, and even though he was pretty sure she had cried all of her makeup off, he could swear she’d never been more beautiful. “I just realized that my mom will never get to meet the great guy I’m dating.”
This sobered him. They really had to talk about this . . . dating thing. As much as he didn’t want to.
“I’m sorry I don’t get to meet your mom either,” he said in a gentle tone. “But I think we need to talk about some things.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I figured as much.”
He grasped her hand and led her to the pristine couch. “Can we sit here, or is it forbidden?”
“We can sit.”
“It’s really, really white.”
“Linen white, actually.” She tugged on his hand until he was sitting next to her.
He kept her hand in his, lacing their fingers.
“I know what you’re going to say,” she said.
He looked into her beautiful eyes and saw the wariness there. “What am I going to say?”
“That you can be traded anytime, that even if you get through this next week, there’s still no guarantee.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “That there’s no use for us to date, because your career is so volatile.”
She was right. She did know what he was going to say.
When she lifted her gaze, he didn’t see her on the verge of crying again; he saw a woman full of resolve and determination.
“Look, Declan, I like you, despite my best efforts not to.” She gave him a half smile. “And I think you like me, or you probably wouldn’t be here tonight.”
“I do like you,” he rasped. “But I don’t want to hurt you, either. And I can’t expect any woman I’m dating to follow my ups and downs. You know my track record, and although I wish things were different with the Chargers, they aren’t.”
“I know.” Turning toward him, she slid her free hand up his chest, then rested her fingers on the side of his neck. “Bree told me about Jax and his issues with his team in Chicago.”
This did surprise Declan. He knew, of course, that Jax had gone through the wringer, but he was in a different spot than Declan. Jax had always been with the Chicago Flyers—he had a lot of loyalty with that team.
Declan never had the time or luxury to form a loyalty.
“Maybe you should talk to Jax?” Camila’s tone was hopeful.
He hated to dash that hope, but they had to face reality here. “I’ll talk to him, but his situation isn’t the same. Jax is probably the best player in his team’s history. I’m disposable.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he pressed his finger against her lips. “I don’t need a pep talk. I can see stats as easily as the next guy, and being benched is a stats killer.”
Camila tugged his hand away. “Then don’t get benched, Declan.” She held his gaze, her green eyes fiery.
“I’ll try not to.”
“That’s not good enough,” she said. “Don’t let it happen, period. You agreed that sports is mostly mental.” Her fingers moved into his hair. “So get it into that head of yours what you need to do to stay on the Chargers.”
“And if I get traded anyway?” he asked. “What happens to us?”
“You’re not going to get traded.” She moved closer, close enough to kiss.
So he kissed her. Then he tugged her onto his lap and kissed her some more. He knew they were existing in a bubble right now. That her fierce words might all crumble when reality blasted in their faces. But right now, Camila wrapped around him was the stuff of dreams, and tonight, he’d allow himself to dream.
The buzzer announcing the end of the first period was like a shock to Camila’s heart. She was pretty sure she’d reverted back to her seven-year-old nail-biting self. Not much was left of her manicure. But Declan had stayed in, and the Chargers were up one to zero against the Northern California Coyotes. Frankly, Camila was surprised that any puck could get past Tyler Nelson, the Coyotes’ goalie. But Loop had managed to squeeze one through.
And as far as she could tell, Declan was playing great. He hadn’t scored or anything, or done one of his legendary breakaways, but as long as the Chargers were winning, that was good, right?
“I’ll be right back,” Mrs. Rivera said next to Camila. “Do you want anything from the snack bar?”
Camila knew she couldn’t eat a thing, but she didn’t like the thought of Declan’s mom navigating the crowds on her own. “I’ll come with you.”
As they moved up the aisle to the portal, Camila hoped this wasn’t Declan’s last game in the Denver arena. He hadn’t told his mom about being put on warning since he didn’t want to needlessly worry her. And he’d also told Camila, for the time being, to drop any communication with her dad about hockey.
Still.
She hadn’t wanted him to leave her condo last night, because she knew the next time they talked in person, things about his career would be decided. And that petrified her. Declan leaving Denver now would be terrible timing. For his mom and for Camila. Yeah, she was being selfish, but it wasn’t hard to see that all these trades had done a number on Declan’s psyche. Why couldn’t a coach believe in him 100 percent, through all the ups and downs? And her hands were completely tied, since this was all between Declan and his coach.
“Nachos sounds good,” Mrs. Rivera said as they moved forward in the concessions line. “Do you want to share?”
“I’m not hungry.” Camila fiddled with her phone as Mrs. Rivera ordered and paid.
Camila had talked to Paige this morning and told her some of the things that were going down with Declan. Paige had been quick to say that it was no use stressing over what Camila had no control over.
Well, she was still stressing.
They’d barely made it back to their seats when the second period started. Camila sank into her chair with relief when she saw Declan skate onto the ice. He was still playing, and he hadn’t been benched. She’d never been so focused on a game in her life, and she followed every movement by Declan. She shot to her feet when he got into a headlock with one of the Coyotes. Thankfully the other player was penalized with a roughing penalty, and not Declan.
“Don’t get a penalty,” she whispered under her breath. “Play a clean game.”
A run was made toward the Chargers goal, and Camila started yelling at the Chargers to stop the momentum. The puck skittered right toward Runt, and at the last possible second, Declan’s stick deflected it. Then he skated after it, ramming against a Coyote to win control of the puck. The Coyote slammed into the plexiglass, then took off after Declan.
Half of the arena was on their feet as Declan made a breakaway toward the massive Tyler Nelson.
“Go! Go! Go!” Camila screamed.
The Coyotes seemed to tumble out of his way. Camila didn’t stop screaming when Declan made the shot and scored.
The entire arena erupted in cheers, and Camila felt like laughing and crying at the same time. She would celebrate for the moment, although she knew the game was far from over. Mrs. Rivera hugged her in elation, and Camila squeezed her tight.
Declan took a victory lap around the arena, and then he was facing where she and his mom were sitting. How he saw her in the crowd, she didn’t know, but when he thumped his fist over his heart two times, she thought she might faint on the spot. She returned the same two thumps over her heart, then kept clapping, gratified when he turned away with a smile.
