One-Timer (Carolina Comets), page 20
“It is perfect, you know,” Hollis says, grinning up at me.
“I know. And so are you.” I wink.
“You know we can’t have sex for like six weeks, right?”
“I’m aware…”
“So, then, why are you saying so many nice things?”
I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers. “Because I’m in love with you…darlin’.”
She sighs. “I’ll let you get away with it this time, but only because you gave me a beautiful little girl.”
“Hell of a one-timer, right?”
“The best one-timer of my life.”
“I love you, Hollis.”
“And I love you…Cameron.”
EPILOGUE
Hollis
I was right.
About a month after Freddie was born, my mother packed up my childhood home, the one that held so many good and bad memories for her, and moved across the state to be closer to her new granddaughter. She is obsessed with Freddie.
Honestly, I can’t blame her—I’m obsessed too.
If I thought I loved my little girl when she was just a little flutter inside of me, I was wrong. That love is nothing compared to watching my baby grow.
It’s been nine months since my daughter was born, and I still can’t believe I’m a mother. I can’t believe I created and carried a little human and now I get to watch this baby flourish for the rest of her life.
Freddie laughs from across the room, the sound drawing my attention. Her tiny arms are outstretched toward her father, and I can’t help but smile as he plucks her from her grandmother’s grasp, blowing kisses into her chubby neck.
“You’re so in love with him. It’s gross.”
I peek over at my sister, who is watching Lowell with her own grin.
“You’re one to talk.” I flick my eyes to her husband, who is standing next to Lowell, making faces at Freddie. “You’re so in love with him.”
“Yeah. I am.” She sighs dreamily. “Can you believe this is where we are?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“You’re a mother.”
“And you’re a wife.”
“And soon you’re going to be a wife…right?” She lifts her brows in question like I’m harboring some sort of secret.
I laugh then flash her my hand. “Still ringless.”
She sighs again, only this time it’s less wistful and more out of irritation. “Fool.”
These last two years have been the most tumultuous of my life between finding my ex-husband cheating on me, divorcing him, getting pregnant by my one-night stand, and then falling in love with said one-timer. Add in moving in with Lowell and adjusting to motherhood plus being a pro-hockey player’s girlfriend on top of that, and—yeah, it’s been a crazy ride.
But if Lowell were to ask…I’d say yes in a heartbeat.
Much like how I thought I loved Freddie before she was born, if I thought the love I had for Lowell was strong before our baby came into this world, I was dead wrong. Watching him become a father has taken my feelings for him to a whole different level.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the first time he had to leave for a road game after Freddie was born. During the birth? Not a single tear, but leaving Freddie’s side for the first time? He lost it. He cried for ten minutes before he finally got out the door to catch the flight. His coach reamed him a new one, but Lowell swears spending those extra minutes with his child was worth it.
That was the first moment I fell even more in love with him. There have been about a hundred other moments since then that have made me fall even harder.
Like the time he got home at two AM after an away game then insisted on being on nighttime duty with Freddie, who was struggling to sleep through the night.
When we went for a date night and my boobs started leaking through my dress, even though he wasn’t wearing an undershirt, he took his dress shirt off so I could cover up. He didn’t even care that he had to go shirtless under his suit jacket throughout the rest of our dinner.
And even now, today, he’s been walking around wearing that silly shirt I bought for him the first Christmas we spent together, not the least bit embarrassed by the bold WORLD’S HOTTEST HOCKEY DAD letters across it.
As if he knows we’re talking about him, Lowell’s eyes find mine, and a huge grin lights up his face. He stalks toward us, Freddie in his arms. She reaches out for me, but Harper steps in, stealing her away.
“What? You don’t want Mama. You want Auntie Harper! Aunts are way cooler than moms,” she says, brushing her nose against Freddie’s as her niece laughs and burbles out some nonsense.
“Moms and aunts are cool and all, but uncles are where it’s at!” Collin declares, stealing Freddie from his wife’s arms. He plops her down onto her playmat, dropping to the floor and stacking up blocks as Freddie watches with giddiness. She knows exactly what’s coming.
Harper and Collin are still firmly against having their own children, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t complete constants in Freddie’s life. The number of times I’ve had to beg my sister to spend time with my own child is a little ridiculous if you ask me. They are both over here at our home nonstop, stealing away all of Freddie’s attention.
“Honorary uncles too,” Rhodes adds, sitting on his knees next to them and picking Freddie up to recreate a scene from Godzilla as he crashes her through the blocks.
Harper, Ryan, and my mother all sit back on the couch, laughing as they take turns playing blocks and monsters with her. It’s her favorite game.
There is not a single soul in this room who would ever dare to say Freddie isn’t loved. It’s so obvious by the way she’s garnered the attention of each person, including the always grumpy Smith, who is admittedly a little less grumpy these days.
Lowell slides his arms around my waist, dropping his chin to rest on my head.
“They’re so in love with her,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Just like I’m so in love with you.”
“That was incredibly cheesy. Say it again.”
He laughs. “I’m so in love with you.” He drops his lips to my ear and splays his hand across my still flat stomach. “All three of you.”
I might not be harboring secrets about an engagement, but I am harboring another one.
I’m pregnant.
We didn’t plan it, but we were significantly less shocked this time around.
“Do you think they’ll love the second one as much as the first?” I whisper to him.
“I don’t know how they couldn’t. We make cute babies.”
I grin at Freddie, her dark curls bouncing as she giggles with her whole body. “That we do.”
“Do you think we’ll love the baby just as much?”
“Yes. But I have to admit, I’ll love you a little less.”
My brows pinch together, and I look up at him. “You will?”
“Yes, but only because I’m going to have to make room in my heart for another girl. It’s nothing personal.”
My heart skips a beat. “I think that’s fair, even though there is no way it’s a girl.”
He lifts his brows. “You really want to bet against me on that given my track record?”
“You had a 50/50 chance of being right. It’s not that impressive.”
“No? Well, if you’re not impressed with that, let me show you something that will impress you.” He pushes his hips into me, and there’s no mistaking the feel of his cock against my ass.
“Lowell!” I hiss out. “We have company!”
“Uh, yeah, you do, and I’m going to pretend I didn’t just witness all that.” Emilia waves her hand in our direction as she passes us, plopping down on the couch between Miller and Smith.
Miller slips his arm across the back of the cushion behind her but removes it just as fast when he catches sight of the glare Smith is directing his way.
I tuck my lips together, trying not to laugh.
“Can we send them all home yet?” Lowell asks.
This time I do laugh. Lowell’s always been a notoriously private person, to the point that only like five people on the team even knew where he lived, but now we have almost a constant rotation of people in and out, especially on Sundays when we host brunch whenever the Comets are on a home game stretch.
“They just got here.”
“So? I’m ready to have you alone again.”
“You just had me alone.”
He runs his nose along my neck. “It wasn’t enough. But to be fair, it’ll never be enough.”
“I’m sure you’ll get tired of me eventually.”
“Not a chance.” He presses a kiss to my neck. “Forever, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Do you? Because if you need a reminder, I will gladly sign a legally binding agreement to make sure you don’t forget. You know, one with like rings and shit.”
I tip my head up, meeting his green eyes, which are usually so certain and so confident.
“Did you just propose to me?”
“No. Yes. Kind of?”
“Kind of?”
“I mean…” He runs his tongue along his lips. “Is that… Is that what you want?”
It doesn’t happen often—in fact, I’ve only seen him like this twice—but Lowell’s nervous.
“Is that what you want?” I echo.
“I asked you first.”
He grins, and I roll my eyes.
He chuckles at that. “Yes. It’s what I want.”
“Because I’m pregnant?”
His brows pull together. “No. I… No. Actually, I think I’ve wanted it since the moment we met.”
“You wanted to marry me when I punched you?”
“What can I say?” He shrugs. “I like ’em crazy.” He winks. “What do you say, darlin’? Want to get married?”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
I blink up at him, stunned.
“Don’t mess with me…” I warn, narrowing my eyes.
“I would never. I already know you got a mean right hook.”
“Cameron…I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He steps away from me…and drops right down on one knee. He shoves his hand into his pocket, producing a gorgeous teardrop ring.
My hand flies to my mouth because I was so not expecting this today.
“I love you, Hollis, more than I’ve ever loved anyone—aside from Freddie—in my entire life. Marry me.”
“I…” I glance over at the others, who are all now watching us intently, monsters and blocks completely forgotten. I look back down at Lowell, who is grinning up at me with a smirk that is just entirely too confident.
He knows—because of course he does—that I’m going to say…
“Yes!”
Everyone in the room explodes into a chorus of joy.
Lowell presses a quick kiss to my belly before pushing up to his feet, swooping me into his arms, and peppering me with kisses.
“Have you been planning this?” I ask him.
“This exact moment? No, but I’ve had the ring for a while now.”
“How long is a while?”
“Nine months.”
“But that’s…”
He’s had it since Freddie was born.
“Someone wants to say congrats to Mama and Dada.”
I grab Freddie from Harper, snuggling my baby close. Lowell wraps his arms around both of us, and I think this may be my favorite moment of ours yet.
“Ma…ma.”
I gasp, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh my gosh! She said Mama!”
“Now say dada.” Lowell tries to coax it out of her.
“Ma…ma,” Freddie says again, smiling.
“Say dada.”
She just grins up at him.
“Ha! Mama wins. Mama’s the favorite,” I taunt.
“That’s okay, little darlin’,” Lowell says, kissing her head but keeping his eyes on mine so I can see the pure love swimming in his eyes. “Mama’s my favorite too.”
I lied.
This is my favorite moment of ours.
Thank you for reading ONE-TIMER!
I hope you enjoyed Lowell & Hollis.
Want more Carolina Comets?
SIN BIN (Smith & Emilia) is up next!
One-Click SIN BIN Now >
Want more Lowell & Hollis?
Sign up for my newsletter for a bonus scene!
Looking for more Collin & Harper?
PUCK SHY is available now!
Keep swiping for a preview of PUCK SHY, an online/mistaken identity hockey romcom…
PUCK SHY PREVIEW
Collin
“No, no, no…”
Smoke billows from under the hood of my old beat-up Land Cruiser that has certainly seen better days. With a groan, I navigate it onto the shoulder, and just as I get the last tire off the main road, the car dies completely.
Dread sinks into my gut.
I’m more capable of handling a hockey stick than a wrench, but even I know smoke like this isn’t a good sign.
I sigh and yank up the emergency brake, then slam my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. I’ve already been stranded in a podunk town for two days while I had to wait on new tires to be delivered to replace my two popped ones.
Now, less than four hours from home, I’m fucked again.
I knew driving the old beater vehicle across the country probably wasn’t the best idea. I should have listened to my pops when he suggested I flatbed it. He knew the car wouldn’t make the trek from the middle of nowhere Kansas all the way to North Carolina.
I was determined to have the last few days of my break to myself though. Just me and the open road, nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.
Turns out that was a bad idea too because my thoughts suck as much as this car does.
The end of last season has been on perpetual repeat in my brain, and I’ve spent the entire drive thinking of all the things I could have done differently to not cost us the Stanley Cup.
Such as not taking a penalty just moments before the end of the tied regulation, which led to a goal and the loss of Game Six in overtime. After we won Game One, we were feeling good, ready to take it to the end. But after losing Games Two, Three, and Four—in overtime, no less—we were feeling defeated. We rallied for Game Five and barely scraped by with a win, but that spark was back. Then Game Six happened and we folded like a house of cards at the last minute, blowing the series.
It was a total punch to the heart.
I wish I could say that was the worst of it for me.
A car speeds by, shaking the SUV and pulling me from recalling one of the worst moments of my life.
I don’t need to take a trip down memory lane. Right now, I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do to get back home. Coach expects the team to report tomorrow at 8 AM, and after letting him down last season, I can’t be late. This year has to go better than last. I have a contract on the line. I need to get my shit together, prove I’m worth the time and money. I want to stay with the Comets, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
I pop the hood and hop out of the car to take a look at the damage.
When I peer in at the engine, it’s obvious I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. There’s errant fluid, and a low hiss echoes on the otherwise quiet road; it’s coming from around where the smoke is rising.
A tow is definitely in order.
I wipe my hands off on my jeans—something my mom would kill me for if she saw me—and round the car to grab my phone from the cup holder.
I search for the nearest mechanic and hit GO on the results.
And I wait.
Then wait some more.
Nothing.
There’s not enough service to get the results to load.
I walk up and down the road, but it’s no use. I’m in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing for miles.
With my frustration growing, I trek back to my car and survey the area. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. A rescue maybe? I didn’t pass many cars when driving, so I’m not expecting anyone to come flying down the road anytime soon.
I’m about an hour and a half from sunset, maybe less, and I think there was an exit about five or so miles back. If I hustle, I can probably make it before it gets too dark out.
“Fuck it,” I mutter to nobody but myself. “I’ll walk.”
Hell, maybe it’ll be good for me. Help clear my head.
I grab my wallet from the center console and a flashlight out of the glovebox just in case I need it, then lock up the car.
I shoot off a text to Rhodes, the one guy on the team who doesn’t want to choke the shit out of me, hoping it’ll go through eventually and he can send someone to help.
I slip my phone into my back pocket and, somehow—despite having done it a hundred times before—I miss.
The overpriced hunk of metal crashes to the ground. I don’t even have to pick it up to know the screen is shattered because that’s just the kind of luck I have lately.
Not that I give a shit about the phone being broken. I can buy another with no problem.
My issue is that everything that could possibly go wrong since blowing the Cup has gone wrong.
The week after we lost, a few guys from the team—the ones still talking to me—got together at a local bar to drown our sorrows. After one too many drinks were slung around, a brawl ensued after I witnessed some asshole manhandling a woman.
I did the right thing. I stepped in and handled shit.
But guess who got slapped with the cuffs after it was all said and done?
Me. That’s fucking who.
Luckily the asshole ended up dropping the charges when the truth about what started the fight came out.
The damage was done though. I was branded a hothead when the press began digging into my past, and a file that should have been clean suddenly wasn’t.
Two arrests for assault? Not a good look on the team.
With my name and face being splashed across headlines and social media, Coach suggested I lie low for the summer, get my head on straight before the upcoming season. So, I packed my bag and headed out west to my parents’ farm.
“I know. And so are you.” I wink.
“You know we can’t have sex for like six weeks, right?”
“I’m aware…”
“So, then, why are you saying so many nice things?”
I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers. “Because I’m in love with you…darlin’.”
She sighs. “I’ll let you get away with it this time, but only because you gave me a beautiful little girl.”
“Hell of a one-timer, right?”
“The best one-timer of my life.”
“I love you, Hollis.”
“And I love you…Cameron.”
EPILOGUE
Hollis
I was right.
About a month after Freddie was born, my mother packed up my childhood home, the one that held so many good and bad memories for her, and moved across the state to be closer to her new granddaughter. She is obsessed with Freddie.
Honestly, I can’t blame her—I’m obsessed too.
If I thought I loved my little girl when she was just a little flutter inside of me, I was wrong. That love is nothing compared to watching my baby grow.
It’s been nine months since my daughter was born, and I still can’t believe I’m a mother. I can’t believe I created and carried a little human and now I get to watch this baby flourish for the rest of her life.
Freddie laughs from across the room, the sound drawing my attention. Her tiny arms are outstretched toward her father, and I can’t help but smile as he plucks her from her grandmother’s grasp, blowing kisses into her chubby neck.
“You’re so in love with him. It’s gross.”
I peek over at my sister, who is watching Lowell with her own grin.
“You’re one to talk.” I flick my eyes to her husband, who is standing next to Lowell, making faces at Freddie. “You’re so in love with him.”
“Yeah. I am.” She sighs dreamily. “Can you believe this is where we are?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“You’re a mother.”
“And you’re a wife.”
“And soon you’re going to be a wife…right?” She lifts her brows in question like I’m harboring some sort of secret.
I laugh then flash her my hand. “Still ringless.”
She sighs again, only this time it’s less wistful and more out of irritation. “Fool.”
These last two years have been the most tumultuous of my life between finding my ex-husband cheating on me, divorcing him, getting pregnant by my one-night stand, and then falling in love with said one-timer. Add in moving in with Lowell and adjusting to motherhood plus being a pro-hockey player’s girlfriend on top of that, and—yeah, it’s been a crazy ride.
But if Lowell were to ask…I’d say yes in a heartbeat.
Much like how I thought I loved Freddie before she was born, if I thought the love I had for Lowell was strong before our baby came into this world, I was dead wrong. Watching him become a father has taken my feelings for him to a whole different level.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the first time he had to leave for a road game after Freddie was born. During the birth? Not a single tear, but leaving Freddie’s side for the first time? He lost it. He cried for ten minutes before he finally got out the door to catch the flight. His coach reamed him a new one, but Lowell swears spending those extra minutes with his child was worth it.
That was the first moment I fell even more in love with him. There have been about a hundred other moments since then that have made me fall even harder.
Like the time he got home at two AM after an away game then insisted on being on nighttime duty with Freddie, who was struggling to sleep through the night.
When we went for a date night and my boobs started leaking through my dress, even though he wasn’t wearing an undershirt, he took his dress shirt off so I could cover up. He didn’t even care that he had to go shirtless under his suit jacket throughout the rest of our dinner.
And even now, today, he’s been walking around wearing that silly shirt I bought for him the first Christmas we spent together, not the least bit embarrassed by the bold WORLD’S HOTTEST HOCKEY DAD letters across it.
As if he knows we’re talking about him, Lowell’s eyes find mine, and a huge grin lights up his face. He stalks toward us, Freddie in his arms. She reaches out for me, but Harper steps in, stealing her away.
“What? You don’t want Mama. You want Auntie Harper! Aunts are way cooler than moms,” she says, brushing her nose against Freddie’s as her niece laughs and burbles out some nonsense.
“Moms and aunts are cool and all, but uncles are where it’s at!” Collin declares, stealing Freddie from his wife’s arms. He plops her down onto her playmat, dropping to the floor and stacking up blocks as Freddie watches with giddiness. She knows exactly what’s coming.
Harper and Collin are still firmly against having their own children, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t complete constants in Freddie’s life. The number of times I’ve had to beg my sister to spend time with my own child is a little ridiculous if you ask me. They are both over here at our home nonstop, stealing away all of Freddie’s attention.
“Honorary uncles too,” Rhodes adds, sitting on his knees next to them and picking Freddie up to recreate a scene from Godzilla as he crashes her through the blocks.
Harper, Ryan, and my mother all sit back on the couch, laughing as they take turns playing blocks and monsters with her. It’s her favorite game.
There is not a single soul in this room who would ever dare to say Freddie isn’t loved. It’s so obvious by the way she’s garnered the attention of each person, including the always grumpy Smith, who is admittedly a little less grumpy these days.
Lowell slides his arms around my waist, dropping his chin to rest on my head.
“They’re so in love with her,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Just like I’m so in love with you.”
“That was incredibly cheesy. Say it again.”
He laughs. “I’m so in love with you.” He drops his lips to my ear and splays his hand across my still flat stomach. “All three of you.”
I might not be harboring secrets about an engagement, but I am harboring another one.
I’m pregnant.
We didn’t plan it, but we were significantly less shocked this time around.
“Do you think they’ll love the second one as much as the first?” I whisper to him.
“I don’t know how they couldn’t. We make cute babies.”
I grin at Freddie, her dark curls bouncing as she giggles with her whole body. “That we do.”
“Do you think we’ll love the baby just as much?”
“Yes. But I have to admit, I’ll love you a little less.”
My brows pinch together, and I look up at him. “You will?”
“Yes, but only because I’m going to have to make room in my heart for another girl. It’s nothing personal.”
My heart skips a beat. “I think that’s fair, even though there is no way it’s a girl.”
He lifts his brows. “You really want to bet against me on that given my track record?”
“You had a 50/50 chance of being right. It’s not that impressive.”
“No? Well, if you’re not impressed with that, let me show you something that will impress you.” He pushes his hips into me, and there’s no mistaking the feel of his cock against my ass.
“Lowell!” I hiss out. “We have company!”
“Uh, yeah, you do, and I’m going to pretend I didn’t just witness all that.” Emilia waves her hand in our direction as she passes us, plopping down on the couch between Miller and Smith.
Miller slips his arm across the back of the cushion behind her but removes it just as fast when he catches sight of the glare Smith is directing his way.
I tuck my lips together, trying not to laugh.
“Can we send them all home yet?” Lowell asks.
This time I do laugh. Lowell’s always been a notoriously private person, to the point that only like five people on the team even knew where he lived, but now we have almost a constant rotation of people in and out, especially on Sundays when we host brunch whenever the Comets are on a home game stretch.
“They just got here.”
“So? I’m ready to have you alone again.”
“You just had me alone.”
He runs his nose along my neck. “It wasn’t enough. But to be fair, it’ll never be enough.”
“I’m sure you’ll get tired of me eventually.”
“Not a chance.” He presses a kiss to my neck. “Forever, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Do you? Because if you need a reminder, I will gladly sign a legally binding agreement to make sure you don’t forget. You know, one with like rings and shit.”
I tip my head up, meeting his green eyes, which are usually so certain and so confident.
“Did you just propose to me?”
“No. Yes. Kind of?”
“Kind of?”
“I mean…” He runs his tongue along his lips. “Is that… Is that what you want?”
It doesn’t happen often—in fact, I’ve only seen him like this twice—but Lowell’s nervous.
“Is that what you want?” I echo.
“I asked you first.”
He grins, and I roll my eyes.
He chuckles at that. “Yes. It’s what I want.”
“Because I’m pregnant?”
His brows pull together. “No. I… No. Actually, I think I’ve wanted it since the moment we met.”
“You wanted to marry me when I punched you?”
“What can I say?” He shrugs. “I like ’em crazy.” He winks. “What do you say, darlin’? Want to get married?”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
I blink up at him, stunned.
“Don’t mess with me…” I warn, narrowing my eyes.
“I would never. I already know you got a mean right hook.”
“Cameron…I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He steps away from me…and drops right down on one knee. He shoves his hand into his pocket, producing a gorgeous teardrop ring.
My hand flies to my mouth because I was so not expecting this today.
“I love you, Hollis, more than I’ve ever loved anyone—aside from Freddie—in my entire life. Marry me.”
“I…” I glance over at the others, who are all now watching us intently, monsters and blocks completely forgotten. I look back down at Lowell, who is grinning up at me with a smirk that is just entirely too confident.
He knows—because of course he does—that I’m going to say…
“Yes!”
Everyone in the room explodes into a chorus of joy.
Lowell presses a quick kiss to my belly before pushing up to his feet, swooping me into his arms, and peppering me with kisses.
“Have you been planning this?” I ask him.
“This exact moment? No, but I’ve had the ring for a while now.”
“How long is a while?”
“Nine months.”
“But that’s…”
He’s had it since Freddie was born.
“Someone wants to say congrats to Mama and Dada.”
I grab Freddie from Harper, snuggling my baby close. Lowell wraps his arms around both of us, and I think this may be my favorite moment of ours yet.
“Ma…ma.”
I gasp, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh my gosh! She said Mama!”
“Now say dada.” Lowell tries to coax it out of her.
“Ma…ma,” Freddie says again, smiling.
“Say dada.”
She just grins up at him.
“Ha! Mama wins. Mama’s the favorite,” I taunt.
“That’s okay, little darlin’,” Lowell says, kissing her head but keeping his eyes on mine so I can see the pure love swimming in his eyes. “Mama’s my favorite too.”
I lied.
This is my favorite moment of ours.
Thank you for reading ONE-TIMER!
I hope you enjoyed Lowell & Hollis.
Want more Carolina Comets?
SIN BIN (Smith & Emilia) is up next!
One-Click SIN BIN Now >
Want more Lowell & Hollis?
Sign up for my newsletter for a bonus scene!
Looking for more Collin & Harper?
PUCK SHY is available now!
Keep swiping for a preview of PUCK SHY, an online/mistaken identity hockey romcom…
PUCK SHY PREVIEW
Collin
“No, no, no…”
Smoke billows from under the hood of my old beat-up Land Cruiser that has certainly seen better days. With a groan, I navigate it onto the shoulder, and just as I get the last tire off the main road, the car dies completely.
Dread sinks into my gut.
I’m more capable of handling a hockey stick than a wrench, but even I know smoke like this isn’t a good sign.
I sigh and yank up the emergency brake, then slam my hand against the steering wheel in frustration. I’ve already been stranded in a podunk town for two days while I had to wait on new tires to be delivered to replace my two popped ones.
Now, less than four hours from home, I’m fucked again.
I knew driving the old beater vehicle across the country probably wasn’t the best idea. I should have listened to my pops when he suggested I flatbed it. He knew the car wouldn’t make the trek from the middle of nowhere Kansas all the way to North Carolina.
I was determined to have the last few days of my break to myself though. Just me and the open road, nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.
Turns out that was a bad idea too because my thoughts suck as much as this car does.
The end of last season has been on perpetual repeat in my brain, and I’ve spent the entire drive thinking of all the things I could have done differently to not cost us the Stanley Cup.
Such as not taking a penalty just moments before the end of the tied regulation, which led to a goal and the loss of Game Six in overtime. After we won Game One, we were feeling good, ready to take it to the end. But after losing Games Two, Three, and Four—in overtime, no less—we were feeling defeated. We rallied for Game Five and barely scraped by with a win, but that spark was back. Then Game Six happened and we folded like a house of cards at the last minute, blowing the series.
It was a total punch to the heart.
I wish I could say that was the worst of it for me.
A car speeds by, shaking the SUV and pulling me from recalling one of the worst moments of my life.
I don’t need to take a trip down memory lane. Right now, I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do to get back home. Coach expects the team to report tomorrow at 8 AM, and after letting him down last season, I can’t be late. This year has to go better than last. I have a contract on the line. I need to get my shit together, prove I’m worth the time and money. I want to stay with the Comets, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
I pop the hood and hop out of the car to take a look at the damage.
When I peer in at the engine, it’s obvious I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. There’s errant fluid, and a low hiss echoes on the otherwise quiet road; it’s coming from around where the smoke is rising.
A tow is definitely in order.
I wipe my hands off on my jeans—something my mom would kill me for if she saw me—and round the car to grab my phone from the cup holder.
I search for the nearest mechanic and hit GO on the results.
And I wait.
Then wait some more.
Nothing.
There’s not enough service to get the results to load.
I walk up and down the road, but it’s no use. I’m in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing for miles.
With my frustration growing, I trek back to my car and survey the area. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. A rescue maybe? I didn’t pass many cars when driving, so I’m not expecting anyone to come flying down the road anytime soon.
I’m about an hour and a half from sunset, maybe less, and I think there was an exit about five or so miles back. If I hustle, I can probably make it before it gets too dark out.
“Fuck it,” I mutter to nobody but myself. “I’ll walk.”
Hell, maybe it’ll be good for me. Help clear my head.
I grab my wallet from the center console and a flashlight out of the glovebox just in case I need it, then lock up the car.
I shoot off a text to Rhodes, the one guy on the team who doesn’t want to choke the shit out of me, hoping it’ll go through eventually and he can send someone to help.
I slip my phone into my back pocket and, somehow—despite having done it a hundred times before—I miss.
The overpriced hunk of metal crashes to the ground. I don’t even have to pick it up to know the screen is shattered because that’s just the kind of luck I have lately.
Not that I give a shit about the phone being broken. I can buy another with no problem.
My issue is that everything that could possibly go wrong since blowing the Cup has gone wrong.
The week after we lost, a few guys from the team—the ones still talking to me—got together at a local bar to drown our sorrows. After one too many drinks were slung around, a brawl ensued after I witnessed some asshole manhandling a woman.
I did the right thing. I stepped in and handled shit.
But guess who got slapped with the cuffs after it was all said and done?
Me. That’s fucking who.
Luckily the asshole ended up dropping the charges when the truth about what started the fight came out.
The damage was done though. I was branded a hothead when the press began digging into my past, and a file that should have been clean suddenly wasn’t.
Two arrests for assault? Not a good look on the team.
With my name and face being splashed across headlines and social media, Coach suggested I lie low for the summer, get my head on straight before the upcoming season. So, I packed my bag and headed out west to my parents’ farm.
