As my pulse drums in my ears, I draw in a shaky breath, exhale slowly, and make my way over to Coach Jensen.
“Coach…can I speak to you in private?” I mutter, and just like that, he gets the look. The one that tells me he knows exactly what I’m going to say, and that he’d rather slit his own wrists than hear me say it.
“Sure,” he answers after a long, strained beat.
He leads me to his office. We don’t sit. I don’t speak.
He waits, but I can’t bring myself to voice the confession. Christ. I’m so disgusted with myself right now. So fucking ashamed.
Coach sighs. “You’re gonna make me ask you, is that it? Fine, I’ll ask.” He pauses. “What’s going to happen when you piss in that cup, Dean?”
The shame builds inside me until I can practically taste it when I gulp.
“What are the results going to show?” he pushes, his expression unbearably resigned. “Marijuana? Cocaine?”
“MDMA,” I mumble.
He closes his eyes briefly. Then he opens them. “All right. Thanks for letting me know.”
I leave his office feeling like a man on death row.
Two days later, I get kicked off the team.
33
Allie
Three days after I storm out of Dean’s house insisting I’m done, I meet him at the Coffee Hut on campus. Every girl in the room turns to admire him when he walks through the door. I do too, because…God, he looks like the Dean I fell in love with. Green eyes dancing playfully as he orders a coffee at the counter, blond hair smoothed away from his chiseled face, cargo pants clinging to his perfect ass.
All I have to do is look at his face to know he hasn’t been drinking today. Maybe not for a few days, actually. Hannah told me last night that Dean failed a drug test and was kicked off the team. I can’t deny my heart broke when I heard that, because I know how important hockey is to him, but the news hadn’t surprised me, either. You can’t drink excessively and take drugs without facing the consequences. At the rate he was going, the partying was bound to catch up to him.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t seem upset when I raise the subject, which is the first thing we tackle after he slides into the seat across from me. He simply shrugs. “I had it coming.” With a pained expression, he adds, “But I didn’t come here to talk about the team. I wanted to apologize to you.”
I nod. It’s what I figured when I got his text invitation, but holy déjà vu because this is the second time in three months I’ve been in this position. Last time it was me and Sean. Sitting in this very coffeehouse, having this very same conversation. But this time, the ache in my heart is a million times worse, because I’m still in love with Dean. Hopelessly, desperately in love with him.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I fucked up.” His long, graceful fingers encircle his coffee cup. “I didn’t handle Beau’s death too well. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m handling it now, but hey, at least I’m sober.”
I nod again.
“I’m sorry I missed your play. And I’m so fucking sorry I put you in the position where you had to make excuses for me. With Coach Ellis and—” his voice cracks “—Dakota. I plan on apologizing to them too and begging their forgiveness. But I wanted to see you first.”
I know he had. He’s been calling and texting for three days, but I hadn’t agreed to meet him until now. My emotions were too raw.
Dean gulps his coffee. When he speaks again, his voice is thick with shame. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
My heart? God, my heart is ravaged right now. It feels like it just weathered a hurricane. Hurricane Dean. I still can’t erase Friday night from my mind. Standing on stage and looking into the crowd and not seeing Dean. Coming home to find him high as a kite.
Can I forgive him, though?
Fuck, of course I can. I don’t hold grudges. Life’s too short for that.
“Of course I can forgive you.” I don’t miss the spark of hope in his eyes, and it kills me to extinguish it. “But this isn’t about forgiveness.”
“What’s it about then?”
“You tell me. Did you ask me here to get back together?”
He nods slowly. His entire face softens. “I love you,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t want to be apart from you.”
Pain spirals inside me. I don’t want to be apart from him either. But…I think I need to be.
“I…can’t be with you,” I whisper.