Page 12 of Heartbreak Hockey


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Damn her for using my own logic against me.

We hashed out some of the finer details, like who would stay with whom while I was away. We also voted that Bryce would need to become an official Meyer elder. He’s only just had his eighteenth birthday, but we’re going to need him. Besides, we were younger than he was when we had to grow up; it’s the unfortunate reality of survival in our family. It’d do us no good to have one of us three wear ourselves into a heart attack when we could draft another from the Meyer farm team.

Bea had to go after that, which left me, my brother, a second pint each, and the wings we’d ordered.

Ari leveled me with a look. “The last time, all that drinking and debauchery, it wasn’t you, Merc. I know why you did it.”

“Last time” refers to my failed coaching career, of course. Just what I love talking about. That would be another thing I’d have to face if I took this coaching job … my last coaching job, which until that Monday I believed would be mylastcoaching job.

“I love drinking and debauchery most of all, Ari.”

He took a healthy swig of his beer. “Yeah, but you’re more adult about it now. You drink socially and when you work on your bike … because of all those books you read, eh?”

The books and podcasts. It’s what the people who can’t afford therapy do. I don’t temporarily numb my pain with destructive activities anymore.

“I get plenty drunk when I want to.” I took a hearty swig of my beer for good measure.

Could I do it?I flipped around the image of me on the ice with a group of men. I could feel the chill air of the arena calling to me, dragging me back. Thescuff scuffof ice skates and theslapof stick against puck. I could meditate to those sounds.

“I know that look,” he said.Confident fuck. “First, we get you back to hockey. Then maybe we can find you a second love.”

He meant a man and that’s a hard no. All my love is for hockey and my family and no man I’ve ever been with understands that. He wants to come first. Not that I blame anyone for that expectation, it’s a fine expectation to have from a relationship. Reasonable even. It’s what I drill into the kids: Find someone who puts you first.

I just didn’t see myself finding anyone that I’d love enough to put first.

I don’t like hurting these men I’ve been with, but it happens every time despite me having always been upfront about my “family comes first” policy. Now, I don’t bother. If I don’t involve myself beyond sex, I minimize collateral.

“On that note, I think we’re done here,” I said, standing and homing in on my conquest for the night. I polished off the rest of my beer and patted him on one of his round shoulders, breaking the news to him. “You’re paying. Thanks, eh?”

The way his face morphed from smug to outraged? Worth it. I’d have to tell Bethany, my own personal mini-me, later.

“Hey!” he complained but backed down quickly. As much as I wanted to pursue my dreams and shit, leaving wasn’t going to be easy for me and I saw that understanding on his face as he came to the conclusion that he did owe me two pints of Canadian and a half pound of hot wings for my sacrifices.

Plus, I would have to break the news to Theo. Lorelei’s too much like Bea, I knew she would only cheer me on. Bethany’s too much like me and would rather die than let anybody think she needs anything from anyone. She’ll never admit to needing her big brother around. Theo’s a love bug like Ari and while Ari might have the emotional maturity at thirty-four to encourage me to do what needs to be done, it would be him and Theo clinging to each other at the airport.

Which is what happened, but I’ll get to that.

I laid my hand on the bar top beside the blond cutie I’d spied earlier.Do not feast on lambs—that’s what my father would say, but I’m my mother’s son. He sure was pretty though. If I were ever to keep one, he’d be big and pretty.

And like Metallica.

I pressed myself against the leather of his jacket, the sweet-earth scent filled my nostrils—why does leather smell so damn soothing?—and whispered in his ear. “What you doing here alone, eh? A wolf could eat you up.”

I made sure my voice rasped and grated over each word. It worked. He shivered beneath me. His blond hair was old-style, a cowlick like James Dean, which was intriguing in and of itself because the kid couldn’t have been a day over twenty-four. He probably didn’t know who James Dean was.

His head turned.

Until that moment, I hadn’t caught sight of his face. When I did, our eyes locked—my blue with his green.

You know how they say all that bullshit about eyes being the windows of the soul? And further to that, when they say you can recognize something of yourself in another set of eyes? And even more bullshit about how that’s what results in the gut-dropping sensation of an instant connection?

Well, I recognized something terrifying there and I knew what it was, but like a fucking train wreck, I couldn’t pull my eyes from him. It was like looking over the ledge of a ninety-thousand-foot building and fighting the curious whispers telling you to jump just to see what it was like.

His eyes were tragic spheres of jade. His face held the remnants of a room that used to be filled with sunshine but had been left too long without joy and the shadows had taken over. He was too young to have lines on his face, but it was easy to envision how he would smile.

Except I didn’t think he did anymore.

I know my lot in life. I’m the grumpy side of any sunshine and grump trope in every Hallmark movie ever made. A guy like him was supposed to be the sunshine.