Whatever Happens Next (Triplets Book 2)

by Stacy Lane

  It was time to come clean. To move forward, I had to dispose of the pile of secrets I kept from my brothers over the past two years. Every time we spoke or saw one another, I itched to drop a load of truth on them. The difficulty in hiding something from them was unprecedented. We always told each other everything. Sometimes too much. A lot of times it’s near impossible to hide anything at all.

  “I lied to you all after my accident.”

  Brooks and Cam share confused looks. I love them, they are my best friends, and the guilt clenching my stomach right now is well deserved.

  I regret not going to them in my dark days. They would have brought me out of it quicker than anyone. I could see that alternate ending so clearly. Brooks would have nagged my ass daily, not letting up until I got better. Cam would have let me continue to sulk, drink, sleep all day, and skip physical therapy. I would do as I pleased, but only for so long before he whipped my ass into gear.

  But then, would have I been led to Chelsea in time? I think about all the coincidences of timing and being in the right place when you least expect it. It makes the hardships seem less harsh with my ending finding its way to her.

  “How’d you lie? We were with you when it happened,” Brooks asks.

  Cam pops a peanut in his mouth, waiting with rapt attention.

  I didn’t fear their ridicule or anger. I was more concerned about how I let them down.

  “I told you guys, and Mom and Dad, that I was healing and staying on top of physical therapy and moving on when none of that was happening. I drank—heavily—with my medication. I never left the house. I trashed a lot of shit I collected throughout my career. It was rough, and I didn’t want any of you to see me like that.”

  Brooks stares at me with disbelief.

  Cam wiped a hand through his hair. “We should have been there. No matter what you said, we should have shown up for you.”

  “No, do not put this on your shoulders. I did it to myself.”

  “Are you good?” Brooks peers at all the liquor lining the shelves behind the bar. “Or is it something you still battle?”

  “I was depressed and wallowing in self-pity, not an addict.” Confessing that even now is painful. I’m thankful an addiction never progressed.

  “What made you clean up the act? The job?” Cam asks.

  He may not have known all the details, but he was the one to sense I needed a change. To move closer to family and get back into the game.

  “Kinda.” I run my sweaty palms up and down my navy blue shorts. “My mental state wasn’t the only thing I kept from you. I took Elle back.”

  Brooks curses. Cam throws a peanut at my head.

  “I hope for your sake, if you tell Mom and Dad this story, you end it before the mention of her name.” Cam throws another nut, this one smacking me on the cheek.

  My parents harped on us all the time about settling down. From the first introduction to Elle, they did not hold back with all the reasons they disapproved. And their approval was something I cared about. Which is why my ego took such a hit when she dumped me at the hospital. Everyone was right about her.

  “I didn’t take her back because I thought myself in love with her. The scheme was crueler than that, and believe me, even she didn’t deserve the crap I put her through.” I was angry and took it out on her. Whenever Chelsea shared the bullshit she went through with Vic, half the reason I was so pissed is that I was no better than him. Not now, but with Elle, I was no better. “You wouldn’t have recognized the man I turned into. I was filled with hate—for no longer having my career and for her walking out on me when I needed her the most. I knew her game when she came back. I was still wealthy, I had my legs, and she believed I would play again. She really loved it when I got the GM offer.”

  “She’s the reason you were traveling back and forth so much. Why you wouldn’t permanently move down here with us,” Cam says.

  I nod. “At first, I didn’t want the job.”

  Cam’s expression falls, and I feel the drop replicated in my gut.

  “But this job turned out to be the best thing that could ever happen,” I say, reaching a hand out for his shoulder. “I took it to make you guys happy. You wanted me here with you, but I was afraid you’d find out all the secrets I had been keeping. Then I got a taste of the draft. I was back in, and it revived me. I thought I would only enjoy it if I were able to play, but I’m good at this manager stuff. You’ll see.”

  “You have nothing to prove to us, Alex,” Brooks says. “We’ve always believed in you.”

  “So you dumped Elle before moving?” Cam asks.

  “Kinda.”

  “It’s proving not to turn out well when you answer with ‘kinda.’” Cam digs out another peanut from the bowl on the table.

  “Throw a third one at me, and I’ll kick your ass,” I say. My brothers’ grin. “Before I decided whether I was taking the job or not, I had made the decision to end it with her. She knew it was coming and found a way to keep me.”

  “Jesus, this doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’m still voting we don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

  “Agreed,” Brooks and I say with aggressive nods.

  “Elle said she was pregnant. I had no reason to question her when she showed me a sonogram and experienced terrible morning sickness. I called her doctor to see if there was something I could give her for nausea. They had no records of her coming in for an exam.”

  “Fucking bitch,” Brooks seethed.

  “She faked the whole thing. I kicked her out and got on a plane to Florida.” I held a peanut between my fingers, smiling when I finished, “That’s the night I fell into bed with Chelsea.”

  “Aww, I think he’s blushing,” Brooks chuckles. I throw the peanut at him.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket.

  “I’m all for you and Chels,” Cam says. “But what about your job? The contract states…”

  Leaning to the side, I retrieve my cell. “I fixed that. Kinda.”

  “Fucking hell, Alex, stop saying kinda,” Brooks grumbles.

  “I’d give it up for her in a heartbeat if it comes to that.”

  They gape at me like I’m insane. Maybe I am. Hockey used to be my everything. Perspectives change.

  The irony in the timing of my words could not have been more fated. A text from Marcus informs me one of my player’s needed to speak with me urgently. “Quite rude” and insisted on being told where to find me.

  Marcus knew my whereabouts, even on a Sunday. He was with Chelsea, helping her finish the final room in my house.

  Me: Did Chelsea overhear the phone call?

  Marcus: No. I told him you could meet him at the office at the arena, but he was adamant about it being right now. I told him where you were. Hope that was okay. I just thought you would rather deal with that than him showing up here while she’s home.

  Me: You were right. Thank you.

  Eyebrows furrowing, I slip my phone away again.

  “That’s the look I’m coming to know as the boss face,” Brooks jokes, but it doesn’t lighten my mood.

  “We’re about to have company.”

  Their shoulders draw back, sitting up straighter.

  “Who?”

  I stare at the front doors, a gleaming white line of sunlight slipping through the crack. “Victor Matthias.”

  • • •

  I KNEW DEEP down him showing up at the bar, mid-morning, when most guys were still out of town for the off-season, had something to do with me dating his ex-wife. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but here we are.

  If I were in his shoes, I’d be a little pissed. It wasn’t about Chelsea moving on, but more of who she moved on with. We’re athletes. We’re hotheaded and territorial. It would be his boss he’s going to see walking around with his ex. Unconventional, to say the least.

  My brothers and I remained in our seats. I shot Colt a quick text. He would have let me know the second he heard something, but I asked anyway if Vic o
r his agent contacted anyone regarding claims to a breach of contract. Now that I was deeply in this, I thought the clause was a bit over dramatic considering how easy it had been to clear myself of any repercussions.

  A form. One fucking form was all I had to sign to waive any infractions.

  If Vic was about to storm in here like I guessed him to, then it’s possible he knows he can do nothing about it now.

  I held high assumptions Vic would react like a jerk. I was pissed more than anything I couldn’t cut him out of Chelsea’s life here in Tampa for good. I’ve searched high and low, trying to find a loophole in the paperwork.

  But it was the cost of pulling the trigger in my new role as general manager that could fuck me up. The Fury’s budget was in shambles. If I want Vic gone, it was going to take a large sum. So if he and I could settle this today, that’d be great.

  I wasn’t holding my breath though.

  Chelsea has said more than once, That’s not Vic.

  Maybe he’ll ignore us. That’s not Vic.

  Maybe he’ll see that you’re happy and be happy for you. That’s not Vic.

  He’s selfish enough to hate that she’s happy. Even when he was the one who wanted out bad enough he took the cowards way by cheating.

  I would never shove our relationship in his face. I don’t have to. She’s not some trophy to flaunt in front of him. Chelsea’s unbelievably a prize, but she’s one to be earned without expecting a reward.

  And I’ll be damned if I let him chip away what she’s worked so hard at rebuilding after him.

  Had Vic walked in Triplets today with a speckle of decorum, my reactions later on would have turned out differently.

  The door flew wide. Striking sunlight shaded the faces of the three bodies entering the front of the bar. Once he spotted me, Vic strode across the desolate floor. Eddie and Marc followed right behind.

  Brooks stood from the booth to face his teammates. “Think carefully before you do or say anything, Vic.”

  He’s my brother and if sides had to be drawn I knew without hesitation Brooks would take mine. But Vic was also a brother of sorts. They may disagree or dislike one another, but most of them put it aside for their team. Brooks befriended Vic early on in his first season with the Fury. The coach played them on the same line often. But the more he hung around Vic, Brooks began to see another side to his vain personality. A lot of the guys did. Which is why seeing Marc arrive with Vic surprised me.

  Eddie scowled, revealing where his loyalties lay.

  “I had plans to wax the floors later anyway. So no complaints from me if Alex wants to spill a little blood.” Cam folds his arms, shooting the other three a cocky grin.

  Marc shakes his head, stepping off to the side. “Nope. I’m not here for that. I happened to be with this imbecile while Eddie was fanning the flame.”

  “I only told him the truth. What everyone else was hiding from him.” Eddie glared between Marc and me.

  Marc Laurent was in town, cutting his vacation early since I re-signed him to an extended seven-year deal on Friday.

  “There won’t be any fighting.” I join Brooks’s right, face to face with Vic. “I know why you’re here, so say what you want.”

  “What kind of manager are you? Sneaking around with a player’s wife!” Vic’s spittle tacks onto Cam’s unclean floors.

  “Ex-wife,” I remind him.

  I once was well known for keeping my cool in galling situations. I wasn’t a bruiser on the rink, and the best prodders liked to single me out in the attempt to get under my thick skin. The most I’ve ever reacted was following my injury. Then I put the suits back on and walked inside the arena. My shit was locked down once again.

  But standing nose to nose with Chelsea’s ex-husband was about to break a new record.

  “She’s not supposed to be here. End it.” Vic threw out the order as if he commands an army of soldiers.

  I’m the motherfucking general.

  “I don’t take orders from you. And neither does Chelsea. Not anymore.”

  Vic’s mouth widens in an unsettling grin. “I have ten years of experience with Chelsea. She’s transparent. Tell me, how’s her little business going? Must be awfully hard to get good paying clients in this town.”

  I step toward him. Brooks throws out his arm.

  “You’re behind that.”

  All her trouble. The new people stringing her along, or ripping away her confidence with their negativity. The woman who didn’t pay the agreed upon amount. The fucking prick who thought he could pay with sex.

  “She’s so easy to manipulate. Does she really believe she has the skills to run her own company? I sent those people to remind her how diluted her dreams are. It’s a matter of time before she gives up on it. Tampa is my home, and I don’t want her here. She needs to go back to Vancouver and stay there.”

  Brooks’s arm fell away. He glared at Vic with disgust. Marc, the human body of neutrality, shook with new disrespect for his teammate.

  On an impulse I could no longer restrain, my arms flew out, pushing into Vic’s solid chest and shoving him backward. Eddie jumped into action, but Marc stayed right where he was. Without intervening, except to hold Eddie back, my brothers stood resigned.

  Throwing fists did not solve problems. As a matter of fact, I lectured Brooks on the stupidity of the brawl he got into a few months back in Vegas. Fighting Vic would do more harm than good. I’m paying millions for this dirtbag to play hockey.

  So no, breaking his bones would solve nothing.

  Then again, hockey players suit up with full face shields when necessary.

  I shoved Vic into the nearest high top table. The stools flipped upside down on the tabletops, crashed to the ground. A snap of a wooden leg joined the commotion.

  “Did you send Leon?” I seethed, fist clenching. It took some persuading, but I finally got Chelsea to give me the name of the man who harassed her.

  I paid that asshole a visit. He wasn’t on my payroll, so I made sure to leave him with one broken bone.

  Vic tried straightening to his full height. With another push, I made sure he wasn’t getting any advantage on me.

  “Be more specific. I know a lot of people,” he replied.

  “Leon. The son of a bitch who thought Chelsea was taking sexual favors as payment because she was working on my house.”

  Vic’s eyes darkened. “I want her gone badly, but I wouldn’t do it like that.”

  “Not sure why I asked since I don’t believe you.”

  His gaze slid beyond me. “I didn’t hear about you and Chelsea until this morning.”

  Following his void glare, I caught the shifty gaze of Eddie.

  “Soccer fan, Eddie?” I ask, keeping Vic jammed to the table with one hand.

  Eddie’s back stiffened. “I was looking out for my teammate. His wife—”

  “Ex-wife and if I hear another fucking person refer to Chelsea as anything but her own person or my woman, I will break some fucking jaws and ask for forgiveness later. Right now, in this bar, you are not teammates or friends, and I am not your boss. I’m only going to say this once. Chelsea is not going anywhere. You will call off your dogs and leave her the hell alone.”

  “You’re just as delusional as her if you think I won’t get you fired over this.”

  “Over what? She and I started dating after your divorce.”

  “That’s a lie and you and I both know it.”

  “You’re the dumb one if you think I haven’t thought about all the angles you would have come at me with.”

  “I will not fucking play for you.”

  “By all means, leave. Take the hit. You’d be making my job easier.” I let him go, stepping back. “Leave Chelsea alone.”

  “Fool,” Vic laughs with an evil gleam. “She’s not worth throwing your career away.”

  “That’s where you fucked up. Because she’s worth everything.”

  Silence greeted the bar as Vic and Eddie left in a fiery storm the
same way they came in.

  Marc leaned against a booth, toothpick in his mouth. “Dick.”

  “Where’re you going?” Brooks turned as I walked in the opposite direction.

  I parked around back. And now I had a new agenda.

  “To see Kendricks,” I reply, not stopping in my stride to leave.

  “But I thought you already—”

  I cut Cam off. “I did. Things have changed.”

  CHAPTER 26

  CHELSEA

  MY LAST BIG client just pulled out. And with no explanation.

  I had small jobs lined up, but without the larger projects—mainly the ones involving renos—I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay rent in a couple months. Addy floated me the cash when I moved back, but only for the first two months. It was all I allowed her to give. Enough of a head start to save up from my new business.

  I thought I was fortunate and the good word was spreading about me when clients began to pour in. But my damn bucket must have a leak because they are dropping through as fast as they came.

  To make it worse, Alex has ignored me for a few days. We didn’t spend every night together, but I got used to seeing him a lot while working on his house and we definitely spoke every day on the phone. And lots of cutesie texts. Lots of horny texts.

  I worried I was overwhelming him. Being around as much as I was during the redesign, using his assistant, throwing together a party for my family. Maybe I’m a bit too much.

  I’m extra…but no dammit. He likes my bougie ass!

  Not once has he shown that I’m too much to handle. His low-key personality complements my high maintenance self. I will not let old doubts creep in on what I have with Alex.

  Okay, they will creep in regardless, but I am going to be standing there with a hockey stick, ready to slap shot them away.

  Afraid to be left alone with my work troubles, I seek out my best friend.

  Jo and Brooks are at Triplets. I asked if Alex was with them, which received a skeptical reply. It wasn’t until I was sitting at the bar with them, and Cam on the other side, that I let a puck of doubt sneak past me.