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I pick up one of Maddison’s frilly throw pillows and chuck it at his head, which he deftly ducks, the pillow hitting the wall behind him.
“Exactly,” Chaney interjects. “You’re not going to say shit, and clearly, she isn’t either because Coach Evans hasn’t found you and strung you up by your balls. She’s not telling him. So, play it cool. Dude, sex is a form of self-expression. Be. Cool.”
I’m getting lectured by a kid that’s barely out of his teenage years who’s knitting on the couch like my ninety-year-old grandmother. This is the shit that I have to deal with. But heisbasically Caroline’s age, so maybe Ishouldlisten to him for once.
“He’s right though,” Reed says, finally pausing the incessant pacing. “Keep your head down, and for the love of god, Hudson, leave her the fuck alone. You fucked up, alright? It is what it is, and yeah, you didn’t know, but this is your career. If he finds out, he’s going to make your life hell, or worse, he’s gonna try for a trade. You know it. We know it.”
“I know that. Fuck, I know,” I say.
“So no matter what you feel about her, no matter how bad you want to… you have to stay away from her. You can’t go there again,” Reed finishes.
“Gonna be kinda hard when Coach has her working at Face-Off. Apparently, she’s doing her sports med internship there.”
Briggs whistles. “Damn. Then, just be professional. Treat her like you would anyone else you work with there.”
I nod.
I know they’re right, and I’d be out of my fucking mind if I thought about her in any sense that isn’t strictly platonic ever again. Hockey is all I have, and even though I’m trying to find who I am outside of that, it’s been my life for so long that I can’t risk losing everything I’ve worked for. It’s too late in my career to jeopardize the years I have left.
From here on out, Caroline Evans is off-limits.
I just have to get my head… and my dick… on board with that.
5
CAROLINE
“Why are there boys here? I thought thiswasn’ta co-ed house, Caroline?” my father mutters, his gaze narrowing as a guy in a bright white linen polo passes by carrying a cardboard box. “You know I wouldn’t have agreed to this… I would’ve gotten you an off-campus apartment. Boys a—”
“Dad.” I cut him off from the spiral that he’s very much already going down. I can see the vein in his neck bulging as he turns a shade of red that means his blood pressure is already flying through the roof. “Dad. Take a breath, okay? In… and out.”
Since the moment I arrived in Chicago two months ago, my father has been hovering. And by hovering, I mean completely suffocating me.
I know that he means well and that he’s overcompensating for all of the time that he’s missed. We’re both navigating this rocky, foreign territory as best we can, and that’s why I get it. I do. I think, in his head, I’m still the little girl he left behind. But that little girl is gone, and I’m a grown woman now.
Reaching out, I place my hand on his arm and swear that I can feel him shaking, “Itisn’ta co-ed sorority house, Dad. I’m pretty sure he’s just someone’s boyfriend helping move. Calm down, okay? You know the doctor said you need to work on lowering your blood pressure, and you can’t have a fit every time something happens or, god forbid, I’m near a man. I’m not a little girl anymore, okay?”
His eyes soften slightly, and a small smile turns his lips up, “Care Bear, you’llalwaysbe my little girl. Doesn’t matter how old you get. I can’t help it. I just want you to be safe, and I’m nervous, is all. Chicago is a big city, and I hate that you’ll be here all alone.”
I notice in the sunlight shining through the high arched windows just how much my dad has aged. His dark hair is now peppered with gray, the corners of his eyes crinkled with lines that weren’t there the last time I saw him. It’s a reminder of how much has changed since we were together last.
I nod. “I know, but I won’t be alone. I have a roommate, remember? I promise I’ll be okay, but I need to know that you’re not going to have an aneurysm if I don’t answer my phone, Dad. I’m going to be swamped with classes and attempting to meet new people on campus.”
The truth is I had no intention of ever leaving Seattle, and certainly not switching colleges halfway through my college career, but my dad called me toward the end of my sophomore year and told me that he had a mild heart attack, and it was a wake-up call for the both of us.
He moved across the country when I was twelve to coach an NHL team after he and my mom got divorced. Our interactions went from nightly phone calls to once a week to birthdays and holidays. We grew apart like the tides, and for a long time, I was heartbroken.
And angry.
Part of me still is.
But I realized that we were both to blame for the wedge that formed between us, and when he called to tell me that he was sick, the rest didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the harsh reality that life is short and never promised. At any given moment, he could be gone, and then I’d be left with a lifetime of regret that we didn’t at least try to fix our relationship.
It still doesn’t change the fact that we’re virtually strangers who share the same blood. He remembers me as an awkward preteen, and I remember him as the man who divorced my mother and cared more about hockey than his family.
Even if it wasn’t true, I spent the majority of my life believing that. And it broke my heart and left me doing a lot of therapy and healing over the years to get to the point I’m at today.
