Roughing, page 4
I’d muddied the waters, blurred our carefully set boundaries, and now I didn’t see a way out.
Chapter Four
Dinner Out
~~Briggs~~
Michella and I made small talk. Mostly Michella talked and I listened, one of the few things beyond hockey I was good at. Her irritation faded, and I was mesmerized by her beauty and animation. I fought the urge to share my day and ask about hers, but I’d lived my life these past two years as a loner. Sharing with another person had become foreign to me.
This might sound like a pity party, but I was out of practice because I had no one to talk to. My mother was doused in alcohol from the second she staggered out of bed in the morning. My father was nonexistent except when he needed money. And my sister, well, she was gone. My heart squeezed painfully, and I pushed thoughts of her out of my mind, as I often did. I swept the pain and guilt under the rug to fester and emerge as rage and frustration.
One by one I lost touch with my friends until the most stubborn of them finally gave up and walked away. I told myself I didn’t care. I wanted to be left alone. I didn’t need anyone butting into my business, nor did I miss the pitying expressions and words of concern. At least, I told myself I didn’t.
Being a loner suited me just fine, but the solitude of the past few weeks enforced by my suspension had me questioning everything in my life. I’d never been a big talker, but I had been friendlier and a good teammate.
I glanced up. Michella studied me over the rim of her wineglass. I managed a joyless smile. Fearing she might have read my face and was about to ask a personal question, I quickly ducked to the left and avoided her hit. I racked my brain for something to say that wouldn’t involve answering probing questions.
“Tell me about your new job.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Like I said, I’m working as an investigative assistant. I’m the office’s girl Friday.”
“That’s okay?”
“Not really. I have a hard time accepting authority.”
“We do have that in common.” I almost smiled again.
She shrugged and didn’t furnish additional information, making me dig. I didn’t. We sat in uncomfortable silence, which she couldn’t bear. I, on the other hand, enjoyed looking at her. Michella was beautiful, stunning, and sexy. Her clothes fit her as if they were made for her. Her makeup accentuated her features without being overwhelming. And that body. I’d seen plenty of it, and I sure as hell wanted to see more. Preferably tonight, but something told me that wasn’t happening no matter how much each of us wanted it.
“Do you recall a talented young player who walked away from hockey after he won the Cup? Drew Delacorte?” she asked.
I jumped, caught off guard by her out-of-the-blue statement and not sure why she was bringing up Delacorte. I nodded. When it came to hockey, I usually kept up with league news.
“He’s part owner of Gone Missing and played junior hockey with my brother, who pulled some strings to get me hired in the new office they’ve opened in Portland.”
“You can’t work there.” The minute the words escaped my mouth, I knew I’d made a grave error. Michella’s eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to rip me a new one.
“Where I work is none of your business.”
“Bad area and you have a stalker.”
She shrugged and poured herself another glass of wine.
“It’s not safe.” I spoke of the one thing we’d both been avoiding, but it had to be said. She might not consider this any of my business, but I felt an odd responsibility toward her safety. I’d screwed up once with fatal consequences, and I wouldn’t allow Michella to be hurt if I had anything to do with it.
Michella met my gaze and dropped all pretenses. Fear clouded her brown eyes and hurt my heart. I itched to grab her hand and hold it, but the gesture wouldn’t be welcome.
She looked to the ceiling and closed her eyes for a moment. I took advantage and studied her face. Worry etched small lines into her flawless skin. If only I could wrap her in my arms and promise no one would ever hurt her again, but that was a promise I wouldn’t be able to keep. Ask my sister.
She opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and met my gaze. “You don’t think he could’ve found me, do you?”
“I no longer underestimate that asshole. It’s highly likely.”
“But I was hired today. How would he have figured that out so soon?”
“I don’t know, but it worries me. Can you alert your boss so you’re not left there alone, especially after dark?”
She snorted and shook her head. “Have you met my boss?”
“No.”
“She’s a ballbuster, and I don’t dare show any weakness. She’d love a reason to send me packing.”
“Why?” This was concerning. If her boss wouldn’t keep her safe, then who would? I couldn’t be her protector twenty-four seven. I had hockey and away games, including a weeklong road trip starting tomorrow.
“Yes. She’s pissed she was forced to hire me. I need to prove myself and not be a helpless female.”
“I would never consider you helpless.” Michella was one of the strongest women I knew. She might be a little directionless and overspend on clothes, but she was strong. We all had our idiosyncrasies. I know I had more than my share.
“Yet you interfere with my life every chance you get, riding in on your hockey stick to save the day. I never asked you to be my knight or even my friend. You’re not responsible for me, so let it go. I’ll take care of myself.”
Her harsh words stung more than they should’ve. “At least carry a weapon of some kind. Pepper spray or something.”
“I plan on it.”
Her declaration didn’t make me feel any better. The waiter delivered our salads, and we ceased conversation while we dug in. I hadn’t realized how starved I was until I cleaned my plate and wished I had more. Michella finished soon after, and our waiter whisked away our plates.
“Even the salads here are amazing,” Michella said.
“Yeah, they are.” I had to agree with her. I felt her eyes on me and met her direct gaze, bracing myself.
“What’s up with your suspension?” I’d expected this question sooner rather than later, and the more time that’d passed, the more I’d hoped to dodge it.
“I’m on the team. I leave on the five-game road trip tomorrow.”
Her face showed no expression, and I wasn’t able to decipher what she was thinking. “I’m happy for you,” she finally said, not sounding happy in the least, not sounding like anything.
“Thanks.” I glanced toward our waiter, wishing the main course was delivered so we could end this night. I should’ve never asked her to dinner. Stupid move on my part.
“Are you glad?”
“Glad? Fuck if I know.”
One perfectly sculpted eyebrow crept upward, but that was her only show of emotion. “You do want to play hockey, don’t you?”
“I want to be traded,” I blurted out, wishing I hadn’t.
“And what team will take you with your attitude?” Michella had always told it like it was when it came to me.
I stared down at my wineglass, irritated by her blunt question.
“You’re your own worst enemy, Briggs. No other team is willing to take a chance on you as long as you have that boulder riding on your shoulder.”
“How do you know? Has Dash been talking to Everly?” Dash was the team captain, and his girlfriend was one of Michella’s best friends.
“No, Dash doesn’t discuss private team matters with Everly, but if he did, Everly wouldn’t break his confidence and tell me, especially considering the situation between you and me.”
“And what is that situation?” I prodded, pushing her to define whatever the hell we had going.
“Purely sexual on my part, but you’re the one who recklessly storms in to save the day when my day doesn’t need saving. Your jealous behavior makes people talk. You’re naive if you think it doesn’t.”
“I’m not jealous.” My feeble protest brought a snicker from her. Shit, I had behaved like a jealous boyfriend, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself. I was overprotective because I didn’t want to lose another woman on my watch.
Was that really all it was? I wasn’t responsible for Michella. Not like a brother is for his sister’s well-being, so why did I behave as if I was obligated to protect her from harm?
I didn’t want to delve into the answer. I might discover a truth about myself I’d rather keep buried.
Michella leaned forward and rested her chin on her knuckles, giving the impression she had all night to hear an honest answer. I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest.
We ate our meal in stony silence, and I’d never been as happy to get out of a place as I was then. I drove her back to her car. I fully expected her to leap out, but she sat still and stared straight ahead. I waited. Knowing Michella, she wouldn’t be content until she had the last word.
My gaze strayed to those moist red lips of hers. My cock hardened as I recalled the glorious times those lips did amazing things to my cock. I swallowed and gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to take her in my arms and kiss the anger away. In the not-so-distant past, we’d be scrambling for the back seat, clothes would be flying, and all would be forgiven.
I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. Sex with Michella was the best sex I’d ever had, and that was saying a lot. I’d been around the rink more than a few times. I’d sampled my share of movie stars, pop singers, models, and puck bunnies, but none of them lit my lamp like Michella. She and I were well-matched in the sex department.
“You cannot pull that move you pulled at the gala ever again.” There, she’d said it. The one thing she’d been dying to say all night.
Being a stubborn bastard, I wasn’t willing to back down just yet, even if this was a game I would never win. “There’s something dangerous about that guy,” I growled, referring to her ex.
“People say the same thing about you.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“You don’t know that he is.”
“The opportunities are there. The evidence is there. You know that.”
She turned away and scanned the darkness of the alley. “I’m…I’m not sure.”
“But you suspect.”
She shrugged. “Regardless, our suspicions don’t give you the right to go all caveman and humiliate me in front of everyone.”
There it was. She cared what other people thought of her, while I did not.
I swallowed my pride and offered a long-overdue apology. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten into a fight with him.”
“You punched him.”
“I know.” I had the decency to hang my head.
“You ruined the gala and turned it into a spectacle worthy of the gossip blogs. There are Reels out there of the incident. It’s mortifying.”
I didn’t respond. She was right, and I had no answer. The worst part was that I’d do it again to defend her from that asshole. She met my gaze, and what I saw in her eyes sank any hope I might’ve had. The finality. The determination. The conviction.
“Briggs, going to dinner with you was a mistake. We’re through. One-hundred-percent finished.”
“Mick, I—”
She held up her hand to stop me. “Don’t call me that. Only my close friends and family call me that. And don’t try to change my mind. What we had was fun while it lasted, but we aren’t going anywhere. I deserve better than a man who only wants sex and nothing else.” Her words solidified what I already knew.
I couldn’t argue with that. She did deserve better than me, but I couldn’t give up.
“Michella.” I wavered between pleading for another chance and packing up my wounded pride and accepting we were through.
Her eyes flashed with anger. “You know what’s wrong with you, Briggs?”
I knew better than to answer that loaded question.
“Your emotions are closed off. You’ve shut yourself down from the outside world. You won’t let me or anyone else in. The only time you show any feelings is when you lash out because you’re frustrated or angry. You don’t trust me enough to let me in. That’s not how a relationship works.”
It’d worked fine for months, or had it? The sex had been off the charts, but what about everything else? Michella and I had a connection, but I resisted allowing that connection to grow beyond the bedroom. She wanted something out of me I didn’t know how to give even if I wanted to.
I stared out the truck window and clenched my jaw so tightly it hurt.
“Sorry, Briggs.” Michella opened the passenger door. “I can’t keep doing this. We’re done.”
I nodded around the lump in my throat, unable to speak for fear of embarrassing myself. She watched me for a moment before slamming the door shut.
I waited for her to get in her car and drive off, not moving until her red taillights disappeared around a corner. My throat thickened with regret, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel. Pain rendered me paralyzed. A pain so consuming it rivaled the agony I’d felt when I’d lost my sister.
Michella had been my oasis in a sea of regret and self-flagellation. Only with her had I been able to live again, even if only temporarily.
Losing Michella destroyed me, and I hadn’t realized how much until just now.
Chapter Five
Losers
~~Briggs~~
I boarded the team plane and took a window seat in an empty row. No one would sit next to me. They never did. Not one teammate welcomed me back. In fact, they deliberately ignored my existence as they filed past me to their seats. Bits and pieces of conversations floated around me, driving home how excluded I was from my teammates’ discussions.
Yet I’d done nothing to merit inclusion. I’d been a dividing force on the team since our first day of training camp, and I’d done my best to disrupt the building of team chemistry and harmony. I was a negative presence, and no one wanted me on this road trip, except Coach, out of some misplaced loyalty since I was on his college team.
I’d been ostracized before, but this felt different. This time I wasn’t initiating the isolation. This time, I had to find a way to fit in. They didn’t have to like me, but they needed to respect and work with me. I’d deluded myself for months about being traded to a contender, but it was just that, an illusion with no basis in reality.
I glanced around the plane. Some guys had started a poker game, others talked about hockey, still others bantered back and forth over who was the team champion of some video game.
Up until two years ago, I’d have anchored my ass right in the middle of all this. I must fight my way back or destroy my last opportunity to play hockey again.
I was still out of sorts about how yesterday went, mostly with Michella. We were done. No late-night booty calls, no hanging out by the coffee shop just to catch a glimpse of her, no marathon sex sessions. And therein lay the problem. None of my regrets centered on Michella as a person, more an obsession, a desire, an aching need, but not someone I turned to when times were tough or celebrated with when times were good. I’d never given her a chance to be that person, never wanted to open myself up to that kind of vulnerability.
Possibly a deeply buried part of me did want a real relationship with her, but I’d never follow through. I didn’t have it in me, and she did deserve a better guy than I’d ever be.
I glanced upward, surprised to find Kirby Darkhorse taking the seat next to me. Kirby was a top-line defenseman and almost as talented as I was.
I wiped the unwelcoming grimace off my face. I didn’t want company, but I had to make an effort to be a team player and not a team disrupter. Disrupting had been easier, and I’d lashed out, inflicting pain on my teammates so they’d feel what I felt every day.
Getting along with people was more work. I hated the thought of inviting people into my world and having them see who I really was. A good possibility existed that they wouldn’t like the real me. Hell, I didn’t like the real me. Ultimately, my inability to share my innermost feelings was probably one of the biggest reasons Michella broke off all contact. I wasn’t a guy in touch with my feelings, and she seemed to want that.
“You’re back on the team.” Kirby’s statement didn’t require an answer, so I said nothing.
I felt his eyes drilling into me and resisted squirming. Kirby had this uncanny knack for peeling back the layers of bullshit and exposing the person beneath. I wasn’t interested in being exposed by him or anyone else.
“This team is struggling.”
I bit back a smart remark and merely nodded.
“We could use your talent and hockey wisdom.”
Well, shit, how did I respond to that? “I play hard.”
“You do, but character matters as much as physical effort.”
“Are you saying I don’t have character?” I snapped, unable to stop myself. I’d been angry for so long it was impossible to flip a switch and suddenly play nice.
“Do you?” Kirby cocked his head and pursed his lips, appraising me as only he could.
“Probably not lately.” I turned my head and met Kirby’s direct gaze. Nothing on his face reflected disapproval or disdain but something more like hope.
“But you did once have character. Guys who’ve played with you in the past speak highly of your leadership and ability.”
“That was the past. I’m not that person anymore.”
“I think you are. You’ve buried him, but you can dig him up and let him see the light again.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” His presence made me grumpy. I wanted him to go away.
“Briggs, I’m not letting you off that easily. You’re here. That means something. You chose hockey rather than giving up. You must still care.”
“Save the therapy for a dude who appreciates it.”
Kirby snorted good-naturedly. “I’m not done with you yet.” His words weren’t a threat, but more like a promise of help I didn’t need or welcome.
Chapter Four
Dinner Out
~~Briggs~~
Michella and I made small talk. Mostly Michella talked and I listened, one of the few things beyond hockey I was good at. Her irritation faded, and I was mesmerized by her beauty and animation. I fought the urge to share my day and ask about hers, but I’d lived my life these past two years as a loner. Sharing with another person had become foreign to me.
This might sound like a pity party, but I was out of practice because I had no one to talk to. My mother was doused in alcohol from the second she staggered out of bed in the morning. My father was nonexistent except when he needed money. And my sister, well, she was gone. My heart squeezed painfully, and I pushed thoughts of her out of my mind, as I often did. I swept the pain and guilt under the rug to fester and emerge as rage and frustration.
One by one I lost touch with my friends until the most stubborn of them finally gave up and walked away. I told myself I didn’t care. I wanted to be left alone. I didn’t need anyone butting into my business, nor did I miss the pitying expressions and words of concern. At least, I told myself I didn’t.
Being a loner suited me just fine, but the solitude of the past few weeks enforced by my suspension had me questioning everything in my life. I’d never been a big talker, but I had been friendlier and a good teammate.
I glanced up. Michella studied me over the rim of her wineglass. I managed a joyless smile. Fearing she might have read my face and was about to ask a personal question, I quickly ducked to the left and avoided her hit. I racked my brain for something to say that wouldn’t involve answering probing questions.
“Tell me about your new job.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Like I said, I’m working as an investigative assistant. I’m the office’s girl Friday.”
“That’s okay?”
“Not really. I have a hard time accepting authority.”
“We do have that in common.” I almost smiled again.
She shrugged and didn’t furnish additional information, making me dig. I didn’t. We sat in uncomfortable silence, which she couldn’t bear. I, on the other hand, enjoyed looking at her. Michella was beautiful, stunning, and sexy. Her clothes fit her as if they were made for her. Her makeup accentuated her features without being overwhelming. And that body. I’d seen plenty of it, and I sure as hell wanted to see more. Preferably tonight, but something told me that wasn’t happening no matter how much each of us wanted it.
“Do you recall a talented young player who walked away from hockey after he won the Cup? Drew Delacorte?” she asked.
I jumped, caught off guard by her out-of-the-blue statement and not sure why she was bringing up Delacorte. I nodded. When it came to hockey, I usually kept up with league news.
“He’s part owner of Gone Missing and played junior hockey with my brother, who pulled some strings to get me hired in the new office they’ve opened in Portland.”
“You can’t work there.” The minute the words escaped my mouth, I knew I’d made a grave error. Michella’s eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to rip me a new one.
“Where I work is none of your business.”
“Bad area and you have a stalker.”
She shrugged and poured herself another glass of wine.
“It’s not safe.” I spoke of the one thing we’d both been avoiding, but it had to be said. She might not consider this any of my business, but I felt an odd responsibility toward her safety. I’d screwed up once with fatal consequences, and I wouldn’t allow Michella to be hurt if I had anything to do with it.
Michella met my gaze and dropped all pretenses. Fear clouded her brown eyes and hurt my heart. I itched to grab her hand and hold it, but the gesture wouldn’t be welcome.
She looked to the ceiling and closed her eyes for a moment. I took advantage and studied her face. Worry etched small lines into her flawless skin. If only I could wrap her in my arms and promise no one would ever hurt her again, but that was a promise I wouldn’t be able to keep. Ask my sister.
She opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and met my gaze. “You don’t think he could’ve found me, do you?”
“I no longer underestimate that asshole. It’s highly likely.”
“But I was hired today. How would he have figured that out so soon?”
“I don’t know, but it worries me. Can you alert your boss so you’re not left there alone, especially after dark?”
She snorted and shook her head. “Have you met my boss?”
“No.”
“She’s a ballbuster, and I don’t dare show any weakness. She’d love a reason to send me packing.”
“Why?” This was concerning. If her boss wouldn’t keep her safe, then who would? I couldn’t be her protector twenty-four seven. I had hockey and away games, including a weeklong road trip starting tomorrow.
“Yes. She’s pissed she was forced to hire me. I need to prove myself and not be a helpless female.”
“I would never consider you helpless.” Michella was one of the strongest women I knew. She might be a little directionless and overspend on clothes, but she was strong. We all had our idiosyncrasies. I know I had more than my share.
“Yet you interfere with my life every chance you get, riding in on your hockey stick to save the day. I never asked you to be my knight or even my friend. You’re not responsible for me, so let it go. I’ll take care of myself.”
Her harsh words stung more than they should’ve. “At least carry a weapon of some kind. Pepper spray or something.”
“I plan on it.”
Her declaration didn’t make me feel any better. The waiter delivered our salads, and we ceased conversation while we dug in. I hadn’t realized how starved I was until I cleaned my plate and wished I had more. Michella finished soon after, and our waiter whisked away our plates.
“Even the salads here are amazing,” Michella said.
“Yeah, they are.” I had to agree with her. I felt her eyes on me and met her direct gaze, bracing myself.
“What’s up with your suspension?” I’d expected this question sooner rather than later, and the more time that’d passed, the more I’d hoped to dodge it.
“I’m on the team. I leave on the five-game road trip tomorrow.”
Her face showed no expression, and I wasn’t able to decipher what she was thinking. “I’m happy for you,” she finally said, not sounding happy in the least, not sounding like anything.
“Thanks.” I glanced toward our waiter, wishing the main course was delivered so we could end this night. I should’ve never asked her to dinner. Stupid move on my part.
“Are you glad?”
“Glad? Fuck if I know.”
One perfectly sculpted eyebrow crept upward, but that was her only show of emotion. “You do want to play hockey, don’t you?”
“I want to be traded,” I blurted out, wishing I hadn’t.
“And what team will take you with your attitude?” Michella had always told it like it was when it came to me.
I stared down at my wineglass, irritated by her blunt question.
“You’re your own worst enemy, Briggs. No other team is willing to take a chance on you as long as you have that boulder riding on your shoulder.”
“How do you know? Has Dash been talking to Everly?” Dash was the team captain, and his girlfriend was one of Michella’s best friends.
“No, Dash doesn’t discuss private team matters with Everly, but if he did, Everly wouldn’t break his confidence and tell me, especially considering the situation between you and me.”
“And what is that situation?” I prodded, pushing her to define whatever the hell we had going.
“Purely sexual on my part, but you’re the one who recklessly storms in to save the day when my day doesn’t need saving. Your jealous behavior makes people talk. You’re naive if you think it doesn’t.”
“I’m not jealous.” My feeble protest brought a snicker from her. Shit, I had behaved like a jealous boyfriend, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself. I was overprotective because I didn’t want to lose another woman on my watch.
Was that really all it was? I wasn’t responsible for Michella. Not like a brother is for his sister’s well-being, so why did I behave as if I was obligated to protect her from harm?
I didn’t want to delve into the answer. I might discover a truth about myself I’d rather keep buried.
Michella leaned forward and rested her chin on her knuckles, giving the impression she had all night to hear an honest answer. I sat back and crossed my arms over my chest.
We ate our meal in stony silence, and I’d never been as happy to get out of a place as I was then. I drove her back to her car. I fully expected her to leap out, but she sat still and stared straight ahead. I waited. Knowing Michella, she wouldn’t be content until she had the last word.
My gaze strayed to those moist red lips of hers. My cock hardened as I recalled the glorious times those lips did amazing things to my cock. I swallowed and gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to take her in my arms and kiss the anger away. In the not-so-distant past, we’d be scrambling for the back seat, clothes would be flying, and all would be forgiven.
I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. Sex with Michella was the best sex I’d ever had, and that was saying a lot. I’d been around the rink more than a few times. I’d sampled my share of movie stars, pop singers, models, and puck bunnies, but none of them lit my lamp like Michella. She and I were well-matched in the sex department.
“You cannot pull that move you pulled at the gala ever again.” There, she’d said it. The one thing she’d been dying to say all night.
Being a stubborn bastard, I wasn’t willing to back down just yet, even if this was a game I would never win. “There’s something dangerous about that guy,” I growled, referring to her ex.
“People say the same thing about you.”
“I’m not a killer.”
“You don’t know that he is.”
“The opportunities are there. The evidence is there. You know that.”
She turned away and scanned the darkness of the alley. “I’m…I’m not sure.”
“But you suspect.”
She shrugged. “Regardless, our suspicions don’t give you the right to go all caveman and humiliate me in front of everyone.”
There it was. She cared what other people thought of her, while I did not.
I swallowed my pride and offered a long-overdue apology. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten into a fight with him.”
“You punched him.”
“I know.” I had the decency to hang my head.
“You ruined the gala and turned it into a spectacle worthy of the gossip blogs. There are Reels out there of the incident. It’s mortifying.”
I didn’t respond. She was right, and I had no answer. The worst part was that I’d do it again to defend her from that asshole. She met my gaze, and what I saw in her eyes sank any hope I might’ve had. The finality. The determination. The conviction.
“Briggs, going to dinner with you was a mistake. We’re through. One-hundred-percent finished.”
“Mick, I—”
She held up her hand to stop me. “Don’t call me that. Only my close friends and family call me that. And don’t try to change my mind. What we had was fun while it lasted, but we aren’t going anywhere. I deserve better than a man who only wants sex and nothing else.” Her words solidified what I already knew.
I couldn’t argue with that. She did deserve better than me, but I couldn’t give up.
“Michella.” I wavered between pleading for another chance and packing up my wounded pride and accepting we were through.
Her eyes flashed with anger. “You know what’s wrong with you, Briggs?”
I knew better than to answer that loaded question.
“Your emotions are closed off. You’ve shut yourself down from the outside world. You won’t let me or anyone else in. The only time you show any feelings is when you lash out because you’re frustrated or angry. You don’t trust me enough to let me in. That’s not how a relationship works.”
It’d worked fine for months, or had it? The sex had been off the charts, but what about everything else? Michella and I had a connection, but I resisted allowing that connection to grow beyond the bedroom. She wanted something out of me I didn’t know how to give even if I wanted to.
I stared out the truck window and clenched my jaw so tightly it hurt.
“Sorry, Briggs.” Michella opened the passenger door. “I can’t keep doing this. We’re done.”
I nodded around the lump in my throat, unable to speak for fear of embarrassing myself. She watched me for a moment before slamming the door shut.
I waited for her to get in her car and drive off, not moving until her red taillights disappeared around a corner. My throat thickened with regret, and my eyes burned with unshed tears. I rested my forehead on the steering wheel. Pain rendered me paralyzed. A pain so consuming it rivaled the agony I’d felt when I’d lost my sister.
Michella had been my oasis in a sea of regret and self-flagellation. Only with her had I been able to live again, even if only temporarily.
Losing Michella destroyed me, and I hadn’t realized how much until just now.
Chapter Five
Losers
~~Briggs~~
I boarded the team plane and took a window seat in an empty row. No one would sit next to me. They never did. Not one teammate welcomed me back. In fact, they deliberately ignored my existence as they filed past me to their seats. Bits and pieces of conversations floated around me, driving home how excluded I was from my teammates’ discussions.
Yet I’d done nothing to merit inclusion. I’d been a dividing force on the team since our first day of training camp, and I’d done my best to disrupt the building of team chemistry and harmony. I was a negative presence, and no one wanted me on this road trip, except Coach, out of some misplaced loyalty since I was on his college team.
I’d been ostracized before, but this felt different. This time I wasn’t initiating the isolation. This time, I had to find a way to fit in. They didn’t have to like me, but they needed to respect and work with me. I’d deluded myself for months about being traded to a contender, but it was just that, an illusion with no basis in reality.
I glanced around the plane. Some guys had started a poker game, others talked about hockey, still others bantered back and forth over who was the team champion of some video game.
Up until two years ago, I’d have anchored my ass right in the middle of all this. I must fight my way back or destroy my last opportunity to play hockey again.
I was still out of sorts about how yesterday went, mostly with Michella. We were done. No late-night booty calls, no hanging out by the coffee shop just to catch a glimpse of her, no marathon sex sessions. And therein lay the problem. None of my regrets centered on Michella as a person, more an obsession, a desire, an aching need, but not someone I turned to when times were tough or celebrated with when times were good. I’d never given her a chance to be that person, never wanted to open myself up to that kind of vulnerability.
Possibly a deeply buried part of me did want a real relationship with her, but I’d never follow through. I didn’t have it in me, and she did deserve a better guy than I’d ever be.
I glanced upward, surprised to find Kirby Darkhorse taking the seat next to me. Kirby was a top-line defenseman and almost as talented as I was.
I wiped the unwelcoming grimace off my face. I didn’t want company, but I had to make an effort to be a team player and not a team disrupter. Disrupting had been easier, and I’d lashed out, inflicting pain on my teammates so they’d feel what I felt every day.
Getting along with people was more work. I hated the thought of inviting people into my world and having them see who I really was. A good possibility existed that they wouldn’t like the real me. Hell, I didn’t like the real me. Ultimately, my inability to share my innermost feelings was probably one of the biggest reasons Michella broke off all contact. I wasn’t a guy in touch with my feelings, and she seemed to want that.
“You’re back on the team.” Kirby’s statement didn’t require an answer, so I said nothing.
I felt his eyes drilling into me and resisted squirming. Kirby had this uncanny knack for peeling back the layers of bullshit and exposing the person beneath. I wasn’t interested in being exposed by him or anyone else.
“This team is struggling.”
I bit back a smart remark and merely nodded.
“We could use your talent and hockey wisdom.”
Well, shit, how did I respond to that? “I play hard.”
“You do, but character matters as much as physical effort.”
“Are you saying I don’t have character?” I snapped, unable to stop myself. I’d been angry for so long it was impossible to flip a switch and suddenly play nice.
“Do you?” Kirby cocked his head and pursed his lips, appraising me as only he could.
“Probably not lately.” I turned my head and met Kirby’s direct gaze. Nothing on his face reflected disapproval or disdain but something more like hope.
“But you did once have character. Guys who’ve played with you in the past speak highly of your leadership and ability.”
“That was the past. I’m not that person anymore.”
“I think you are. You’ve buried him, but you can dig him up and let him see the light again.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” His presence made me grumpy. I wanted him to go away.
“Briggs, I’m not letting you off that easily. You’re here. That means something. You chose hockey rather than giving up. You must still care.”
“Save the therapy for a dude who appreciates it.”
Kirby snorted good-naturedly. “I’m not done with you yet.” His words weren’t a threat, but more like a promise of help I didn’t need or welcome.
