And was I just someone who went hockey player to hockey player? A puck bunny?
I told myself I would take a day to think. One day turned into two. Two days turned into three. And things with Chase were getting increasingly strained. I wasn’t handling things well; I knew that. And in the past, any time I tried to resolve an issue, I inevitably made it worse. Somehow, I always tripped up. Things came out the wrong way, and everything blew up in my face.
It always turned into a fight, and I hated fighting.
Maybe I was being illogical, but it was like being scared of a spider—an irrational, physiological fear I could not seem to shake.
Was I overreacting? Probably. But I had been sucked into this vortex filled with horrible, familiar feelings, and I didn’t know how to get back out. Like being trapped in a pinball machine, rebounding back and forth between fear, hope, mistrust, and guilt.
Paul’s words played in my head like a broken record, setting off a vicious cycle of rumination. I’d waffle between dismissing it as ridiculous and second-guessing myself, wondering if it could be true. Sometimes, I considered talking to Chase about it, but if it was true, he would never admit it. And if it wasn’t, I didn’t want to upset—or insult—him.
I went over it again and again in my head.
The only conclusion I could come to was that I had no idea what to do.
OceanofPDF.com
CHASE
After days of heavy tension at home, one blowout fight, and tears I’d overheard while I was trying to sleep, Dallas and Siobhan finally made things official.
Ward was over the moon like a dopey puppy dog about the whole thing, and they’d been extra affectionate ever since.
I was happy for them. Really, I was.
Except something was going on with Bailey.
Holed up in my room after a disastrous practice, I stared at my phone like it would somehow reveal an answer. Rereading text messages for the tenth time didn’t provide any insight. Restless energy seized me, and I went downstairs because I couldn’t sit still.
As I hit the bottom step, I found Shiv curled up on the living room couch, highlighting something in a biology textbook. Asking her was worth a shot, I guessed.
“Have you talked to Bailey recently?” I propped myself up against the wall, trying and failing to sound casual.
She glanced up at me, yellow highlighter in midair. “Not a ton,” she said, looking thoughtful. “We’ve texted a bit, but she’s been busy with classes and packing.”
“Ah.” I nodded. That was the same line Bailey had fed me. Repeatedly.
“How come?” Shiv studied my face, dark brows crinkling.
“No reason.”
Except she’d been replying with one-and two-word texts for days, making vague excuses when I tried to make plans, and blowing me off in general. A total one-eighty from less than a week ago.
At first, I assumed she was just having a bad day. We all had them. The second day, I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t want to be unreasonable or demanding. But now it was after eight p.m. on the fourth day of this shit. I had still barely spoken to her, and not for lack of trying.
I hadn’t understood when Ward didn’t know what was up with him and Shiv. Now I was eating my words with a fucking fork because I had no idea what was going on with Bailey. I’d flat-out asked her, and she said everything was fine.
It clearly wasn’t.
Worse still, I didn’t know why.
All day, I’d been distracted as hell. School had been a wash, and practice was a tire fire. After I got off the ice, I’d received a stern reprimand from Coach Miller for botching nearly every drill. And some of them were incredibly straightforward. Skate straight and shoot, that kind of thing. It was downright embarrassing.
It didn’t help that she was everywhere. In my brain, in my bed, in my truck, in the dressing room, in the corner of the goddamn rink.
Fuck this.
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 37
OceanofPDF.com
COUNT ON IT
Chase
If she wouldn’t come to me, then I would go to her.
After blatantly disregarding the speed limit and one questionable four-way stop, I made it over to Bailey’s complex and parked haphazardly in the visitor zone. I killed the engine and slammed the driver’s side door, then speed-walked over to her place like a heat-seeking missile.
I sprinted up the steps and came to a screeching halt in front of the navy blue door, staring at the scattered scratches and scuffs in the paint. Doing my best to center myself, I drew in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling heavily through my nose, getting my head on straight like I was heading onto the ice.
It didn’t work. At all.
Rolling my shoulders back, I rang the bell and followed it up by pounding on the front door like a cop with a warrant. I hoped she was home studying like she said, because I needed an explanation. Stat.
The lock rattled, and the door opened a crack. A sliver of Jillian’s face appeared. “What do you want, Carter?”
For you to get the fuck out of the way, but I couldn’t use my outside voice for that sentiment.
“I need to talk to Bailey.” I nodded at the door. “Let me in.”
Jillian swung open the door, revealing Amelia standing beside her. They eyed me disdainfully, like two partners in snottiness. They didn’t like me, and the feeling was more than mutual.
“B would let you know if she wanted to talk to you,” Amelia said, giving me a death stare.
Jillian curled her upper lip. “Maybe she’s come to her senses.”
My teeth set on edge. I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of either to begin with, but my usual sense of hostility was amplified times a billion right now. They were meddling, and I didn’t appreciate it.
I could not fucking wait for James to move. Counting down the days.
“You know what?” I said, using every shred of restraint I had to keep from raising my voice. “After the way the two of you have treated her, I’m not in the mood to watch you pretend to give a shit now.”
Amelia huffed. “You can’t talk to us like that.”
Since when? Maybe a hockey player chewing out a hockey girlfriend violated some stupid bro code. Which meant I would probably hear about it from Paul and Mendez later. Whatever.
“Pretty sure I just did.” They backed up as I took a step closer. I ducked my head through the doorway and leaned into the house. “James!”
A door creaked open, followed by the sound of footsteps. Bailey came down the stairs, wearing purple and gray plaid pajama pants with a matching purple sweater, bare feet, and messy hair loose around her shoulders.
She looked so perfect that something inside of me broke.
Possibly the last tether to my sanity.
When she made it halfway down the staircase, her gaze landed on me, her eyes widening. Probably because I looked like a madman running on adrenaline, frustration, and lust, which had combined to form some cocaine-like substance in my body. Something like that. I’d never done cocaine, but I was amped as fuck.
For all the pride I took in generally being calm and collected, I most certainly was not right now.
Bailey came to stand next to Jillian and Amelia at the door. “Chase.” Her brow furrowed. “What are you—”
“We need to talk.”
She froze. Her hazel eyes swung from me to Jillian and Amelia, then back to me. If she took their side on this, I might never get over it. No, I would definitely never get over it.