“No. That’s true.”
“Is there anything you could do to help him deal with it?”
I tilt my head, letting that sink in. “I don’t know…maybe…” Ideas play out in my head. “But if I do, Hunter will never speak to me again.”
“Seems like he’s not speaking to you now.”
I blow out a sharp breath. “True.”
“You’re thinking about this.”
I make a face. “I shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Better to do nothing and let him screw things up.”
Doing nothing has never been the way I operate. I take on challenges and get shit done. It’s not like me to sit around waiting for something or someone.
Later that night, lying in bed, I think about it more. Hunter’s already mad at me. If I wasn’t so convinced that facing this problem would be a good thing for him, I’d drop it. But Soledad’s prodding has generated an idea. It could be a disaster…or it could be the best thing that could happen. Is that a risk I’m willing to take?
* * *
HUNTER
* * *
I spend the evening on the deck of the hotel bar, looking out at the ocean as the sun sets. The warm day becomes cool. I’m right under a patio heater and I brought a hoodie down with me, so I pull it on and continue to sit out here as dusk falls and the ocean and sky turn midnight blue. The trees are silhouetted black against the sky and stars appear, tiny sequins twinkling above.
All the things Roberta said earlier run through my head and I try to make sense of them.
If you try to deny that…if you try to bury it or ignore it…it can have even more power over you.
Is that what I’m doing? Burying it? Avoiding it, more likely. Avoiding seeing Josh and Easton. Is that giving my trauma more power over me?
The answer is certainly yes. I’m refusing to sign a dream deal because of it. How fucked up is that?
If you’re willing to face it, you may find yourself open to the possibility of growth that brings.
I don’t want to grow. I just want my life to go on the way it was.
But that can’t happen. Life isn’t going to go back the way it was. I’m done with the Storm. I have to move on. I’ve worked so hard to be the best hockey player I can be. Now…maybe I have to work at being the best person I can be.
I want to be the best man I can be for myself…but also for Kate. She believes in me. I want to deserve that faith.
I slump lower into the wicker chair on the deck. Right now, I don’t deserve that.
But there is much of you that is unbroken. Those are the things you need to rediscover.
Okay. Hold up. Maybe there are parts of me that deserve that.
Like what?
It’s easy to identify my flaws. It’s not so easy to be kind to myself.
I’m a good hockey player. I’m gritty. I’m loyal to my team. I sacrifice my body to block shots. In the dressing room, the other guys like me. I’ve made friends. Especially Hakim.
I went through a traumatic experience and ended up still achieving my goal. I brush away thoughts about how long it took. I did it. That’s what matters. That takes strength. Determination.
Deep down inside, I want more. This contract was all about esteem and recognition for what I’ve done. Being validated as a hockey player. But to be validated as a good person…that takes love.
I want Kate’s love. I think that’s what I’ve always wanted. Love. Acceptance. Belonging. She showed me those things and what did I do? Threw them in her face.
Pain slices through me like a knife. I almost groan aloud, which would attract attention from the other patrons out here, some who are talking and laughing boisterously, others sitting close together and quietly whispering.
I remember a coach saying to me once, if you can’t take a hit, get off the ice.
I used to buy into that. But now I wonder if getting off the ice is quitting. We all take hits. We all need deal with them. It’s how you deal with them that makes you who you are.
That’s what I have to do.
I have to go back to New York. I have to talk to Kate. I have to take that deal from the Bears. And I have to talk to Josh and Easton.
In the morning, I shower and pack up the few things I brought. I go down to the restaurant for coffee and breakfast before I check out and head back to Victoria. While I’m sitting with my coffee at a table at the low stone wall separating the restaurant from the lobby, I pull out my phone to look for flights from Vancouver to New York, trying to coordinate with ferry times. I’m getting frustrated because it’s not working out unless I want to drive like a maniac back to Victoria.
I drop my phone to the table and make an aggravated noise.
“Hunter.”
I look up.
Holy shit. What is happening?
Am I dreaming this? Because I’ve been thinking about these two guys so much?
I stare at Easton and Josh, standing next to my table in the hotel restaurant. My mouth hangs open wide enough to drive a Hummer in.
They give me crooked smiles.
“What…?” I shake my head, closing my eyes briefly, but when I open them, they’re still there. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. Mind if we join you?”
Without waiting for my answer, Josh pulls out a chair opposite me and sits. Easton sits next to him. A waitress approaches with a coffee pot and a big smile. “Hi guys. Coffee for you?”
“That would be great.” Easton pushes the cup on the table closer to her.
“Could I get a Coke?” Josh asks.
“You bet. Do you want to order breakfast as well?” she asks, after filling the cup. “I can get you menus.”
“Nah, just coffee’s good,” Easton replies.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask.
“We heard a rumor that the Bears have offered you a contract,” Josh says.
I blink. “You did?”
“It’s just a rumor,” Easton adds. “Who knows if it’s true.” He shrugs.
I stare again.
“But…if it was true…and it was a great contract…that would be fucking awesome,” Easton continues.
I focus on breathing, because my heart is slamming so hard against my sternum my lungs are having a hard time expanding. “It would be.”
“So you’ve signed the contract?” Easton hoists a challenging eyebrow.
“You fucking know I haven’t.” I glare at him. Then my lips twitch. I can’t help it. I grin. “But I’m going to.”
Now it’s their turn to stare. “You are?”
“Yeah. Assuming I haven’t fucked things up beyond repair. Assuming my agent is still representing me.”
“Yeah, about your agent…” Easton pauses.
“What?” I frown.
“She’s hot.”
Josh gives Easton an elbow. “Hey. You’re practically a married man. Shut up.”
He shrugs. “Just an observation. Obviously she’s not as hot as Lilly.”
“Lilly’s your girlfriend?” I ask.
“Yeah.” His face goes soft and kind of lovey-dovey.