Page 39 of Shoot Your Shot

Me: Went fine. Won’t know more until I have another round of tests in 10 days. I’m going to start sitting in for practices next week.

Coach Jacobs: I’m headed to your house to pick you up. Be ready in five minutes.

I rear my head back and groan, resting it on the back of the couch. “Fuck,” I utter.

I love my coach and all, but I’m not in the mood right now. And it doesn’t exactly look good to the wife I’m trying to get back for me to finger-fuck her, cover her hand in cum, and then take off.

Coach Jacobs: And before you try to think of an excuse to avoid me, just know that I’m actually by the gate atthe end of your driveway. I’m still your coach, and you have to do what I say. So, open the gate, asshole. And get your shoes on.

“Oh my fucking word,” I spew before standing up and pulling up the app on my phone to open the gate.

Me: Give me five minutes.

In true over-the-age-of-fifty form, he sends back a thumbs-up. I don’t have the heart to tell him that no one sends those anymore unless you’re fifty and over. And if you do, you sound like a dick.

I look down the hallway to find her door closed. The me that was trying to push her away would leave without saying anything. But I’m not that guy anymore, and I need her to see that.

Heading down the hallway, I debate on not knocking. And again, the old me wouldn’t have. I’m not a naive fucker. I know I have a lot of asshole traits. I see one of my best friends, Logan, and I wish I were more like him. But, hey, he had a normal childhood, and I had … well, the opposite.

Holding my fist up, I hit the door a few times and stand there. She doesn’t answer. After waiting a full minute, I gradually push the door open to find her asleep on the bed. Her face is red and blotchy, so I know she’s been crying. The last thing I want to do is leave her when she’s clearly upset, but I can’t avoid Coach. I need to make a game plan on what this season could potentially look like.

Taking a few steps toward her, I take the throw blanket from the end of the bed and pull it over her body before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I love you, baby,” I whisper and step back.

Heading back to the kitchen, I find a piece of paper and scribble a note on it so that when she wakes up, she won’t thinkI just took off after what we did. We need to talk more, but every time we start to get it all out in the open, she ends up bolting from me.

Went for a ride with Coach. Be back in a bit.

—K

P.S. I love you. And I meant what I said. All of it.

When I go back into the guest room to put the note on the nightstand, I stop in disbelief when I see Ted is curled up next to her legs. That cat likes me, but no one else. Even in the time Paige has been here, the damn cat has barely come out.

I set the note down and head out the door to get this talk with Coach over with.

Coach takes a sip from his coffee and looks around the Starbucks that we randomly pulled into instead of us driving around.

“This coffee is shit,” he grumbles. “I don’t know why Meghan is so obsessed with this place. Dunkin’ is better.”

I chuckle lowly as he talks about his wife because the man would jump through fire for that woman. “I wouldn’t be a good one to judge. I don’t drink coffee, but Paige loves this place.” I shrug, holding up my strawberry refresher thing I ordered because Paige always used to get them for me. “These aren’t bad though.”

He sits back in his seat, eyeing me over. “So, Paige is back home? Is that just for your recovery, or … is she back for good?”

“I hope for good. But time will tell, I suppose,” I utter. “I don’t know how I let shit get this bad between us. Especially when …the entire time, all I had to do was fucking talk. Instead, I chose the coward’s way out and pushed her until she broke.” I sigh. “If she chooses to leave in ten days, I won’t blame her. But, fuck, Coach, I hope she stays.”

“It’s pretty simple really, Kolburne.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re a smart man. You see everything on the ice. You’re a fierce protector, and you throw yourself into harm’s way to keep others safe.” He shrugs his shoulders. “So, save your marriage. And if you don’t know how to do that, I’ll tell you this … don’t give her a single reason to want to leave.”

I shake my head, drumming my fingertips against the table. “I don’t know. You make it sound so easy, but I really, really fucked up.” I swallow. “And the bad part is, she doesn’t even know the worst of it yet.”

My stomach feels sick as I imagine telling her that she’s been blaming herself for not having kids, but it was me, and I kept it from her.

“If she didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have dropped everything to be here for you during this recovery.” He takes another sip of his coffee, scrunching his nose up. “Fucking gross. What’s wrong with our wives?”

“Maybe something’s wrong with us.” I chuckle.

“Smartest thing you’ve said all night, Kolburne,” he says. “Now, let’s talk about hockey.”

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