“I liked seeing you happy again last night. You and Cara—”
“Are over,” I snapped.
“Ah,” Gauthier replied with a slow nod of his head, as if I’d explained everything in two words.
“Leave me alone, Cap. I don’t need another lecture from you. I know I played like shit.”
“You’re harder on yourself than I ever could be,” he responded.
“Well, I don’t want to hear the rest of it either. I’m not going to see Cara anymore. I’m not going to cause any more trouble. I just want to play my last game with the team before they trade me.”
Gauthier went rigid. “What the hell, Hux? Why would you think that?”
“What? That they’d trade me?” I stood up and paced the room, throwing my hands up in the air. “Why wouldn’t they? I’m nothing but a walking press disaster.”
Gauthier chuckled darkly and shook his head. “You’ve been unlucky, that’s all. The TMZ scoop was bullshit, and we both know it. If Minns or Kamirah had spoken up, it would have all gone away without more than a ripple. Hell, they didn’t even need to tell the truth. They could have made up any bullshit to keep the vultures off.”
I swallowed hard. Gauthier was talking like he knew what happened. My stomach instantly knotted. How did he know? I hadn’t breathed a word. I sucked in a choppy breath. Panic rose in me. My heart rate spiked and my hands turned clammy.
Gauthier stood up and grasped my shoulders, squeezing them hard enough to lift my gaze to his. “But you’re done with them. You’ve moved on. Everyone has their panties in a twist at the moment, but it’ll die down. I know that you didn't have an affair with Kam. More importantly, you do too. Others will figure it out soon enough, and if they don’t, fuck ’em.”
“Fuck ’em?” I huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a resigned sigh and shook my head. My shoulders fell as all the fight drained out of me, the weight of the last few weeks sitting heavy on my shoulders. I was tired of all the bullshit. Gauthier was right—Iwashappy last night. Having Cara in my arms was incredible. Having Monroe there with me would have been even better. But I took what I could, and it was the first time in literally years that I’d been able to hold someone without fear of being caught, without fear of judgement.
Except that both of those things had happened anyway.
We’d ended up social media fodder. I didn’t care what they said about me. But they’d trashed Cara. She’d borne the brunt of the hurtful words. I’d seen red. I was itching for a fight, hoping to beat the shit out of something. I was so fucking angry andscared. My reaction made me realize just how far I’d fallen for them. How was I going to survive leaving them? Pushing them away wasn’t healthy. It was downright awful. But no one ever said I was a genius, and Roe was right there. He bit back and gave as good as he got.
But I was so wrong, it hadn’t been funny.
I shouldn’t have lashed out at him. I should have wrapped him in my arms and held him tight. I’d lost my nan. I loved her more than anyone on this earth. My only consolation was that she’d lived a full life. She’d had so many great years and she’d died happy. But Monroe could never say that about his son. He was just a kid when he’d died, stolen from this world in a boating accident, the same one that had claimed his wife’s life too. His family had been ripped in half. His heart must have been shattered.
Then along came his daughter’s friend—or boyfriend, if I had it right— and published a podcast on how his wife’s company went bust. Every episode pulled apart her business and its collapse after she was gone. That was some cold-hearted shit.
I should have been there for Cara too. I should have checked on her and made sure she knew it was all bullshit. She was beautiful. I loved her curves. I loved everything about her. But instead of telling Cara that, I’d ripped into Roe, itching for a fight, and I’d ignored her.
They mattered more to me than was sane after such a short period of time and yet, I’d treated them worse than I’d ever treated anyone.
I’d spent the rest of the day regretting every one of my life decisions and I’d worked myself up so fucking much that I was a mess on the ice.
Gauthier spoke again, pulling me out of my spiral of self-recrimination. “Yes, fuck ’em. I know you well enough to know that you’d never do the dirty on Minns. He and Kam hurt youby not coming forward and telling the truth of what you were to them.”
I snapped my face up to look into his eyes. He really did know about us. I opened my mouth, knowing I should say something but unsure of what. Should I deny we were together? Should I say they hadn’t hurt me? I was sick of lying, but it wasn’t my secret to tell. I couldn’t break Minns’s confidence, and I was the one left picking up the pieces. Gauthier had either guessed or he’d been told what went down. Either way, he had nailed it. Every word he’d spoken was true. They had hurt me. They had done the wrong thing by me. But I’d known the score from the beginning. It was never serious for them. I was their piece on the side, the way to safely satisfy a kink that they shared without risking exposure. I outlived my usefulness when I was busted.
Gauthier continued while I was still trying to come up with something to say. “But Cara isn’t like that, and from what I’ve seen, neither is Monroe.”
I stumbled back, catching myself before I fell on my ass. “What about Roe?”
Gauthier’s smile was patient, but even though he was explaining things to me like I was a child, he wasn’t patronizing. “I’ve seen him with Cara. A blind man could see that he’s interested in her too,” he said gently. “Is that what’s happening?”
As much as I wanted to burst free of the closet keeping me constrained, I couldn’t do it. Not now, not when I’d already caused enough trouble for everyone, and especially not without speaking to Roe first. There was something between us—well, there had been before I ended it.
Instead, I muttered, “Yeah, exactly. Walking PR disaster.” I huffed and shook my head, turning away from Gauthier. I couldn’t look at him anymore.
“Hux, you aren’t going to get traded. I’ve spoken to Coach. He’s pissed because he hates any negative publicity. But he alsoknows you’re the glue holding this line together. Look at tonight. You had an off night and we sucked.”
He’d shocked me stupid twice in the space of as many minutes. “I’m not the glue, Gauthier. I’m anything but. That’s you and Hewitt.”
“Hewitt’s the solid one. He’s reliable and dependable. I’m fast. But you’re the risk taker. The one who sets up the plays. You’re three steps ahead of every play. You make sure the puck gets to where we need it to be. You have flair and this innate sense of what’s coming.” He smiled sadly at me. “They did a number on you, didn’t they? When I met you, you reminded me of me. We were cocky shits.” He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “But you’re struggling with your confidence now, aren’t you?”
