What it’s like to lose.
And after all the work they put into tonight’s game and the shitty calls made by the refs? They’ve earned a little alcohol to drown out the pain.
Henry’s here too. We haven't spoken much. I’ve been too busy doing my job, and he’s been doing the same, chatting with the team, letting them bitch about tonight’s turnout.
The man’s a sex god, and while the team might wanna drown out the loss with alcohol, I’d rather drown it with orgasms. Preferably ones delivered by the one and only. He’s busy clinking glasses with Colt and Theo when his eyes find mine. A familiar heat simmers behind them, hinting he might be thinking the same thing.
With a smile, I lift my chin in a silent hello as I pour tequila shots for a group of puck bunnies when my phone begins ringing in the black apron tied around my waist.
Curious, I wipe my hands on a dishtowel and pull my phone out.
Uncle Fen’s name flashes across the screen, and I slide my thumb across it. “Hello?”
Silence.
I plug my ear with my opposite hand and close my eyes as if the lack of sight will heighten my hearing, but it does nothing to block out the chaos surrounding me. “Hello? Uncle Fen?”
“Hey, Mia,” Fen answers.
“Hey. What’s up?” I ask. “Everything okay?”
“Mia, honey,” Aunt Hadley chimes in. They must have me on speaker.
Pressing a finger to my pierced tragus in an attempt to quiet the chaos around me, I say, “Okay, you guys are officially freaking me out. What’s wrong?”
“Pixie’s gone,” Uncle Fen chokes out.
Like a sucker punch to the gut, the words hit me hard, and the air whooshes from my lungs. “W-what did you say?”
“Pixie,” Aunt Hadley repeats. “She’s gone, Mia.”
A low buzz echoes in my ears as I stumble around the edge of the bar, praying I’m hallucinating. I head toward the breakroom but only make it as far as the hallway when my legs threaten to give out, and I lean my side against the rough brick wall. “W-what happened?”
“We’re not sure.” Uncle Fen sighs. “We left her on the bus during the concert so she could sleep, and when we got back…”
I rub at the center of my chest, but the ache doesn’t go away. It only grows, leaving me breathless and broken.
No. No, no, no. Not Pixie. Not her.
“Mia, I’m so sorry,” Uncle Fender says. “I know you trusted me to look after her, and––”
“You were the best thing for her.” I blink back my tears and tilt my head toward the ceiling, willing the moisture to go away. “I was…I was really hoping I would’ve had a chance to say goodbye or at least been warned the end was coming, ya know?” I wipe beneath my nose with the back of my hand and let it fall to my side as if my arm weighs a thousand pounds. “Fuck.”
“I know,” Aunt Hadley murmurs. I’m not sure if she’s comforting me or Uncle Fen. After all, Pixie is one of the reasons Fender’s sober now. He must be feeling the loss as badly as I am. And it sucks. It really freaking sucks. She was my dog. My baby. Proof my dad wasn’t always an asshole. Proof he could be thoughtful. Genuine. And now, she’s gone.
My body shakes, and I nearly choke on the sob caught in my throat but manage to swallow it back.
Not here.
Don’t lose your shit here.
“Don’t know what I would’ve done without her,” Fender grits out. “Can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I gotta go,” I whisper.
“I’m so sorry, Mia,” he returns.
“I know.”
I hang up and lean my head against the rough wall. My emotions are a jumbled mess of heartache and regret. I should’ve been there for her. I should’ve gone to see her more. I should’ve told Fender to go fuck himself and taken her back to my apartment. I should’ve done a lot of things. But she’s gone.
She’s gone.
“What’s wrong?” a low voice asks from behind me.
I clear my throat, but the golf-ball-sized lump doesn’t ease up. It only chokes me more until I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. The sob I’d been holding back bursts free, the pain hitting like a tsunami. Arms encircle me instantly, and I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s like heavy, jagged rocks have been shoved into my chest, and the sharp weight is more than I can bear.
“Mia, what’s wrong?” Henry demands, turning me around and making me face him.
I shake my head against his hard chest, unable to think the words let alone speak them out loud.
“Tell me, Mia, or I swear to God I’ll rip this place apart until I find out––”
“Pixie’s gone.”
His hands freeze against my back. “What do you mean gone?”
“She’s gone, Henry. She died.” Another sob breaks free, and my chest heaves. “She’s gone, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. And I know she’s just a dog, and I know she was old and she wasn’t going to live forever, but it fucking sucks, Henry. Why does everyone leave? Why does everyone have to die?”
He squeezes me tighter, then guides me down the small hallway toward the exit. “Come on.”
I shake my head and try to shrug out of his hold. “I have to work, I have to––”
His grip tightens. “I’ll take care of it.”
I’m too exhausted to protest. Too exhausted to put up a fight. Instead, I go with him, my legs nothing but spaghetti noodles as I lean against his unyielding frame and let Henry take my weight. When we reach the streets, the cool air knocks some sense into me, and I take a shuddered breath, wiping at my tear-stained cheeks.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I see my mascara-streaked fingers. I must look like a mess.
Get a grip on yourself, Mia.
“Come on,” Henry repeats, but I pull away from him.
“I’m fine.”
“Mia––”
“It’s just a dog, Henry.” The words leave a bad taste in my mouth, but he wouldn’t understand. He doesn’t even like animals. He probably thinks I’m an idiot for crying over something so trivial. And honestly, he’s not wrong. I’m being ridiculous. I release another shuddered breath and try to reel myself in.
Breathe.
I dig my fingernails into my palms, praying the biting pain will ground me.
Just fucking breathe, Mia.
“It’s not just a dog,” Henry argues. “It’s Pixie.” He reaches for my hand again, and this time, I’m too weak to fight him. To be strong. To be indifferent or to put on my proverbial badass mask.
God, it’s Pixie.
She’s gone.
And she’s never coming back.
Another sob escapes me. He leads me to a shadowed corner at the edge of the parking lot where we can find an ounce of privacy and wraps me in a hug.
“Sh... ” He rubs his hand up and down my back. “What can I do? Can I drive you somewhere? Fly you to wherever she is? How can I fix this?”
“You can’t fix this,” I whisper. “She’s gone. And there’s nothing we can do about it.” My bottom lip trembles, and I squeeze my eyes shut again, praying with enough effort, the force will block out the world entirely.