Play to Win

by Kelly Jamieson

  I’m working on autopilot. In Vegas, the NHL and the NHLPA announced the salary cap for next season, which will be five million dollars higher than this season. That helps us some…but not enough. We need some depth players and we need them now. Luckily with all our preparation and with a good team here with me, we acquire some outstanding prospects and trade one of our players we knew we couldn’t keep for another second-round pick, which results in getting a player the scouts all think will have excellent value down the road for us.

  I ignore Lacey’s messages. She keeps sending them.

  I know she wasn’t screwing around with my brother. That would be too improbable. What are the chances that would happen to me twice? Like, a thousand to one odds. I don’t even know the statistical likelihood of that.

  But it did totally freak me out, seeing them together. A hot wave of jealousy hit me, all the feelings I’d had when I walked in on JP and Emma that day roaring back, making me want to puke. I’d lost my shit and stormed out, and when I’d calmed down and thought about it logically, I believed what Lacey tells me in her endless messages. But…anytime I trust someone or believe in something, I get shit on. I’m not going there again.

  I knew Lacey wasn’t going to be around forever, but I was getting crazy, stupid ideas about love and keeping her here and having something good and beautiful and joyful in my life. Something other than the work that I used to distract myself from the fact that I didn’t have much else going on in my life. I thought that was what I wanted. Then I started wanting more. But I know better than that.

  I keep telling myself this all weekend. When I board the plane back to LAX on Monday morning, I can feel satisfied with a job well done.

  Except I feel like I’ve been used as a target in the net for shooting practice, my entire body bruised and beat up.

  Now I have to deal with things at home. I’m looking forward to that as much I’d look forward to blocking an Ovechkin slap shot. My gut cramps with dread the entire flight. I try to ease the pain with whiskey. The flirty flight attendant is happy to keep refilling my glass, but I need to ease up because I have to drive home from the airport.

  I have no idea if Lacey works today; I know she doesn’t have a class on Mondays. But the condo is empty when I walk in. I’m both disappointed and relieved. Much as I don’t want to admit it, I want to see her again. I missed her. Again. Yet I’m relieved that I don’t have to have the conversation I’ve been planning in my head. I even made notes on my laptop, for Chrissake, so I’d know what to say.

  I haul my suitcase and garment bag with my suits upstairs and unpack. I carry my toiletry bag into the bathroom and set it on the vanity. I look around. The bathroom is unusually neat and tidy. Lately every time I walk in here, Lacey’s girl stuff is all over the place—hair products, moisturizers, shower gel that smells like her…apples and flowers…

  It’s all gone.

  I frown. My chest seizes up. I whip open the drawers of the vanity and doors of the medicine cabinet.

  Her stuff is gone.

  For a moment, I can’t move. Can’t think.

  Then I pound downstairs and rocket into her bedroom. I skid to a halt. It’s empty too.

  There is nothing of Lacey left in this room. The closet is empty. The bathroom is bare as well.

  My lungs deflate, leaving me winded. What. The. Fuck.

  I stumble through the condo. Her flip-flops aren’t sitting by the door onto the patio. Her magazines and knitting aren’t cluttering up the coffee table.

  She’s gone.

  Okay. Okay. Why am I freaking the fuck out when I was going to have a conversation where I gently suggested that we’d get a divorce and she’d move out. I could help her find an apartment, if she’s not ready to go back to Vegas. I was dreading that conversation. I should feel thankful I don’t have to do it. She made the decision on her own.

  For some reason though, there’s a burning in my gut, spreading up into my chest.

  I need to ignore it.

  It’s pretty fucking hard to ignore. I rub my chest. Maybe I need to take a pill.

  A thought bursts into my mind. What if…those douchehole bookies came here and got her?

  No. They couldn’t find her here.

  Could they?

  Now panic rushes through me, scalding my veins. Calm down, dickhead. Calm down.

  I grab my phone and fire off a text to her. Where the hell are you? Are you okay?

  It strikes me that she very well may not answer, given that I ignored her messages the last few days. But Lacey isn’t a petty person. She doesn’t play games. She says what she’s thinking. And her reply comes quickly.

  U have a lot of nerve texting me and asking me that when u wouldn’t answer MY texts. Asshole.

  I want to hit the button that will call her number and talk to her, but Christ, she’s right. I am an asshole. You’re right. Where are you?

  I’m in Vegas, asshole. Home. I’m fine.

  Vegas? Jesus! I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. I tap in another message. Just wanted to make sure you’re safe.

  Thanks for your belated concern. I want a divorce.

  Well. That’s exactly what I was going to suggest. A burn hits my chest again, and pressure builds inside me, all the way up into my head. My temples throb.

  I can’t move. I don’t know how long I stand there staring at my phone, not even seeing it. It feels like the condo fades away around me, and I’m standing in shadows. I swallow past the hockey puck lodged in my throat and tap in another message. Of course.

  Then I add, I’m sorry.

  I watch my phone for a long time, but nothing more from Lacey comes.

  Chapter 25

  Théo

  “Get your ass over here.”

  My demand is met with silence. Then JP says, “New phone, who dis?”

  I snort-laugh. “Ha ha. Look, we need to talk.”

  It’s been a week since Lacey left, and I’m losing my fucking mind. I can’t stop thinking about her. I need to talk to someone. The only one I can think of is JP. He’s always been my best bud…until the last year. I also need to know what was going on with him and Lacey that day I came home early, even though I know it was innocent.

  “Yeah, I guess we do.” He sighs. “You come here.”

  “Jesus Christ. Not everything’s a competition.”

  “Okay, let’s meet halfway. Time Out Sports Bar on Sepulveda, in Manhattan Beach.”

  I shake my head. “Fine. I’m leaving now.” I end the call and google the sports bar.

  It takes me about half an hour to get there. I find JP already there, which means it wasn’t halfway.

  “You made me drive further,” I say, dropping onto a stool at the high-top table against the wall where he’s sitting.

  “Nah. I just drive faster.”

  I roll my eyes. He doesn’t have a drink, so he must have just gotten here. TVs above the bar are playing baseball and soccer games. A waitress in jeans and a black Time Out T-shirt approaches with a friendly smile to take our orders. We both request beer, JP an IPA, me a craft lager.

  “What up, bro?” JP asks, carefully casual.

  I’ll just get right to it. “Why’d you come to my place that day when I wasn’t there?”

  “I wanted to talk to Lacey.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I figured she’s probably the person who knows you the best. Besides me.” One corner of his mouth lifts wryly. “I wanted to know if what Emma said was true.”

  “What Emma said?” Now I’m confused.

  JP’s face tightens and he drops his gaze. “I know this doesn’t make it any better at all, believe me, but she told me that she’d broken up with you, that day…you found us.”

  Thinking abou
t that day for once doesn’t make my stomach hurt. It’s just something that happened in the past. “She didn’t break up with me.”

  “That’s what Lacey said. So Emma lied to me about that. And…apparently she told you that she and I had broken up.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s a fuckin’ piece of work.”

  “Yeah. Can’t argue with that. She comes across so nice…fun. Sexy. But…”

  JP sighs. “Yeah. Anyway. I broke up with her. I never should have gone out with her.” He snorts. “Grandpa was right about that.”

  I meet his eyes. “You never should have gone out with her because she’s a piece of work? Or you never should have gone out with her because she’s my ex? Or, actually, she was my girlfriend when it started.”

  He closes his eyes briefly, the corners of his mouth tightening. “Because she was your girlfriend. No matter if she’s psycho or she’s the nicest girl in the world.”

  I nod, my chest expanding. “Thank you,” I say quietly.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “Tell me why. Why’d you do that?”

  The waitress arrives with our beers, and we stop talking for a moment. I pick mine up and take a healthy swig.

  “I don’t know. Honestly. She’s hot. She came on to me. We hung out while you were working, and she flirted and made me feel good about myself…when she said she broke up with you and…well never mind exactly what she said. But for the first time in my life, I felt as if someone liked me better than you.”

  I gape at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He picks up his glass. “Do you know how hard it was being your little brother? I was never as smart as you. As good a skater. As good a goal scorer.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I had to work my ass off to get anywhere. You have more raw hockey talent than I ever did.”

  He lowers his glass and stares at me searchingly. “Seriously?”

  “Hell, yeah.” I can’t believe he doubts that.

  “Uh, wow.” He shakes his head. “You really think that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I never…I guess there are things about each other we never realized. Even though we were best buddies.”

  “I guess so.” My eyebrows pull down. I rub my mouth, then shove my glasses up on my nose. “I never realized you felt that way. You…stuck up for me.” I remember the time he took on a big kid in grade seven who’d been tormenting me about my grades, accusing me of kissing up to the teacher and calling me a weirdo. JP had ended up with a black eye and a trip to the principal’s office.

  “Yeah.”

  “Those kids who bugged me all the time made me feel like something was wrong with me.”

  JP’s face twists. “That’s fucked up.”

  “Yeah.” I sigh. “I loved it that you defended me, but I kind of hated it too.”

  “Huh?”

  “I was glad you did it. Grateful. But I didn’t want to have someone else defend me. I wanted to be able to stand up for myself.”

  His forehead creases. “Shit.”

  “I know, I know, your intentions were good. It was just a little…humiliating. Also, I felt guilty because you got in trouble that day.”

  He shrugs. “I was always getting in trouble.”

  I study his face, the practiced casual expression. “You knew I didn’t want Mom and Dad to know what was going on. You didn’t even try to defend yourself to them.”

  He makes a face. “I think they knew what was going on.”

  I nod slowly. “Yeah, they did. I know that now. Mom told Lacey about it.” I roll my eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

  JP laughs.

  “I was obsessed with trying to figure out why those kids hated me. You know me…trying to analyze it.” I grimace. “I tried to make sense of it…but how do you do that when you’re a kid, and another kid is jealous or just plain mean?”

  “Hell.”

  “After that, I tried to hide that I was smart. I stopped answering questions in class, stopped doing extra credit projects. I tried harder at hockey, tried to be tougher. I tried to be perfect. I figured that way they’d leave me alone.”

  JP closes his eyes briefly. “And I just tried to be badder, because I felt like I couldn’t be as good as you.” He opens his eyes and meets mine across the table. “I really hated that they were little pieces of shit to you.”

  One corner of my mouth lifts. “Thanks.”

  “And you shouldn’t have had to change to fix things. We should have both come clean about what was happening and let Mom and Dad and the school deal with it.”

  “I survived. I know it made me a little obsessive and analytical. I know I have high expectations of myself. But I’ve done okay.”

  “You absolutely have. And I’m proud of you, and how you overcame adversity.”

  “Thanks.” I suck in a slow breath throw my nose, my chest full. “When I took that puck in the eye…you were there for me. Every day.”

  “I thought it should have been me. You were the good guy. I was the trouble maker. I should have been the one who lost an eye.”

  “Christ.” I bow my head, focusing on breathing, my lungs burning with every inhalation. This isn’t easy, talking about this shit. Hearing how JP really feels. Telling him how much he hurt me. It makes me feel so vulnerable. I hate that. It’s hard to trust him after what happened, and yet…he’s my brother. He fought for me and stuck by me when I was down. I have to be honest with him. “That’s why…that’s why it hurt so fucking much…what you did with Emma. I don’t know if I can forgive you.” I pause, then quickly add, “I don’t care about Emma anymore; that’s not it.”

  “Obviously. You’re married to someone else. Who’s awesome, by the way.” At my harsh stare, he lifts his hands. “Just saying. Nothing happened between us. You have to know that.”

  “I do know that,” I admit. “It hurt so much because it was you.”

  He nods, his face somber. His throat works and his voice is thick when he says, “I’m sorry.”

  Our eyes meet. I nod, accepting his apology. “Lacey’s gone.”

  His jaw slackens. “Huh?”

  “When I got back from Vancouver, she’d packed up and left.”

  He turns his head and gives me severe side-eye. “What did you do?”

  “What do you mean, what did I do? I was pissed because I found you with my wife, all cozy.”

  “You just said you know nothing was going on. For Mr. Logic, you’re not making a lot of sense, dude.”

  “Ugh.” I shove my hand through my hair and look across the bar. “Okay, I was pissed. She kept texting me and leaving voicemails trying to tell me it was nothing, but I didn’t answer her.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was busy. I was at the draft!”

  “Bullshit.”

  “The draft is important,” I try again. I sound lame as hell.

  JP leans forward. “Okay, you want to know what Emma said about you when she told me she broke up with you? I know she was lying about the breaking-up part, but the rest…I get the feeling it’s true.”

  My forehead tightens. “What?”

  “She said she was tired of taking second place to your job. You worked long hours. You canceled plans or wouldn’t even make plans.” One corner of his mouth lifts. “Why do you think she and I were hanging out together so much when I was there?”

  I stare at him. I feel like I was just slammed into the boards and had the wind knocked out of me. My lungs strain and I can’t breathe.

  “You seriously went away and didn’t answer Lacey’s calls because you were too busy?” He shakes his head. “Then you deserve to lose her.”

  My heart bangs against my ribs and there’s a h
ard pulse in the pit of my stomach. Oh my fucking God. He’s right.

  I’ve been trying so hard to overcome my past, that feeling of something being wrong with me…I worked so hard at hockey so I could succeed at that and be admired…be worthy. Then I lost that because there was something wrong with me, something really wrong with me because I couldn’t see and I couldn’t play hockey. I turned back to numbers. This time people admired me for being smart. They wanted me for my smarts. But I was so focused on that, trying to be the best, trying to prove that I deserved good things, that I didn’t pay enough attention to the most important things…people I care about. Emma. JP. And now…Lacey.

  I’ve lost her because I was too fucking busy to text her and tell her I knew she wasn’t cheating on me. Or actually because I was too afraid that I cared about her cheating on me.

  I cared.

  Only…she was never really mine to lose.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Okay, here’s the deal.” I eye him, ready for him to die laughing at my lame attempt to preserve a little pride and self-esteem. “Lacey and I only got married so I could come home with a hot wife so everyone wouldn’t feel sorry for me after my little brother stole my girlfriend.”

  He looks like I just told him I like to wear women’s underwear. “What?”

  I reluctantly explain the story. He nods, his facial expression changing from confusion to disgust at Lacey’s brother’s shenanigans, to understanding, then to confusion again.

  “I was going to tell her we needed to end things anyway. I can’t get involved with someone. Every time I get something I want in life, it gets fucked up. I don’t want to do that again. But…” A stabbing burn heats my chest. “I miss her so goddamn much.”

  His eyes crinkle up and his mouth turns down at the corners. “Sorry, man. I really didn’t mean to take away something you wanted. I really thought you and Emma were done, even though that doesn’t make it right, what I did.”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  “You’re in love with Lacey.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you are. You were almost crying, just now, talking about her.”

  “Fuck off, I was not!”