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“Sounds like he’s got plenty.”
“Oh, don’t give me that whiny bullshit. If you lose him, that’s all on you.”
Lose him. Do I still have him? Did I ever?
“You’re in love with him, too.” It comes out as a statement, not a question. Because that is what this fury is about. He loves TJ. TJ loves me.
“Too? So you do love him?”
I swallow and nod.
“Then why the hell haven’t you told him that?”
“Things are…I don’t know…. complicated.”
Fynn groans and retreats to the kitchen. Has TJ told Fynn about his desire for all of us to be together? Have they done more than talk on the phone? Do I even want to know that?
I swallow and exhale. Making a show of looking at the contract in front of me, unable to process a single word of it.
“Have you seen him?”
“No.”
Relief washes over me, and I’m sure it’s visible to Fynn. No physical contact. No sex. Nothing without me. So far.
“He asked me to come to a game…but…”
I look up at him. “But?”
“Well, they are playing like crap and I don’t want to be a distraction,” he pauses. “You’re invited too.”
I’m invited too. Oh yay.
“It doesn’t look like they are going to make it to the next round. Their head coach even made them all stay together in Denver…. treat the home games like road games.”
I don’t understand any of that, but Fynn does. And Fynn knows about it. Fynn knows everything going on in his life. I don’t know a damn thing. He sent his trainer to see me. I don’t know why I even conceded to see her. She told me I’m fine, physically. Well, I don’t feel fucking fine.
I know deep down she’s right. I got pissed at him for sending her. That gave me yet another excuse to increase my distance from him. Seems my desire to push him away succeeded.
I knew he wouldn’t stick around. Proves my point. He was never in this for the long haul. I keep trying to tell myself that, and even the voice inside my head is telling me I’m full of shit. If he is really gone, that’s on me. If he ends up in Fynn’s arms…that’s also on me.
Chapter thirty-nine
Game Misconduct
Years. It’s been years since I’ve had one of those. I toss my gloves across the dressing room and turn to fall down onto the bench and scream. Tears prick the backs of my eyes.
Fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUUCK!!
The season is over. In seven goddamn minutes, the season will be over. Number one damn team in the West and we get swept by the damn wild card team.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’ve never had a season like this. My entire career from pee wee to high school, college, pros…never. Maybe it has all come too easily to me. I’ve worked for it, but maybe the Universe decided I needed a wakeup call this year. Let’s throw every damn curveball we can think of at him and see what happens. Let’s break him.
“This isn’t all on you, you know.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “You should know better than to make a statement like that right now.”
