by Penny Dee
“Z is Ethan’s agent,” I whispered to Ana while nodding toward the burly NFL player sitting next to her.
“Of course she is,” Ana muttered, looking ahead.
I sat back in my chair. The room was filling up and there was an energetic chatter in the air. But conversation between Ana and I seemed to have stalled.
“You know, when we were snowed in, Z had this funny—”
“Oh, my Lord, Jake! Stop. Just . . . stop. Before I grab you in a headlock and throw you down.”
What the fuck?
I looked at her, surprised.
“Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Mackenzie this, Mackenzie that. And don’t get me started on all the Z nonsense you went on about during the car ride here.” She wacked me over the head with her clutch but then her face softened and she sighed. “Why are you here, Jake? Go to her. Forgive her. Tell her you love her and then put this all behind you.” She smiled softly. Well, as softly as a six-foot, two-hundred-pound WWF diva could. “It’s the only way you are going to be happy again.”
“Leave? I’m not going to leave you here by your—”
“Jake, I am begging you . . . go and find her. Make it right. You will never be happy until you sort this clusterfuck out.”
She was right, of course. And now that I realized it, finding Mackenzie and telling her how much I loved her seemed like the most important thing in the entire fucking world.
I quickly kissed Ana on the cheek. “You’re the best. Are you sure you don’t mind me taking off?”
She shooed me away. “Go. Before I kick your ass.”
I kissed her again. “Krystal’s a lucky gal.”
She grinned. “Why are you still here?”
“Going.”
“Good.”
I worked my way through the crowd toward the doors leading out to the foyer when I ran straight into Casanova.
“Hey, hey, where are you going?” he asked.
Rushed and breathless, I barely slowed down to answer my teammate. “I have to find Mackenzie.”
Casanova grinned. “Well, you won’t have to go far, she’s right over there.”
As if the stars had aligned in that one perfect moment on our doomed relationship, there she was…Mackenzie, the woman I was in love with, walking into the room on the arm of another man. And when I say man, I mean, Purgatory was the epitome of masculinity. The Greek god of supreme male hotness. The Adonis of Sports.
Yeah, sure, I was taller (and, let’s face it, waaaaaay better looking) but this guy was pure testosterone. His muscles had muscles. His testosterone had testosterone. Hell, his dick probably had its own moon.
I was rooted to the spot as I watched them stop for photographs. Mackenzie stepped closer to him and looped her arm through his, that dimpled smile of hers deep on her beautiful face.
Every hair on my body bristled at the sight of them. And before I realized it, my hands had fisted into balls at my side. Clenching my teeth, my eyes bounced back and forth between Purgatory and the woman who was making me insane. Jealousy seared a path through me, cutting me deep and blackening my mind.
Every ounce of me filled with pain. Because in that moment it all became very clear. She had moved on from me.
She had gotten what she wanted.
She had Purgatory.
Unable to stand it, I started to walk before I could stop myself, and within five large strides I was standing in front of them. Mackenzie’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Jake,” she whispered.
Purgatory looked momentarily perplexed until he realized who I was, then he relaxed and smiled at me but I ignored him. My eyes stayed fixed on Mackenzie.
“It looks like you got what you want,” I said, failing to control the growl from my voice.
A small hiss of air escaped Mackenzie’s glossy lips. “It’s not what you think.”
I shook my head. “That’s the point, Mackenzie. It never was.”
And with that I walked away.
I was done.
In two days we were due to face the Ice Cats in game five, and more than ever I had to keep my head in the game. I couldn’t let us suffer another loss. I owed it to the team to give them my full attention and not be preoccupied by Mackenzie or the stupid bet.
That meant I had to stay away from her.
That meant we were finished.
This time for real.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Mackenzie
Two days later, the Fury lost game five and Jake was still incommunicado.
To escape my heartache, I got the hell out of Dodge.
I flew to my mom’s desert home in Joshua Tree, California, desperate for some one-on-one time.
While my dad was all about sharp suits and snappy suspenders, my mom was all about free love and nature. Her hacienda-styled home was surrounded by desert and palm trees. Wind chimes and crystals hung from branches and roof rafters, and the air was warm with the sweet smell of herbs. Everywhere you looked there were terracotta pots filled with some kind of herb or spice that my mom would pick at twilight and use in her popular remedies.
She owned an essential oil and flower water business, which was popular throughout the country. It wasn’t a huge production but it allowed her to spend her days doing what she loved the most: tending to her garden and soaking up the glorious, southern California sunshine.
Which was exactly where I found her when I turned up unannounced. She was outside by the pool, cutting lavender from a large plant in a brightly decorated terracotta pot. She was also naked.
No. She wasn’t naked.
She was wearing a Stetson.
“Mom,” I called to her from the patio.
She swung around at the sound of my voice and a big grin spread across her beautiful face when she saw me. “Daughter!”
You would think it would be awkward seeing my mom naked, right?
Wrong.
Did I mention that my mom was all for the free love, yada, yada, yada? I was raised by this free spirit, so seeing her naked and standing in her garden looking like Titania from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, kind of wasn’t a shocker for me.
Besides, from where I stood, her long blonde hair covered her ample boobs, while a well-placed calendula plant hid everything from the waist down.
“What a wonderful surprise!” She put down her garden shears and grabbed a long cotton shirt off a nearby gardening table, slipping it on as she came toward me.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me?” I teased as she buttoned up her shirt.
“Pure precaution, my darling. I’m not sure your hot hockey player is ready for all of this.” She winked as she swept a hand down the length of her slim figure.
At the mention of my hot hockey player my heart sank like a stone in water. I’d forgotten the promise I had made to bring Jake out to meet her.
But if my mom noticed my smile slip then she didn’t let on. When she reached me she pulled me into a big cuddle. “It’s so good to see you, my sweet girl.”
I held her a little tighter and for a little longer than I had intended, and it felt good to feel her familiar, comforting arms around me. When she pulled back, wise sparkling eyes zeroed in on mine.
“Is everything okay?” she asked gently. Knowingly. Which didn’t surprise me, because my mom was instinctual and knew things. “Your hot hockey player isn’t with you, is he?”
Nine words. One question. And I fell apart like a brick house on sand. Tears erupted from my eyes like a rogue irrigation system. My face crumpled. My mouth turned down and everything collapsed into one hell of an ugly cry. I threw my arms around my mom’s neck and sobbed into her warm shoulder.
Then came the babbling. I tried to explain about the bet and how Jake had found out and wouldn’t take my calls, but I was crying so hard I was quite inaudible. Finally, when I decided to come up for air my mom kissed me on the top of the head.
Hol
ding me at arm’s length she smiled. “Come on. Let’s drink mojitos and you can tell me all about it.”
* * *
My mom’s mojitos rocked.
They were also lethal. After a jug of them I was able to stop blubbering like a pre-teen and calmly tell my mom what happened because if I was honest, I was half-way to inebriation. Mom listened patiently, her wise, blue eyes glittering in the dying desert light as she absorbed all the details about Jake and our breakup.
Somewhere inside the house the Small Faces sang about Itchycoo Park, and I was momentarily transported back to the summer I had spent here following my parents divorce when I was twelve. Back to when life was much easier. Back to when I wasn’t a hockey player hurting monster.
“He’s hurt and he’s angry,” Mom said, taking a sip of her mojito. “He just needs time to get it right in his head first.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t see the look on his face. He was gutted.”
“When he heard about the bet, or when he saw you with Purgatory?”
“Both.” My stomach flared with pain when I recalled running into him at the ESPYs. His face. His eyes. They were filled with hurt.
“Why don’t you try ringing him?” Mom suggested.
“I tried. But he doesn’t want to talk to me,” I sighed and rested my head against the back of the chair. Dusk had settled into twilight and the first stars were out. “And why would he? I’m a horrible person.”
Mom gave me a pointed look. “Is it lonely there at that pity party for one?”
Clearly, my mom didn’t support my self-pity.
“Aren’t you supposed to soothe me?” I asked. “And feed me ice cream, and tell me everything is going to be okay?”
She waved off my suggestion. “I prefer mojitos and the truth. Both are equally effective.”
I poured the last drop of mojito mix into my glass. “Well, the truth is that I am a horrible person.”
Mom stood up. “No. The truth is you need to speak to him. Why not try again?” She gave me a mystical look, her eyes glittering at me in the dying light. She raised her arms and glanced around her. “You’re in the desert now, honey. Magic happens here.”
She picked up the empty mojito jug and winked at me before disappearing inside.
I sucked in a deep breath and held it there for a moment, then slowly released it, feeling my muscles unwind and relax.
It’s hard to explain, but there really is something magical about the desert at dusk. Especially at Joshua Tree.
I toyed with my cell phone in my hand. I was desperate to hear Jake’s voice but the chances of him answering were next to nothing. So far he hadn’t picked up a single one of the calls I’d made since the ESPYs. What was the point in trying again?
Yet something in the desert air was urging me to ring.
I sighed and drained the last of my mojito. What did I have to lose? I quickly found his number and hit the call button.
My heart lurched when he picked up.
“Hey, Z.”
And then it broke all over again when I heard that beautiful deep voice of his and his use of my nickname.
“Hey,” I replied gently, trying to hold back a sudden well of tears. Pain swelled like a tsunami of emotion in my chest.
He sounded so close, like he was right next to me, and I wished he was just so I could wrap my arms around him and breathe him in. I bit back the cold ache that had suddenly formed in the back of my throat.
“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to answer,” I said truthfully, scurrying my brain for something to say. There was so much to say yet now that I had the chance, I couldn’t remember a single thing. “How are you?”
There was a pause, and then, “I’m good. I’m just taking it easy before the game on Wednesday. How are you?”
Heartache swirled through me. It was so good to hear his voice.
“I miss you.” My voice broke when I said it, and I had to swallow deeply and look at the twilight sky to stop the tears from spilling down my cheek.
His voice was husky as he said, “I miss you, too.”
Hearing him say those words was the final straw and I failed to bite back the sob I’d been holding back since he’d answered his phone.
“I wanted to explain to you about Purgatory.”
He was quiet for a moment before he said, “You don’t need to explain anything to me, Z, it’s none of my—”
“I was there as a favor, Jake.” I interrupted him. “Purgatory’s date came down with the stomach flu at the last minute and he needed someone to escort.”
There was a pause on the other end. And for a moment I wondered if Jake had heard me or not.
“So you signed him?” he finally asked, his voice even.
Even though he couldn’t see me I shook my head. “Garrick will be handling his contract.”
More silence and I imagined Jake nodding. But I didn’t know what he thought because he didn’t say anything more about it.
So I broke the silence. “I really want to see you.”
Another pause before he finally said, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Z. I want to stay focused on the playoffs,” he added, his voice deep and husky. “I really need to keep my head in the game. We lost game four and five.”
“I know,” I whispered.
I had watched. Jake’s game had been off. He was clearly preoccupied and I blamed myself.
I struggled with a new round of tears. “Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we through?”
There was a long, torturous moment before he answered.
“I’m really grateful to you, Z. I’m where I am because of you. And for whatever reason you did it, you believed in me enough to get me this far. I will always be grateful for that. But something broke. And I’ve had too many things break in my life.” I heard him sigh and just the sound of his breath leaving his body sent my stomach into a flutter. “We’ll talk after the playoffs, okay?”
“Okay,” I barely managed the word because my throat was so tight. I hadn’t thought that my heart could break anymore but I’d been wrong. Hearing him say goodbye and then hang up in my ear, sent an all-too-familiar heartache washing over me.
“How did it go?” My mom asked from the doorway.
I shook my head because I couldn’t find the words and like the teenager I had morphed into, I started crying again.
Mom wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Here,” she pulled a small vial of liquid out of her shirt pocket. “This is my latest batch of Unbreak My Heart.”
Mom’s flower essences were legendary.
But I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. But I think I’m going to need something a little stronger than that to put me back together again.”
She pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from her other shirt pocket. “Come on. Let’s get baked and listen to what the desert has to tell us. No point moping about something you have no control over tonight.”
Then turning up the music, she lit the joint with a candle.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jake
I hung up and threw my cell phone onto the counter. Leaning forward I rested my head in my hands and waited for the pain to pass. But it didn’t. Because I missed her.
When my phone had rung, I’d seen her name appear on the screen and had answered in a moment of weakness.
I was desperate to hear her voice. But like a well-sharpened harpoon it had augured another giant hole in my heart.
Jesus Christ. I had to keep my head in the game. I couldn’t afford any distractions. The team were counting on me.
“You alright, buddy?” Cowboy asked, walking into the kitchen and heading straight for the refrigerator. He pulled out a box of leftover to-go food and sniffed it.
“Yeah, fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” said Casanova from behind me.
They were both dressed in sweats and based on the way Cowboy shoveled leftover Chines
e noodles into his mouth, I guess they’d both been at the gym.
They were both staying with me while the house they shared was being fumigated.
“Just the usual.” I sighed and tried to rub out a knot in my left shoulder blade. “How was gym?”
“Man, it was packed with babes,” Cowboy gushed with a mouthful of noodles. “You’re missing out, buddy. Told you, you should’ve come. Nothing like a training session to smooth out the pain of a broken heart.” He swallowed deeply. “Except sex. Now that is better. Waaaaay better.”
“Thanks. I’ll take that under advisement.”
Casanova dropped down next to me and opened a bottle of water. “Hey, did you know Candy from the Well-being Team has left? I went to make an appointment with her for today. But she’s gone. Pregnant.” He shook his head. “And here I was thinking we’d get married once my career was over.”
The Well-being Team consisted of a physical therapist, dietician, counselor and housekeeper for both the major and minor teams. Candy was our physical therapist.
And Casanova had a crush on her because of her hands.
“Damn, that girl was good at her job,” Cowboy said. I watched as he tipped the container upside down and then scooped the remaining contents into his mouth.
“Tell me about it. I swear to God her hands were like magic. Once, I had such a knotted hamstring I didn’t think I’d be able to skate for a week. Candy puts her hands on me and boom, I’m on the ice in twenty minutes.” Casanova shook his head and took a sip of his water. “Damn, I wanted to marry that woman.”
Noticing me rub my shoulder blade again he said, “Looks like you could use a massage.”
“Since Tex got me against the boards yesterday my shoulder has been crying like a baby,” I replied, rubbing it again. I’d done what I could to get the knot out. Stretched it. Taken a hot shower. Laden it down with ice packs. But nothing had worked. I needed to get it sorted between now and Wednesday’s game.
Cowboy clicked his fingers. “I met a guy the other day—”