by M. E. Carter
Just a few minutes after I hit send, I get her response.
Ellery: I am a-ok, sexy Liiiiiiiiam. ;)
Chuckling to myself, I click off the screen and return to my friend. Turns out all I needed to fix my bad mood was to hang out with a funny brunette accountant who had one too many Amaretto Sours.
I can’t wait to do it again.
Chapter Five
Ellery
I cannot believe I tried to seduce a stranger into having a one-night stand.
Kevin’s breakup declaration was barely out of his mouth and I was off propositioning someone else. That’s not me! I should be grieving over the loss of the love of my life. Pining over a relationship gone wrong. Eating ice cream in front of Lifetime Movies and Mysteries while I wonder where my life went off the rails.
But no. I was galivanting around town, hitting on strangers.
Yes, it was two days ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it and berating myself for my own indiscretions. I’m not the kind of person who can just sleep with someone willy-nilly like that and be okay with myself in the morning. I’m an accountant for goodness sake. I like order and spreadsheets and wear suits and eat brunch with my parents and watch laugh-track comedies and… and…
And holy cow, was that man sexy.
Liam. That was his name and it fit him. After years spent with the men’s gymnastics team who aren’t known for their height, his was a shock to me. He was huge. His broad shoulders screamed strength and power. His thighs were like tree trunks in his snug jeans. But his smile. It was electric. It was that look combined with his humor that lowered my defenses.
Well, that and three Amaretto Sours back-to-back on an empty and emotional stomach.
As much as I wanted to stay and drink more, I’m glad Liam put me in that Uber and sent me home. Not only can I not guarantee I wouldn’t have made an even bigger fool of myself, but it’s also the only reason I made it through the next workday. Even if I’ve been distracted all day by thoughts of the sexy man I propositioned.
My phone buzzes, startling me from the memories. Good. I don’t need to be thinking about these things anyway. I’m at work and I am a professional. I should be focusing on the Smithers account and my final review of their quarterly taxes before filing.
Instead, I slide my screen open and notice a text from an unknown number. The Smithers account is immediately forgotten.
Could it be him again?
No. It couldn’t be. He texted me once to make sure I got home okay and I’m sure my inappropriate response will keep him from ever using my number again. I feel a flush of warmth rush through me remembering the embarrassment as I read that exchange with sober eyes. I’m sure he thought I was some blithering, immature idiot.
It doesn’t matter anyway. I should be thinking about Kevin. Why am I not thinking about Kevin? The man I spent seven years with. The one who shattered my heart into a million pieces mere days ago. If I’m going to be ignoring my job and thinking about any man, that’s who I should be thinking about. Right? What does that say about me if I can push him aside so easily?
Still, what if the message is from Liam?
If I don’t read it, it’s just going to drive me crazy and then I’ll never get any work done. Quickly I open it before I change my mind.
Hey, Ellery. It’s Lauren from college! Kiersten said she ran into you and gave me your number. Glad to know you’re around! Was hoping you’d like to meet us at the bar again tonight to catch up. Annika will be there. Remember her? Amaretto Sours are on me! Lol
I can’t believe Kiersten told her about the drinks. I’d be slightly embarrassed except it’s Lauren texting me. Back in college, she had no inhibitions whatsoever. Even when the rest of the team hated her for it, she didn’t care.
I always admired that about her. Maybe that’s why I always forced her to be my friend on the team. Not besties but someone to hang around during our downtime. I was hoping that confidence would rub off on me. It didn’t, but at least I had someone to talk to.
Lifting my thumbs to reply, I glance up when someone knocks on the door of my office.
Unexpectedly, Kevin pops his head in. “Hey Ellery. Just wanted to see…” He pauses, taking in my appearance. “What happened to your hair?”
Any butterflies in my stomach that may have been taking flight at his unexpected presence immediately die a quick death.
I clear my throat and sit up straight, placing my phone face down on my desk.
“I’m told this version of lavender gray is very trendy right now.”
For whatever reason, I decided to dye my hair last night. Probably because this is my first ever breakup and I just couldn’t not do it. I mixed something wrong though, although I’m still not sure what, and I was mortified when I took the towel off and discovered it didn’t turn my hair Blonde Bombshell like the box promised.
“By who?” Kevin asks as he pushes his way into my office, sans invitation.
“Zendaya. Ariana Grande. Various Kardashians.”
I flick my wrist like I have any idea what I’m talking about but it’s a ruse.
In my google search to figure out how to fix my mistake, I discovered two things. One, any more treatment would probably make my hair fall out and two, I got lucky because this color is really stylish. Which didn’t make me feel that much better because I’m not a fashionista at all, but at least no one walking down the street has looked at me like I came straight from the circus. And if Kevin decides to google it later, he’ll see I’m not wrong.
“What are you doing here, Kevin?” I ask, hoping to distract him from any more talk about my hair.
Misinterpreting my question as an invitation to stay awhile, Kevin sits in the chair across from my desk and leans back, adjusting the badge on his lanyard.
As an inspector for the health department, Kevin makes his rounds to the various salons in the area, making sure all the supplies are stored appropriately and cleaning records are kept. Once he had to follow up on a complaint about a local nail salon not properly cleaning their tools which led to an outbreak of a nasty toe fungus. He was really excited about that project. All I learned is I prefer to do my own pedicures.
“I got done with my last inspection early so I thought I’d come check on you before I go to lunch. See how you’re doing since… well, you know.”
I smile shyly, appreciating that he still has some concern for me in spite of breaking, er, maybe just bruising my heart. “Thank you for asking but I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Because your hair…”
I bristle and pat my chignon again, a little miffed he brought it up again. “It’s fashionable and the color many women pay hundreds of dollars to achieve.”
Thankfully, he has the wherewithal to look regretful over his choice of words. “You’re right. It’s just going to take me some time to get used to.”
He’s not the only one, but in the interest of self-preservation, I keep that thought to myself.
“I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Ellery. You’re still my best friend.”
My lips tilt up into a soft smile. This should be more painful than it is and I can’t figure out why. Was he right all along? Would we be better off as friends? It’s going to take some getting used to, but maybe once I get used to the new normal, we’ll be okay.
I swallow down the lump that has suddenly caught in my throat. Regardless of where we end up, we still have a long history that feels oddly hard to let go of. “You’re mine, too. We’ve been through so much together. It would be a shame to throw it all aside just because we didn’t end up together. And who knows, maybe you’ll miss me at some point and we’ll still have our happily ever after.”
His whole body language changes from the relaxed, easy-going posture he’s had since he walked in to stiff and on-edge. The vibe around him changes and I know I’ve touched on something he’s trying to keep from me.
Out of nowhere, it hits me. I know what’s happening.
Kevin
broke up with me after seven years with no indication we had any problems. No fights. No big upcoming life decisions. No issues with each other’s parents. Just suddenly one day, it was over.
And as soon as the deed was done, he had dinner plans. Plans he had made knowing I would be out of the picture.
Tilting my head to the side, I look at Kevin as he shifts in his seat like he knows I’ve figured something out.
“Kevin,” I say quietly, not sure if I’m holding back anger or tears. “Who did you go to dinner with the other night?”
Like a deer in the headlights, his eyes widen. It’s just for a second, but I see it.
“What?” he croaks out.
“After we broke up. You told me you had dinner plans. That’s why you were dressed up. Who did you eat with after breaking my heart?”
I’m figuring out that is a gross exaggeration of how the situation felt to me but now that circumstances seem to be changing, I’m not sure I care to tone it down.
Kevin swallows hard looking terrified that I’m about to jump over this desk and strangle him. I’d never do that, though. I like my job. I like being seen as a professional. I’m up for a promotion. I wouldn’t waste all that on an emotional breakdown.
The longer he delays, the higher a huge red flag goes up in my head. After seven years, maybe Kevin and I didn’t really know each other at all. Or maybe I just didn’t know him.
“I, uh…” he stumbles and fidgets with his badge. A badge I suddenly find irritating. A small man’s way of finding power. “I had a blind date.”
It feels like the bottom drops out beneath me, but I make sure not to show it.
“Your friends thought it was a good idea to set you up on a blind date when you had a girlfriend?”
He runs his hands down his jeans. They’re probably clammy all of a sudden from him fessing up to this mess. “Uh… my friends didn’t set me up.”
“Who did?”
He pauses before dropping the bombshell I didn’t see coming.
“My mother.”
I fall back in my chair, stunned. His mother. The woman I thought loved me and was looking forward to me being her daughter-in-law. The woman I looked up to as a business professional. My boss.
“That’s, uh, why she wanted me to come check on you.”
My head whips over to look at him again as he unknowingly sticks his foot in his mouth.
“She wanted to make sure you weren’t having any issues with work or whatever since we broke up.”
I hold my hands out to stop him as the pieces of the puzzle come together “Wait. Let me make sure I understand this.” I lean forward holding eye contact so he can’t lie his way out of this. I’ve always been able to read him by looking directly into his eyes. “Your mother, who has hosted me at every holiday for the last seven years, set you up with someone else before we broke up.”
“Technically we were broken up when I took her to dinner.”
“By thirty seconds. And then your mother sends you in here to check on me, not because she’s concerned about my well-being but because she wants to make sure our breakup, that she orchestrated, isn’t negatively affecting my ability to do my job.”
Kevin clears his throat uncomfortably. “She said the Smithers account is pretty important.”
I blink a few times, floored by the entire situation and wanting to kick myself. All the sacrifices I made. All the dreams I gave up. All the, the hairstyles I could have tried. But no. My life revolved around Kevin and his family. What would make them happy. What would make them comfortable. What would make them approve.
I have been Kevin’s best friend for seven years, but he’s never been mine. I’ve been a comfort to him, like a security blanket that’s always there to make him feel better. He never loved me as anything more than a child’s assurance.
Flabbergasted, I huff out a small laugh. “Get out of my office.”
My words are resolved, with no hint of malice. I don’t have the energy to be angry. Later. Later I’ll let myself feel everything, but not now. Not in front of the man whose betrayal runs deeper than I could ever imagine.
He stands, still looking unsure. “I’m really sorry Ellery.”
Turning my gaze on him, I give him more truth than I ever thought I was capable of.
“I don’t believe you. Please don’t check on me again.”
He stands frozen, obviously uncomfortable with my dismissal.
Good. He needs to be uncomfortable. He probably also needs to rot somewhere but I refuse to go that far. I may be angry. I may be hurt. I may feel these deep wounds for a long time. But I’m still me. And I refuse to change the kindness I try to extend just because I was a pawn for all those years.
Finally, he turns and walks out the door. For the first time, I hope I never see him again.
Chapter Six
Liam
Piiiiing!
I hate that sound. Especially first thing in the morning when I’m the only one here and there isn’t a goalie stopping my shots from getting where they should be—in the net, not bouncing off the damn goalposts from shitty aim.
Rotating my arm, I grimace as the pain flares through my shoulder.
“Don’t be a pussy, Tremblay,” I mutter to myself and swing again. This time the puck ends up where I want, but slower than it should.
I shake my head, cursing this fucking shoulder for still giving me grief. It’s a stupid injury. Hell, it’s not even an injury. It’s more like an old man’s body breaking down and I don’t have time for that.
I’m thirty-one years old for shit’s sake. I’m not old by anyone’s standards. Anyone except everyone in the hockey arena. And that’s the part that pisses me off. This is what could force me into retirement. I wouldn’t be the first one. The average age of calling it quits is just under thirty, but I wanted to be the exception to the rule. I wanted to be the next Zdeno Chara who is still playing in his forties. Instead, I may very well be like everyone else.
Thwack!
My stick slams the puck into the net and once again, a shooting pain runs through my shoulder.
“You gotta swing faster than that if you wanna make it back to the first line.”
I didn’t hear anyone come in, but that’s not unusual. Maintenance staff and various administrators sometimes swing through the arena on their way to work or just to let the chill of the icy room invigorate them, so I don’t notice the sound of footsteps anymore. Should have known he would find me.
“Why do you think I’m out here so early?” I quip back at my coach. I was hoping to avoid him before anyone else shows up to get some practice time in but it seems I’m out of luck these days in more ways than one.
We both watch as I whack at the puck again, still slower than I’d like but at least it goes where I want. Unlike this conversation.
“I’d say you’re avoiding getting inside the MRI machine to figure out what’s going on with that bum shoulder.”
“Fucking Harry,” I complain under my breath as I line up my shot again. But of course, Coach hears me.
“Don’t blame this one on the trainer,” Couch shouts. “You think he’s the only one who can tell you’re favoring it? I’ve got eyes. And you’re so busy trying to prove you’re not an old man, you’re letting this linger. It’s catching up to you.”
Knowing this conversation is a long time coming, I give up and skate over to the side, pulling my gloves off and using the bottom of my long-sleeve dry-fit shirt to wipe the sweat off my brow.
“You’re the coach. Of course, you notice. It’s your job to see things like that.”
He harumphs. “And you’re the player. It’s your job to make sure your body is in tip-top shape instead of this pansy-ass avoidance bullshit you’ve got going on.”
“It’s not avoidance.”
“Really? Then what is it?”
“It’s no big deal. We play with injuries all the time. I’m working through the pain.”
He nods slowly but I�
�m not convinced it’s in agreement. “Okay. I’ll bite. Let’s say it is no big deal. Then you’ve got a big problem because you’re slowing down rapidly. We’ll be forcing you into retirement sooner rather than later at this rate.”
I clench my jaw. “Is that a threat?”
“Not even close. It’s the reality of the situation.”
I look out on the ice where I’ve spent the last six years of my life. I love this place and I’m terrified it’s all going away. Men in their sixties freak out about leaving the job they’ve had most of their lives. I’m half that age.
“What would I even do with the next seventy years of my life if I don’t come here?” I mutter, maybe more to myself than him.
He shrugs. “Coach. Sit on your ass and play the stock market. Find a nice woman and settle down. There are a lot of options.”
Thoughts of a dark-haired beauty flit through my brain. The idea of starting something with Ellery that could lead to a long-term relationship sounds pretty appealing. She intrigued me the other night. But that doesn’t mean I can envision taking care of her, providing for her, without my job. It’s what makes me me.
“Let’s flip the situation though,” Coach continues. “Say this is a big deal like I think it is and that your shoulder has an injury that needs some attention. You get it fixed, you get back to it, and you get back up to par.”
I look away, realizing how simple it sounds when he says it that way. So why am I frozen in place? Why can’t I seem to do anything about it?
“I get it. You’re afraid this is the end of the road. Hockey is a short-lived sport and you’ve already outlived everyone else. You’re having the athletic version of a mid-life crisis. You wouldn’t be the first one. Problem is, if you don’t stop being a pussy and get this taken care of, I guarantee your career is over. If this is fixable, at least you have a shot. It’s your choice on how you want to handle this.”
Leave it to Coach to lay it on the line for me.
“I’ll leave you to it since I’ll never harp on a player for getting in some extra practice, even if he is being an idiot.” He turns to leave, still calling out orders. “But get your ass in that machine before you’re out of time and not even surgery can fix it.”