Page 101 of Home Ice

When she doesn't even try to smile at my attempt to lighten the mood, my knotted stomach is yanked through my navel. Something is definitely wrong, and we need to get it out in the open. "Lily, please tell me what's going on."

She pumps my hand but then lets it fall to the sofa between us. "I called…" She clears her throat and pulls in a shaky breath. "I called Elena, the head trainer of the Lightning."

I have to think for a few seconds before I'm able to place the name. "Your old boss at Denver's baseball team?"

She nods, and the movement knocks a tear free. My attention follows as it runs down her cheek, slowing as it gets to the edge of her upper lip. "Spring training starts in a month."

"Okay?" Why does it feel like whoever took my stomach out of my body now just dropped it to the floor? It's the team she worked for before moving back to Salt Lake City. She probably has friends there. Knowing her, I know she has friends on that team. It's normal to talk to them. There's nothing unusual about that or knowing that they're going to start training in a month.

"Pitchers and catchers report even before that. They'll be in Arizona in a couple of weeks."

Eating too many garlic knots can make a person's heart pound, right? That has to be what's causing my heart to race. And causing the block of concrete that's settling lower in the area that used to be my stomach.

"They're mostly good people." Her gaze is so cold it makes me shiver. "Stonely—he's a pitcher—he's kind of creepy, but all the girls know not to let him catch us alone."

My heart is beating three beats for every one it normally takes. "Did he do something to you?" I will fly to Denver or Arizona or wherever he is right now and tear apart his pitching arm if he even tried to do anything to my girl. Fuck, I will break one finger for every time that he even looked at her wrong.

"No, of course not. I mean, he might have said some things, but no, that's not why I'm bringing this up."

I take a deep breath the same way I would before facing a shootout. It can't be that bad, I tell myself. You know she loves you. She introduced you to her dad tonight for fuck’s sake. "Then why?" The words scratch my throat and leave me panting as they pass from my mouth. It can't be as bad as it feels.

Her throat bobs up and down twice, and she looks like she's about to choke on the air she can't get out of her lungs. Fuck. "I'm a lot. And you've got your career. You're a star, and…"

"Lily?" It's like tripping over a step. The foot I take for granted suddenly isn't there. My upper body gets just a little too far ahead of my center of gravity, but for a split second, it feels like I might be able to regain my balance. My arms shoot out to the sides. But that's not the direction I'm falling, so it does no good. Maybe I can jump the other foot forward. No. And before I even realize it, things are too far gone.

"And I'm a distraction you don't need. Thank you for fighting for me, but you shouldn't have to. You shouldn't have to worry about someone getting to you that way. Your career is more important than me."

Whoever ripped out my stomach and dropped it to the floor is stomping on it. Kicking it. Jumping off the top rope of a wrestling ring and elbowing it again and again and again. Wrapping their fingers around it to squeeze away any little bit of life that might be left. Taking away mine too.

Lily closes her eyes. She can't even look at me now. "It's not breaking up, Brant. I swear. It's a break. So you can think about what's best for you. I'm leaving for Arizona in two days to help the Lightning get everything ready."

"No you're not!" Chloe's sob hits me like a slap. Smelling salts waking me to the fact that I have to do something before we both lose this woman.

"You're not leaving us." Why is my voice so wobbly? I need it to be the voice I use in practices when one of my defenders doesn't do what he's supposed to do.

The corners of Lily's lips curl up, but it's not a smile. It's the look of kindness you give someone as they're dying in front of you.

"You're not leaving us. You're not leaving us." I'll keep repeating it until I'm able to roar it the way the words deserve. Until she understands that she can't do this.

"I'm not leaving you. Either of you. Not forever." She takes a breath, and I recognize the mask that she's trying to pull over her face. It's one I use on the ice every game when I can't let anything get to me. The mask that Asher fucking Sorenson destroyed last week. "I just know some space would be best."

Jesus Christ. I can't sit here for another second. I jump to my feet. "You're leaving us? You're leaving us." I turn toward the kitchen and run my hands across my face. My palms come away wet with tears I didn't realize were there. This is my knee all over again. This is the pain that sends me sprawling onto the ice. The tear that shreds everything. But this isn't just destroying my career.

"I'm not going to stay here while you throw us away." Chloe stomps away from the recliner where she's been sitting.

"What are you doing?" Lily starts to follow her but stops when it becomes clear that the teen is gathering Silver's leash so she can leave. "Let me drive you. Or let Brant," she amends when Chloe huffs.

"I'm walking."

"It's almost ten. You are not walking. Brant? Tell her she's not walking." Chloe's eyes slide from Lily to me and then to the door. "Brant, tell her! You can't just run away from your problems."

I know Lily's panicking, but it's a low blow. I wince at the pain that contorts Chloe's face. Lily gasps and covers her mouth as soon as she realizes what she said, as if she could pull the words back inside her and hold them there.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking about?—"

"Look in a mirror, Lily." Chloe's voice sounds like it's on the edge of breaking. "Look in a fucking mirror."

Lily's mouth tenses like she's going to scold Chloe for her language, and any other time I would back her up or do it myself. But right now I can't fault the girl.

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