Game On (Hometown Players Book 6)

by Victoria Denault

  “Rose is right,” I mutter more to myself than Brie, but she hears me.

  “About what?”

  “Well, a lot of things.” I stare at my empty scotch glass for a moment before looking up at Len and Chooch by the bar. “But today she’s right about that. Len is exactly the kind of woman Chooch needs.”

  Brie looks over at them for a moment, her long hair falling over her shoulder and shielding her expression from me. “That’s Chooch, huh? He seems nice. Len needs nice.”

  “He’s one of the best,” I say. “Almost too nice. He gets taken advantage of a lot.”

  “Len too,” Brie replies and then turns back to me. I had all these ideas of pushing her away, playing it cool, being aloof. But now that she’s in front of me, looking beautiful but guarded and maybe a little weary, I just want to fix this. “I’m sorry. I should have told you I booked us separate rooms.”

  “Or you shouldn’t have booked us separate rooms,” she counters.

  “I had to.” The tension and that cold prickle start to develop again, despite the scotch in my system.

  “If you think that’s what you have to do, then I have to do this,” she retorts and starts for the door.

  I watch her walk all the way across the crowded bar. I watch her swing the front door open. I watch her step over the threshold and I watch the door start to swing closed behind her.

  I should move. I want to move.

  I can’t move.

  Chapter 24

  Brie

  The wedding is truly beautiful and one of the most emotional ones I’ve ever been to. Rose was walked down the aisle by Jordan and Devin’s dad. Her sisters and Cole’s wife were her bridesmaids just as Cole, Jordan and Devin were the groomsmen. From the second I entered the church with Len until now at the reception, there is so much love in the room it’s palpable. As I eat my piece of delicious strawberry wedding cake with buttercream frosting I can’t help but look at Alex. He was assigned to my table, obviously, since Rose and Luc thought we were coming together, but Len quickly moved the name cards when we got here so she was sitting next to me and bumping Alex to the other side of Chooch.

  He’s been silent all day, barely speaking a word to anyone and as I look at him now, I can’t figure out if he’s feeling the vibe of this wedding as much as I am—as everyone else is. I’ve spent all day feeling like I’m treading water with bricks tied to my ankles. I think we just broke up. I mean, it hurts like we did. And more than the pain I feel a whole lot of frustration and anger about what could have been.

  Len did a good job of distracting me for most of the day before the late-afternoon ceremony. We went to brunch and got mani-pedis and did some shopping. This little town is cute. I imagine that growing up here without your parents was a little easier than growing up on the streets of Montreal alone, like Alex did. I have to keep reminding myself of that because otherwise I think about how even Callie, who everyone will quickly tell you was a card-carrying commitment-phobe, was able to let Devin in.

  Len leans closer. “Do you want me to kick him out? The meal’s over. They’re going to start the dancing soon. I could tell him to go take his brooding ass to another table.”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s fine.”

  It isn’t, but I want Len to just go back to enjoying Chooch’s company because I haven’t seen her smile so bright in a long time and definitely never over a man. The music gets louder and Rose and Luc step onto the dance floor and begin to dance to “All of Me” by John Legend. Len sighs and puts a hand to her chest. “I know. It’s perfect,” I smile.

  I feel his eyes on me so I look up. Alex doesn’t speak or move, just stares at me with those lost, stormy blue eyes. So I stare back, taking in every scar, every feature because after tonight I probably won’t see him again. I have to make a point of not seeing him again because it’ll be too hard if this really is the end. I finally pull my gaze from him and whisper, “God, how the hell does he not see we have something special and I’m worth letting in?”

  “I have no idea,” Len whispers back. “But he’s going to regret it.”

  Halfway through the dance, Cole, who is the MC, tells everyone to join in. Luc swings Rose and then lets her go. He walks over to his mom and brings her onto the dance floor and Rose starts dancing with Mr. Garrison. Chooch is looking hopefully at Len so I nudge her. She laughs. “Would you like to dance?”

  He basically jumps out of his seat instead of saying yes, and I grin at them as they make their way onto the dance floor. Alex is looking at me again, I can feel it, but this time I refuse to look back. I have to move on. I have to…

  Then suddenly there’s a hand, palm up, in front of me. I look up. “Please,” he begs.

  I shouldn’t. But I do.

  It feels good, dancing with him, being touched by him. I wish it didn’t. He pulls me closer, so that our bodies are grazing and his cheek is brushing against mine.

  “I was born in Montreal. My parents were young and happy. We lived in a very small apartment on Saint Denis Street.” His voice is low and clear, but thick with emotion. “They both worked two jobs because it was the only way they could afford the place. I went to a daycare across town. I liked it there. The lady who ran it was nice. The other kids were fun. My parents only had one car, so they used to drive together to and from their jobs. They died in a car accident on their way to pick me up at daycare when I was five. I remember waiting and waiting and being upset that I was the only kid left. I remember the lady was annoyed until the police car showed up. I remember the officers took her into the kitchen and told me to stay in the play room. I heard her start to cry anyway, but I didn’t know why. And then they told me they were taking me for a ride and I was excited because they were going to let me go in the police car.”

  I try to pull back a little so I can look at his face, but his arm around my waist gets tighter, holding me in place. He doesn’t want me to look at him. I give his shoulder a little squeeze to let him know it’s okay.

  He takes a deep breath that I can feel quake through him, but he continues. “I don’t know where my father’s family was or if he had any. I don’t ever remember meeting them. We did the occasional Thanksgiving with my mom’s parents and her siblings. They lived somewhere up north. I remember it was always colder there and it took almost a day to get there. Anyway they came down and stayed at our house until the day after the funeral and then they left. But first they introduced me to a lady they said would take me to my new home. It was a social worker.”

  I bite my lip to keep from gasping or swearing. What fucking monsters do not take in a little boy they’re related to? Oh my God. I close my eyes. The music has changed. Now an upbeat tune by Katy Perry is playing. We’re still standing on the edge of the dance floor, motionless now, like a statue of a couple mid-waltz. “Anyway I ended up in a few different foster homes, but none of them kept me. No one wanted to keep me.”

  I feel hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to cry. He doesn’t want my tears. So I take a deep cleansing breath, and when I’m sure I’m in control and my voice will be steady I say, “Will you come with me? Right now?”

  He lets me pull back so I can see him nod. Without another word I take his hand in mine and lead him out of the inn’s restaurant and back to my room. We take the stairs because I don’t want to wait for the elevator, which isn’t in the lobby when we walk toward it.

  But when we get up there I realize I left my purse with my key card in it on the table. Shit. He must realize that because without a word he walks over to his own door, pulls out his key card and opens his door. He holds it open for me to enter. I turn to him as soon as we’re inside.

  “You think I’ll leave you, like everyone else has,” I state. “That’s why you’re holding back.”

  “It’s more than that.” He runs his hands through his hair.

  “So tell me more,” I beg and blink because the room is getting blurry. “Like how you really got those scars on your
back.”

  He shakes his head no, and I move to the bed and sit down on the corner of it. “After my grandfather had a stroke, they put me in foster care.”

  “In Montreal?” I nod and he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  “I was in a home for a week. It was bad. I don’t know exactly what happened. I can’t remember. But I know that police came and took everyone away.” I swallow before I continue. “I also remember a boy fell through a glass window.”

  The only thing I hear is the thumping of my heart, and maybe even his, and then he says in a low, firm voice, “No.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t remember that. Someone told you,” he argues, his voice taut with fear and anger as he rises off the bed. “You read my file.”

  I shake my head, my heart pounding harder. “I read my file.”

  His eyes get dark. He shakes his head again. I stand up. “Brie is short for Gabrielle. My birth name was Gabrielle Laflamme.”

  “Oh God.” Suddenly looks at me like I’m someone else. Because now I am. I’m a four-year-old girl he knew for a week in a nightmare he lived. “It was you?”

  “It was you,” I reply. “You’re the boy who fell through the window.”

  “I did. On purpose,” he tells me, still looking at me like I’m a ghost. “They were abusing all of us, locking us in a closet in the basement and then after a few years when Jayla, the girl in the home, got older the man would go up into her room when his wife wasn’t home and lock the door. We could hear her crying and she told us he was touching her and making her do things. No one would tell anyone because they were scared, and when I tried the social worker told me I was a liar.”

  He pauses and lifts a hand to run through his hair. He’s shaking, but I don’t dare try to touch him because I don’t think it would help. “I was going to run away, like Andre did, but then they dumped you there.”

  He cocks his head to the side and blinks. “You were scared and quiet, but you didn’t cry and you seemed so…normal. I wasn’t going to leave you there to get fucked up like the rest of us. I didn’t want you to experience that cement room in the basement and I knew eventually he would do things to you like he did to Jayla. I knew it.”

  I shudder violently at the thought.

  “I was too young to handle this, you know? Only eight. And no one would listen to me. So I had to do something they couldn’t ignore,” he says, walking over to the bed. He sits on the edge and runs his hands through his hair before resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. “One night they’d already locked Kenny in the basement for something stupid like not eating all his dinner and Jayla was in her room, and the guy said I needed to go in the closet too so he could spend some time with you and Jayla. You were sitting on the floor just staring at us, and I was standing by the coffee table refusing to go into the basement. I felt so sick and panicked. He reached for me and I jumped up on the couch and I screamed as loud as I could. I just wanted someone to hear me and see what was going on. The couch was in front of the bay window and it was dusk and there were people outside, walking their dogs and I thought, Fall through the window and tell everyone he did it.”

  “Alex, oh God.” I can’t imagine the desperation that would lead a child to do that.

  “So when he tried to grab for me, I did,” he says quietly. “I was young and stupid and didn’t understand I could have died. I got up on the couch and just hurled myself backwards through the window. I got hurt worse than I thought. And they labeled me a problem child, but…it worked.”

  He lets me pull him to his feet. I wrap my arms around him and he collapses into my embrace and I start to cry. I think he might be crying too. “My parents were living in Quebec for my dad’s job. They were having trouble conceiving and had been trying for years. They’d already agreed to look into adoption and fostering when my mom saw the story about the home on the news and there was a clip of me crying, being taken away by the police. That’s how they found me. Because of you.”

  He pulls away and turns toward the window. He reaches up and wipes at his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. “Good. Then it was worth it.”

  “Alex, I’m falling in love with you,” I confess and it’s terrifying. “I know you’re not ready for that. I’m sorry.”

  He finally turns and looks at me.

  “I know there are a million things I can say to you, as a trained psychologist, to try and console you or change your thought patterns,” I tell him quietly as I cross the distance between us. “I can point out to you how loved you are by your friends. The people downstairs would never hurt you. And I can remind you that Mackenzie, in all her lippy teenage cynicism, idolizes you. For a girl who hates the world, that speaks to how lovable you are.”

  I reach up and lay my palms on either side of his face. He closes his eyes at my touch, the hard lines on his face relaxing a little. “But I’m not your shrink. I’m just this girl who sees you as this amazing human being and who is tripping all over herself to make you see it too so you’ll let me love you.”

  He opens his eyes. “I get nightmares.”

  His words swirl around my brain as I struggle to focus again after the kiss. Nightmares? I blink. “Is that why you won’t sleep with me?”

  He nods. “They can be violent. I thought I had them under control, like if I drank enough or was tired enough, they wouldn’t happen. But then I had one this past summer at Avery and Steph’s place, despite being tired and drunk, and he tried to wake me up and I accidentally hit him.”

  “You’re scared you’ll hit me.” Realization dawns on me.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against mine. “But I need to get my head on straight. I’m going to fuck this up again if I don’t. I want to see that shrink you mentioned.”

  “I’m going to give you the time you need, the space you need,” I tell him, even though it hurts so much I can barely breathe.

  But I’ll do anything for him, even if it means letting him go.

  Chapter 25

  Alex

  I smile up at them as the final buzzer sounds. Not only did we win the last game before the Christmas break, but I scored and Brie and Mac were here to see it. Life is good. I hurry through the shower and rush to get dressed. Devin watches me, perplexed.

  “Why is your ass on fire?”

  “I’m meeting Mac and Brie for dinner,” I explain. “They’re waiting.”

  “Really?” Devin looks intrigued and a little amused. “You dating again? Or is it still? I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

  “It’s complicated,” I reply and grab my coat.

  I’ve been in therapy for a few weeks. Brie and I never said we were breaking up, but we’ve definitely put the brakes on our relationship. I’ve been seeing a therapist twice a week and I’ve made some progress, but I have a long way to go. But it’s amazing how the mental exercises and meditation the therapist has given me are working.

  “Later, guys!” I call before anyone can make any more comments or ask any questions.

  In the hallway the coach barks my name. I turn and see he’s almost smiling. “Great game,” he says gruffly. “I’m liking you’re play lately.”

  I want to pump my fist and scream Fuck yeah! but I just nod. “Thanks, Coach.”

  I’m grinning as I leave the building. Brie and Mac are waiting across the street as planned. I burst into a grin at the sight of them. Mac runs to me jumping up and down. “You scored! How cool is that?”

  “Pretty cool,” I laugh. Brie walks over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “It was a goal, not an assist. It deserves more than a kiss on the cheek.”

  Brie grins and rocks up and kisses me gently on the lips.

  “Gross,” Mac announces, but she laughs.

  We go to an Italian place and share an extra-large pizza and then, despite being full, Mac asks for a double order of chocolate cake and three forks. By the time we get to Bri
e’s house she’s told us all about her school day, asked a thousand questions about hockey and listed all the songs she can now play on the guitar. She’s a turning into a normal teenager. It’s fucking fantastic.

  She plays us one of the songs, then heads to bed. “I’m going to sleep with my headphones in tonight. Just so you know. And we have enough cereal for three bowls in the morning.”

  “Oh my God,” Brie groans. Mac waves good-bye and disappears down the hall. I hear her bedroom door close and I laugh.

  “What kind of cereal?’ I ask and slide across the couch so I’m right next to Brie. “Anything good like Cocoa Puffs or Sugar Smacks?”

  “I am not sending that child to school full of sugar,” Brie tells me. “We have Chex or Cheerios.”

  “Honey Nut?” I ask and raise an eyebrow. She laughs and I kiss her.

  The sex with her is amazing the way it always is. God, I can’t believe this woman puts up with me. That hits me at least once a day. She’s sticking around, she’s loving me even when I don’t know why she is. She’s lying beside me breathing hard with pink cheeks, and I feel like my heart has suddenly grown so big it’s going to crack my ribs. I reach over and brush a lock of her hair off her forehead. “I love you.”

  She stops breathing. Her brown eyes find mine. “I love you too.”

  “I know.” I swallow and fight the flutter of fear that has started in my gut. “That’s why I wanted to ask you if you and Mac would come to the Barons family skate Saturday. As my guests.”

  “Really?”

  I nod. “I know we’re like taking it slow, but that stupid TV crew is finally doing their piece on me and they’re filming me at the skate. They want to see me being myself and I’m myself when I’m with you.”

  She lifts herself up on her elbow, eyes still glued to mine. A smile starts to bloom on her lips. “I would love to.”

  “They also insist on a segment away from the rink,” I explain and grit my teeth.