Page 40 of Face Off

“Yeah, man. You’ve lived pretty frugally for a reason. I know you have money.” Lance raised a brow.

Okay, fine. Money wasn’t an issue, and according to my investment portfolio, it likely never would be, but that wasn’t the point. “Playing hockey has been my whole world for twenty-five years. I literally don’t have memories before hockey. How am I just supposed to let it go?”

“You aren’t giving up or quitting. You’re respecting your body,” Parker countered. “You don’t want to leave because you have to. You don’t want to get to the point that you have an injury or pain that lasts forever because you weren’t ready to call it when you should have. We’ll all have a time when we need to leave. This might be yours.”

I really didn’t like how right he was. I didn’t want to have some sort of chronic injury or pain from a bad hit or pushing myself longer than I should. I also didn’t want to go out because I was being forced. I wanted to leave on my terms and with my pride intact. Wasn’t that what the greats did? Left while they were still on the top?

“I don’t know, guys. I thought I had another five years before I had to think about this stuff.”

“I know, man. We all think that, but life happens, and we have to adjust,” Lance said with more wisdom than he normally displayed.

I nodded. They were trying to help, and eventually, I’d appreciate their words, but it was too raw right now.

“Are you doing deadlifts?” I asked Lance since Mitch was moving under the bar to start a new set.

“Yeah.” We stepped to the next platform, and Lance added weight to the bar. “How’s Holly doing?”

I froze, confused by the random question. “What do you mean?”

“Parker saw you two sitting and talking in the garage,” he said as he bent his knees and rolled his shoulders.

I glared at Parker until he felt the heat of my gaze and glanced over. “What?”

“What did you see?” If he saw the meltdown I had before Holly came over, I was going to have to retire and move far away based on principle. I didn’t like showing my emotions, especially to my teammates. I worked hard at being perceived as the jokester. The player that let everything slide. I was easygoing. Funny.

Not someone that loses it in public.

“Just you and Holly sitting on the ground, talking. I forgot my gloves in my car and had to get them.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t hear anything or see anything else. I swear.”

I shook my head. “I was just telling her about the meeting.”

Lance nodded. “So you’re confiding in her now?”

“She was just kind of there.”

“And you just kind of stayed and told her everything?” He smirked.

“She’s easy to talk to.” My defense was lame, and they all knew it.

“What are you doing?” Mitch stepped forward, finished with his set.

Parker moved to the sides and changed the weight.

“What do you mean?” I crossed my arms.

“What are you doing with her? Do you like her? Do you want to date her?” He eyed me like he was sizing me up.

“Can’t we just be friends?”

“If you make that clear, then yes,” he bit back.

I stepped forward. “I’m not leading her on.”

“You played with her kid,” Lance countered.

“And shared your emotions,” Parker added.

“As friends do.” I glared at them.