by S. R. Grey
The only thing that strikes me as odd is when I’m out of the shower, Landen is gone.
On the nightstand is a note.
“Well, at least there’s this,” I mumble dejectedly as I sit on the edge of the bed, adjusting the towel wrapped around me and read.
Gorgeous, I am going to miss you so fucking much. Sorry I had to run, but the charter flight is super early. Wait, that’s not entirely accurate. To be honest, I was worried I wouldn’t want to leave if I stuck around.
We’ll talk and text a bunch, but it won’t be the same.
Love you,
Landen
Hmm, okay, so he did write that he loves me in the note.
That’s a positive.
Still, it would’ve been nice to hear it from him directly, especially since I won’t see him for days.
“Just stop it, Cricket,” I admonish. “You’re worrying too much about stuff.”
Setting my concerns aside, I get dressed, choosing a smart black pantsuit and kitten heels.
And then I head out.
I have to stop at my own place to pick up some paperwork for today’s event.
After I do that, I’m off to the Desert Sports Complex, where the Wolves play.
I meet up with Blake in the players’ parking lot as planned.
He’s driving a black Lamborghini when he pulls in.
Once he steps out of his car, limping slightly, I head over to him.
Nodding to his vehicle, I say, “What is it with you hockey players? Must you all own fancy sports cars?”
He laughs. “That’s right. Landen has a Ferrari and a Porsche. I guess we just like to go fast…on the ice and off.”
I think about my time with Landen driving the Ferrari out in the desert and how freaking fun it was.
“You know,” I say, nodding. “I totally get that.”
He raises a brow. “Have you driven one of Landen’s cars?”
“Yep, the Ferrari,” I reply.
“No way.” Blake looks surprised. “He must really be into you, Cricket. No one—and I mean no one—ever touches that man’s babies.”
I want so badly to tell Blake that Landen is more than “into me,” but I ultimately decide he can share that with his friend.
Not to mention, something still feels off about Landen leaving only a note and not saying goodbye, or that he loves me, in person. Especially after the night we had.
Add in the fact that he’ll be gone for a while, and yeah, this sucks.
Shaking my head, I ask Blake, “Are you ready to go?”
He nods. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
As we begin walking over to my car, my sensible silver sedan, I joke, “Sorry you’ll be stuck in this boring old thing today.”
Part of my job as event coordinator is to sometimes transport players to the event, especially if there’s only one like today.
Blake laughs. “That’s fine. It’s still a nice car.”
“Ha!” Now it’s my turn to chuckle. “It’s okay, but it’s no ritzy sports car.”
Even he has to concede, “No, it’s not.”
Once we’re in my car, I ask how he’s feeling.
“Good,” he says. “It’s not a bad sprain. I should be back on the ice in no time. This is just a precaution.”
“Thank God it’s not bad, huh?” I plug the directions to the school into the GPS system.
“Yeah, definitely,” he agrees.
It only takes us about fifteen minutes to get to our destination. The principal is outside waiting for us, and after exchanging pleasantries, she leads us to the auditorium where the event will be held.
The kids are already inside, so we go in through the back.
With the stage set up, I head out to the podium and say a few words.
I then introduce Blake.
He cracks a few jokes—clean ones, of course—and goes on to talk a lot about hockey and the importance of following your dreams.
The kids love him.
There’s a Q&A afterward that I run, and then Blake and I pass out autographed photos.
All in all, the event is a raging success.
That’s why I’m happy to discover, once I’m back in my office at the Desert Sports Complex, that I have more events coming up this week and next.
“This will keep me busy while Landen’s away,” I murmur to myself as I print out my new schedule.
I’m happy, but I’m still counting the days till he returns.
I miss him so damn much already.
But what can I do?
Sigh.
Second Thoughts
From the time I leave my house to the moment the team and I land at our first destination city—Chicago—I feel weird.
It’s like I’m having some kind of an existential crisis.
Fuck, my mind is filled with second thoughts.
It’s kind of like yesterday but worse.
Now that I’m away, I’m more worried than ever that Cricket and I are moving way too fast.
We were quick before in our decisions, but it felt okay at the time.
Now, though, it’s different.
It’s like we’ve hit hyper-speed and there’s no going back.
I think maybe our saying “I love you” to each other has freaked me out.
Dating exclusively is one thing, but putting those words out there is something else entirely.
It makes everything bigger, more official.
And it leads to more—like moving in, like m-m-marriage.
Fuck.
I absolutely do love Cricket, though.
And when she told me last night for the first time that she loves me, my heart soared.
So why is all this uncertain crap in my head?
I just don’t know.
Maybe it’s the extraneous stuff going on—like this road trip and how the hockey world is approaching the trade deadline.
I know for certain that the Wolves will be trading someone.
There’s talk that they’d like to acquire a more skilled centerman for my line.
The guy we have is all right, but Blake and I would probably produce a lot more if we had someone better at center setting up plays for us.
Rumor is the Wolves are looking to acquire a guy named Sebastian Alderman. He’s big and strong and quick on his skates. He makes a lot of good plays too. He’s also known for being daring. He’ll fight anyone, do anything. The dude is fearless.
I hope we grab him from the Panthers.
Since we’re down a guy this road trip, I’d like to see him get signed quickly. He could join us right away since my linemate Blake suffered a minor lower body injury during that last home game.
He’ll be okay to play in about a week, according to team doctors, but the powers-that-be felt it best to have him stay home.
That’s why he ended up scheduled for the event today with Cricket.
Anyway, if we pick up Sebastian, it’d be great.
He plays center, where we desperately need him, but he can also fill in at right wing.
It’d be cool to have him fill in for Blake.
But I guess we’ll see what happens.
For tomorrow night’s game against the Blackhawks, Coach Townsend is having a guy from our farm league play Blake’s position.
I have a feeling as soon as we acquire someone better, that dude will be sent down.
But enough about that…
The rest of this afternoon is shaping up to play out like a normal road trip day when we have no game.
And it does.
After we check into the team hotel, the guys and I grab a light lunch down in a conference room that’s been set up special for us, observing all our dietary needs.
After lunch, we head over to the practice facility for some ice time.
That goes fine, as expected.
When practice has just about ended, I get word that a bunch of the guys are going out to dinner before hitting a local casino tonight.
&n
bsp; I haven’t played cards in a while, so I grab Benny Perry, who’s part of the organizing group, before we get back on the bus to head to the hotel.
Pulling him aside, I ask, “Is it cool if I come along with you guys to dinner and the casino?”
“Hell, yeah, man.” He raps me on the back. “The more, the merrier. I would’ve asked, but you’ve been with Cricket so much lately that I figured you’d given up on gambling.”
“Pfft,” I scoff. “Hardly.”
“Good, then we’ll count you in.”
“Cool,” I tell Benny.
Once I’m seated on the team bus, I have that weird trapped feeling again.
I dismiss it.
You’re being stupid, dude.
Shaking my head, I call Cricket to see how her event with Blake went and to update her on my plans.
I’m sent to voice mail, though.
Damn, I really need to talk to her.
I’ll feel better then, I know it. .
But I’ll have to try her later.
For now, I just text my plans to her so that she’s in the know.
Back at the hotel, after showering and dressing to the nines—we’re always in suits when we go out like this on the road—my teammates and I meet in the lobby.
It’s a good crew.
There’s Benny, me, our captain Brent Oliver, Jaxon Holland, Nolan Solvenson, and a few of our fourth-line dudes.
One of the guys rented a shuttle to transport us to a steakhouse for dinner and then to take us to the casino afterward.
That’s good.
This way we can have a few drinks and not have to worry about one of us driving a rental SUV or whatever.
It’s also easier than hailing taxis.
Plus it’s fun on the way to dinner. We’re all able to talk and goof around.
Dinner is amazing, but we eat rather quickly.
I think we’re all pumped up to do a little gambling.
After we arrive at the casino, just like back at home, we’re escorted to a VIP room for high rollers.
I head straight to the blackjack table with Benny and Nolan, while the other guys opt for roulette and poker.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m missing Cricket, or if it’s that I’m still stressed about our professions of love, but whatever the case, I find myself ordering whiskey on the rocks as my drink of choice.
I usually don’t drink anything that strong, or at all, when I’m gambling. I like to stay sharp.
But tonight I feel like I need something to take the edge off.
My stress from earlier feels like it’s coming back with a vengeance.
I sigh as the dealer, a guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a pudgy nose, passes out the cards.
I check my first hand—I have a king and a three of clubs.
“Hit me,” I say.
Unfortunately, I’m dealt a nine of hearts.
I’m over twenty-one, so I fold, disgusted.
I finish my drink and hail a server over to order another.
The cute cocktail waitress who saunters up to take the order bats her long lashes at me.
“You got it,” she says saucily once I tell her what I want.
Before she takes off, I ask, “Hey, what’s your name?”
Softly, she says, “Alana.”
“Ahh, Alana.” I nod. “I like it. That’s pretty.”
“Thanks, Landen.”
It takes me a few seconds, but then I have to chuckle. “How do you know my name?” I ask.
She places one hand on her hip. “You play professional hockey, right?”
“I do.”
“Well, it just so happens that I love hockey. I follow all the teams and make a point to learn about lots of the players.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.”
And I am.
“You should be,” she says. “But…” She glances around, quieting to a whisper. “I better get back to work. You want your drink still, right?”
“Yes.” I nod and tell her, “Sure, go, go.”
My gaze lingers appreciatively on how her short, flouncy black skirt swishes and sways along the backs of her thighs as she walks away.
The bounce of her auburn ponytail only adds to her cuteness.
I clearly am a sucker for girls with their hair in ponytails.
Just like Cricket when we first met.
Speaking of which, what are you doing, man?
Hey, there’s nothing wrong with an occasional wayward thought…or a harmless appreciative glance.
But maybe there is because Benny, to my left, elbows me, and says, “Hey, I thought you and our event coordinator were an item?”
I turn to him, frowning. “We are. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He rolls his eyes. “Maybe it’s just hard to tell when you’re eyeing up other women. I mean, dude, your tongue’s practically hanging out.”
Bristling, I scoff, “It is not. And my interaction with her wasn’t that bad. I was simply ordering another drink.”
He levels me with a stern admonishing stare, and I have to admit that he’s actually right.
But something about the fact I shouldn’t be checking out, nor chatting up, other women, at least not that flirtatiously, is rubbing me the wrong way.
I guess that’s why I suddenly announce, “Even if I were flirting, I don’t see a ring on this finger.” I hold up my left hand.
Benny just shakes his head. “Dude…”
The cute waitress returns, and I take my drink from her.
For reasons I can’t even fathom, before she walks away, I ask her, “What time does your shift end?”
I hear Benny coughing pointedly from behind me.
Fuck him.
Smiling, she tells me, “I’m actually done in—” She takes out and looks at her phone. “—about three minutes.”
“No way.”
“Yes way,” she replies.
I can tell she’s interested, so I say, “That’s fucking fantastic. Would you like to get out of here and grab a drink with me?”
Smiling at me big and wide, she says, “I’d love to.”
“Great.”
I gather my winnings, making a point to not look at any of my teammates.
I don’t want to see the shock and disappointment on their faces.
Standing, I swiftly walk away from the blackjack table with Alana.
Little Things
After the event with Blake, I decide to do something nice for Landen. His office furniture has all been delivered and set up, as well as his computer and peripherals, but he needs some basic supplies.
“I can take care of that,” I say to myself as I head to the closest office supply store instead of straight home.
It doesn’t take long to get to my destination.
After I park my car, I check my phone.
“Shit, I missed a call from Landen.”
I knew I should’ve linked to Bluetooth in the car, especially since I forgot to take my phone off Silent mode.
I’m just not on my game right now.
I think I’m simply tired and missing Landen. Once I get home, I am so just crashing.
The good thing is that Landen did leave a text.
Phew.
Landen: Heading out with the guys to dinner and a local casino. I’ll be in kind of late, but I’ll call if that’s okay. Hope your day went well with the event with Blake.
I text him back that it all went amazingly.
I also say for him to have fun.
And then I let him know, Hey, I’m zonked. Still call if you want, but if I don’t answer, it probably means that I crashed. I’ll try to stay up, though. I need to hear your voice. Miss you so much. Love you. Talk soon.
The phone remains silent.
I sit in the car for a few minutes to see if Landen will text back, but there’s nothing.
Oh, well. I chalk it up to the fact that he’s probably already out with the guys.
That’s fine.
<
br /> I hope he has fun.
I, however, have some shopping to do.
“You sure do,” I murmur as I hop out of my car.
Once I’m inside the office supply store, I grab a cart and start down the aisles. I grab boxes of pens, pencils, a few notebooks, lots of file folders, a stapler, a box of staples, paper clips, and a myriad of other things I feel Landen may need for his home office space.
I also decide to pick up some art for his newly painted walls.
There are a couple of cool black-and-white cityscape scenes I come upon that I think will look great on the teal walls.
One is of New York City at night, and the other print shows Las Vegas during the day.
Both are aerial-type shots.
And, more importantly, both have meaning. These cities represent where Landen once played—New York—and where he plays now—Las Vegas.
They represent his past and his present.
Hopefully the Vegas one is his future too…with me.
Even though the art pieces are just prints, they’re in nice wooden frames that’ll match the richly colored furniture in Landen’s office.
They’re perfect in so many ways.
I can’t wait for him to see them.
All in all, I’m pleased with my purchases.
I think Landen will be too.
I like doing little things like this for him.
A store clerk helps me out to my car with all my many bags. He carries the prints, as well.
Once everything is loaded, I thank him and drive off.
As tired as I am, I still make a point to stop by Landen’s to drop off all the stuff in his newly painted—thanks to us, yay!—home office.
It still smells so fresh and clean in the room.
I don’t hang the artwork or put anything away.
I figure I can do all that later this week.
It’s another task that will keep me busy.
And that’s what this is all about, right?
Making sure time goes as quickly as possible over the next several days.
Yes, for sure.
That’s why, once I’m finally home, I pretty much go straight to bed.
I keep thinking how one day is gone and in the books, and there are only eight more to go.
I try to stay awake for Landen’s call, but it just grows later and later.
Where is he?
I come to the conclusion that he must be having a really good time with the guys.