Roughing (Ottawa Titans Book 1)

by Sarah Hegger

  Danica gave a wry laugh. “But Sam is nothing like Paul, Lizzie. Sam is kind and warm and he loves you. He believes in you and wants the best for you.”

  “I don’t think I can be a hockey girlfriend.” Her voice came out small and desperate, because a huge part of her still wanted to be that.

  Danica shrugged. “I certainly didn’t want to be a hockey mother. You know how hard I made it for Sam to play. But I try to live with the parts I don’t like and enjoy the perks it offers.”

  “With hockey I’ll always be second, just like with Dad.”

  “No.” Mom hugged her. “I’m not saying it will be easy, but you’ll always be first with Sam, and he won’t play hockey forever.”

  Elizabeth’s head felt crammed with all she had to think about. “Can’t we concentrate on Jane?”

  “I am concentrating on Jane.” Mom patted her hand. “But I think all of us, you included, need to give Elizabeth some attention.”

  * * * *

  Sam felt like crap. He ached, and he was in pain, and none of it was from the game he’d played.

  In fact, he’d played a great game and gotten one goal and two assists. Those had gone a long way to seeing the Titans into the playoffs.

  Around him, his teammates cheered and broke out the drinks. After all it had taken for the team to get there, he should have been celebrating with them.

  Dawson sat on the bench beside him. “This is not a happy face.”

  “I’m happy.” Sam shrugged. “I’m cheering on the inside.”

  “Uh-huh.” Dawson passed him a bottle of Molson. “We’re letting this into the locker room but just for tonight. You had one helluva game.”

  “Thanks.” Sam stripped off his shin pads, wincing at the stink of hockey gear. “You didn’t suck yourself.”

  “Yeah.” Dawson sniffed. “But I’m hot shit. Ask anyone.”

  Sam snorted and sipped the Molson. God, he felt like a huge part of him was missing ever since Lizzie had kicked his ass to the curb.

  “I broke up with Kathy,” Dawson said.

  That was news, and Sam stared at him. “Yeah? What brought that on?”

  “You.” Dawson grabbed another beer from the cooler. “Watching your face the last few days, since Elizabeth…”

  “Dumped me.” Nope it didn’t hurt any less. “So, what? You thought misery would like some company?”

  “Nah.” Dawson leaned his elbows on his knees.

  Celebrations cranked up a notch as someone sprayed champagne over everyone.

  “The way it hit you when Elizabeth left,” Dawson said. “I don’t feel like that, and I never did. It made me realize I want that kind of connection.”

  That made Sam want to laugh. “That’s not really working for me right now.”

  “Yeah.” Dawson shrugged. “But you’re not going to let her go, right?”

  “Well, no.” Sam had been hanging back because of Jane. Elizabeth had more than enough to deal with. Jane was already out of ICU, and they were talking of sending her home to recuperate. “I haven’t worked out my play yet.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Dawson stretched his legs out. “Because, you know, it’s not like we’d ever want to make this choice, but if it came to hockey or an Elizabeth in your life…”

  Sam totally agreed. “There really isn’t a choice.”

  Chapter 36

  Elizabeth’s new word was getting a lot of practice as she carried on a text conversation with Jane. No, she typed, I don’t think you living with me is a good idea.

  After ten days, Jane had left hospital. It had taken her twenty-four hours of living with Mom to launch her attack. Mom had decided to learn from her mistakes and was taking a harder line with Jane. Even Dad had stood firm with her spending her convalescence with Mom.

  Immediately, Jane went on the attack. You’re so selfish. You have all that space to yourself.

  Nope, it washed right off her. She didn’t even bother with a justification that she had her condo because she paid for her condo. Jane was only interested in her capitulation. Still, no.

  Jane went for the jugular. I nearly died, Beth.

  I was there. Elizabeth really had to get going. It was opening night for South Pacific and her first challenge since she’d taken the job at Mountain Vista. I’m so happy you’re recovering, and I love you, but you’re not coming to live with me. She put her phone away.

  “Elizabeth.” Leonard had reached the point in opening night when a stiff whisky was needed. He appeared backstage and threw himself into a chair. “It’s impossible.” His top lip quivered. “I cannot do this.”

  Elizabeth handed him her hip flask because it was that or smack some sense into him. “Of course you can.”

  Leonard whimpered and took as sip. “We shall open to an empty house.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “I shall be ruined. My reputation will never survive.”

  Elizabeth peeped through the curtains. Even she was surprised by the size of the audience. “Actually, Leonard, I think we have a full house.”

  “A full house?” He perked up, and then slumped again. “Jerry will forget his lines. Not once has he remembered them all.”

  “Jerry will be fine.” Elizabeth responded by rote. Leonard went through galloping self-doubt every opening night. Keeping him distracted was almost working in distracting her from the persistent ache in her chest.

  God, she missed Sam. She wanted to be able to text him about Leonard and have him make her laugh. Everything seemed dull and colorless since she’d broken up with Sam.

  This was what she’d said she wanted, her ordinary life back. Funny, but she didn’t remember it as being quite so gray.

  “Elizabeth!” Leonard sat up. “Have we checked the props?”

  “We’ve checked the props.” For the fourth time, but it beat dwelling on Sam.

  “But—”

  “The props are fine, Leonard.” She handed him the hip flask.

  A stir from the audience side of the curtain grabbed Leonard’s attention, and he sprang to his feet. He peered through the curtain. “Elizabeth!” Turning to her, he gave her a huge smile. “Darling, girl. You have made me the happiest of men.” With a chuckle, he rubbed his hands together. “It would not surprise me if the local media followed them.”

  Not really understanding, Elizabeth peeked through the curtains.

  Sam!

  She stared, sure he would disappear again. But it was him. Sam was making his way down the central aisle in the theatre, and he had Guy and Dawson with him.

  Tears blurred her vision and she swiped them away. Despite everything, Sam had still come, and he’d brought the others with him.

  Elizabeth dashed her tears away.

  Marc Gracie followed the three hockey players. The four weren’t making much progress, as they kept getting stopped by fans.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off Sam. He looked tired and was sporting a slight bruise along his jaw. They’d come straight from a playoff game, which the team had won, and thereby won the first series.

  Okay, so she hadn’t managed to stop herself from following Sam’s games. Who was she kidding? She had stayed glued to the television for every single one.

  “Elizabeth,” Leonard said. “Could you please pay attention to your director?”

  “Leonard.” She really didn’t want to, but she dragged herself away and faced Leonard. “I understand that you’re nervous but getting fussy with me is not your stress relief.”

  “You must speak with Myrtle.” Leonard looked ready to burst into tears. “She is refusing to wear her Spanx.”

  Elizabeth went off to deal with Myrtle, but her head was full of Sam. He had come.

  She didn’t know what that meant, but he was there in the same building with her, and she wanted to rush to the front of house and…

  What?

  Breathe the same air as him. Touch him.

  Except she’d given up the right to do any of that, and she hadn’t spoken to Sam sin
ce that day in the hospital. She wished she knew what his being there meant.

  She had lain awake nights knowing that Sam wouldn’t be alone for long. Women would line up to be with him.

  She was being stupid. He was probably there because Danica had asked him to be. Except he’d never done that before they’d gotten together.

  Her head spinning, she knocked on the women’s dressing room door, and popped her head around the corner. “Myrtle, we’ve had the Spanx discussion, and without them, the costume doesn’t fit.” She snagged the grass skirt behind the door. “And the grass skirt is still a hard no.”

  There was that word again. It got easier each time she used it.

  The show took longer than ever, or so it seemed to her. She wanted to get to the end and maybe find out why Sam was there. Maybe even talk to him.

  She sat backstage, one part of her running the show and another trying to stop herself from being so delighted Sam was there.

  It was getting harder and harder to remember that she’d broken up with him, and it really shouldn’t matter to her what he did.

  Her reasons for the breakup seemed so flimsy and ridiculous that she couldn’t even really understand why she’d done it.

  But she’d had good reasons, valid reasons, and they had made so much sense to her.

  Hadn’t they?

  “Elizabeth.” Leonard glared at her. “The curtain?”

  She cued the curtain for the end of the show and stood at an angle backstage where she could see Sam.

  Guy whistled loudly as the actors bowed.

  Dawson was clapping enthusiastically and doing a good show of looking like he was having the time of his life. He leaned over and whispered something to Sam, which made Sam laugh.

  Sam had the best laugh. It came from his belly and crinkled up his face. She missed his laugh.

  She missed everything.

  But she’d blown it. She knew Sam well enough to know he wouldn’t set himself up for another round of rejection. He had his fair share of pride, and she’d trampled all over it.

  The applause died, and the cast flooded off the stage, laughing and chattering, high on the adrenalin rush of their performance.

  The audience filed out of the theatre, swallowing Sam up with them.

  Trying to block out the pain, Elizabeth threw herself into the post-performance cleanup. There was plenty to do, and she got to it.

  Leonard had left for the front of the theatre already.

  She put the props away and made sure everything onstage was fine for the crew to strike the set.

  In the dressing rooms, the cast was still chattering away. She would make sure they were all out before she left.

  “Elizabeth?” Dawson stood behind her with his hands in his back pockets.

  His handsome face made her think of Sam again, but she managed a smile. “Craig.” She took the hand he held out and kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Dawson spread a hand on his broad chest. “I love the theatre.”

  Elizabeth snorted, and Craig’s face broke into a smile. “Okay, Sam asked me to come with him.”

  She couldn’t stop her smile from sliding off her face. “That was nice of him. It was nice of you too.”

  “Lizzie.” Dawson touched her shoulder. Then he surprised the hell out of her by pulling her into a hug. Broken heart aside, a Craig Dawson hug was a shot straight to the ovaries. Taller than Sam, and as solid, he wrapped her in muscle and clean smelling man. “My boy looks about as crappy as you do.”

  “He does?” As much as she didn’t want Sam to be hurting, she kind of did as well. Because if he was hurting, it meant he hadn’t forgotten her.

  Dawson chuckled and pulled back enough to see her face. “You probably don’t know this, but I broke up with Kathy.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” It seemed the right thing to say.

  Dawson shook his head. “Don’t be. What Kathy and I had wasn’t the real thing. Not like you and Sam have.”

  “Had.” A small sob got away from her. “We don’t have it anymore.”

  “Of course you do.” Craig gave her a small shake. “Men like Sam, Guy, and I don’t have to look far to find a woman happy to share our lives.”

  Elizabeth had no idea how that was supposed to be helping. “Okay.”

  “But what we very rarely find is someone like you. You think you can’t be with Sam because you have a normal life, and that’s what you want, but that’s exactly the reason you should be with him.” Craig bent his knees and met her gaze. “You keep him grounded. You provide the real in a world that can get so fucking crazy it can eat you alive. You see him, Lizzie. You don’t see Sam Stone, forward for the Titans. You see Sam when he’s having a shitty day. When he’s having a great day. When he’s getting through one day and into another.”

  “I’m scared,” she whispered, “that I’ll disappear.”

  “That’s not possible.” Craig gave her another hug. “You are Sam’s true north, and he knows that. Let the rest of the world see what they want. You and Sam know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”

  * * * *

  When Elizabeth left Mountain Vista, the parking lot was nearly empty. Only night shift’s cars were in the staff lot; all the visitors had gone. Until she saw the empty parking lot, she hadn’t realized that some part of her had harbored hope that Sam might wait for her. Chill spring wind chased an empty chip packet across bare asphalt. And now she was seeing metaphors in litter, and that really had to stop.

  Shivering against the wind, she hurried to her car and climbed in. The chip packet took off on a gust and crumpled against the chain-link fence.

  A text chimed on her phone, and hope flared, only to dim again. It was Mom telling her she was going for a drink with Danica and congratulating her on the performance.

  Mom should be taking herself out for a drink with her bestie. She had looked good tonight, dressed in a new red sweater and trendy jeans. She had spent years with a man who didn’t make her happy because she was too scared of being without him. As uncomfortable as her marriage had been, it had been familiar.

  Elizabeth turned on the ignition and got the heat going.

  Predictably, Dad had not come to the show. Or he might have, and she hadn’t noticed. Dad had treated her like an extension of Mom, and as such, only worthy of his notice when it pertained to him. They had been the minions to his Felonious Gru.

  Well, Sam had come to the performance, and the minions had gotten their own movie.

  She sent her mother a text before she lost courage.

  The phone rang. “Darling.” Mom sounded breathless. Chattering voices and glasses clinking underscored her voice. “We got your text.”

  Then Danica’s unmistakable whisper. “Ask her.”

  “I am about to ask her.” Mom sounded impatient.

  “Do it now.”

  “I’m doing it.”

  “Do it.”

  “Darling,” Mom said into the phone, “why do you want to know where Sam is?”

  Oh, these two. And she would be laughing right now but her stomach was a ball of nerves. “He and I have some talking to do.”

  “Tell her he misses her,” Danica said.

  Her Mom huffed. “I’m fairly sure she can hear you.”

  “Does he?” Elizabeth grasped at the drifting straw. “Does he really miss me?”

  “Every minute of every day.” Danica came on the line. “And he’s spending the night at my house. And we’ll be home much, much later. And the key is in its usual spot.”

  Laughing, Elizabeth hung up. Her courage faltered with the loss of connection. Then she took a deep breath. After thirty years, her mother was out there being the self she wanted to be.

  It took twenty minutes to get to Danica’s house and another fifteen of quaking in the car before she climbed out and approached the house.

  The walkway was swept, and light shone from inside. She hesitated about knocking,
and then went with what Sam would do. Full steam ahead and damn the torpedoes.

  She got the spare key out and took another frigid five minutes hesitating to put it in the lock. It was crazy. She could go away and come back in the morning when she knew what to say. She was a planner, not an impulse person anyway.

  The door opened, and Sam stood there. “Lizzie, I swear to God, both of us are going to freeze our balls off before you put that key in the lock.”

  Hair damp from a shower, Sam had changed into track pants and a long-sleeve T-shirt. He looked breathtaking and real and every thought she had slid away. “Er…hi.”

  “Hi?” He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”

  “Umm…I was working on the rest.” Her tongue felt huge and ungainly.

  Growling, he gripped her arms and pulled her into the house. “Get in here.”

  She stood in the front hall, frozen and uncertain.

  “Shoes.” Sam pointed. “Or my mom will have your ass.”

  Danica would too, so Elizabeth bent and removed her shoes. Then hung her coat.

  “Come on.” Sam led her into the kitchen and leaned his lean hips against the counter.

  Elizabeth had nothing. She stood there studying her white ankle socks against the dark wood floor.

  “Want some help?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Please.”

  “You came by to thank me for coming to your show and bringing Dawson and Trapper. Also that Gracie prick.”

  “Yes.” She stopped before she nodded a crick in her neck. “It was very nice of you, and we raised so much more money because of it.”

  “You’re welcome.” He folded his arms across his broad, sculpted chest. “Is that all?”

  “No.”

  He studied her, looking nervous and unsure of himself. “I can’t help with this part, Lizzie.”

  “Okay.” She squared her shoulders. This was Sam. She’d known him since they could both toddle. She’d called him names, hit him with a hockey stick, and even sugared his bed. Then she’d fallen in love with him and he with her. She’d left him. This was her play. “I also came to say I’m sorry.”