Page 28 of Shoot Your Shot

I open my mouth at the same time her phone rings, startling us both. Letting my hands fall away from her, I take a step back as she pulls her phone out.

She wipes her eyes, holding her phone up. “This is regarding a patient; I need to get this.” She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “And either way, we shouldn’t be doing this right now. You’re recovering.”

As she answers the call, she walks away from me, stopping at the edge of the driveway, and I stand there, stunned and unable to move.

I never gave her the chance to decide to stay or go. I just did what I thought was right. What if, this whole time … I did the wrong thing? And now, it’s too late, and my wife is too far gone.

Just as I start to walk around the gate, Ryder’s truck comes into view, and I curse inwardly when I see he’s got a few of my other teammates with him. Visiting with Amelia is one thing, but I’m not in the mood to answer my teammates’ questions about my recovery. Not right now.

Ryder parks the truck in front of the gate, and the doors open. Ryder, Smith, and Tripp pile out, all looking like they are fresh from practice, their hair still damp, irking me instantly because I’d give anything to fucking be back in that arena. Or to know that, someday soon, I’ll be able to. It’s the unknown that’s fucking killing me.

I should have at least been watching practice all week, but I’m not even cleared to attend practice because the doctor apparently thinks it would bring me stress. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. I know the coaches pulled one of our backup defensemen in to take my place. Harland Clossman is good. He’s young and full of potential. In my mind, he’s probably seeing this as an opportunity to take my spot. And I wouldn’t blame him if that were the truth because, as NHL players, we have to take every opportunity presented.

Even though I fucking hate that.

“Well, there’s our fucking stud muffin,” Smith says, grinning. “Looking better than ever, Kolt K.”

When they walk toward me, I catch Paige eyeing the situation, still on her phone. She turns away when she catches me looking at her.

As he pulls me in for a half hug, he rubs the top of my head before releasing me.

Ryder grabs me. “How are you feeling, ol’ boy?” He pats my shoulder. “You look good.”

“Fuck yeah, he does,” Tripp agrees, coming to my side as Ryder steps back.

“Oh, yeah, I’m just a fucking peach,” I mutter, rolling my eyes before giving Ryder a playful shove to the chest. “The fuck are you doing here anyway? Surely, you fellas got something better to do than visit me.”

“What the fuck would be better than seeing our favorite grumpy asshole?” Smith smirks. “Get better soon though, man. It’s not the same without your grouchy self on the ice.”

“Yeah, way too fucking pleasant,” Tripp says. “Sterns is going to drive us all crazy with his dad jokes now that you aren’t around the keep him at bay.”

“I can imagine,” I say, thinking about how many dad jokes that dude must be rattling off with me gone.

“Leave the man and his dad jokes alone. He went from taking a different girl home every weekend to Daddy Sterns.” Ryder laughs. “If dad jokes make him feel cool, so be it.”

“But it’s too many dad jokes,” I say, shaking my head. “Anyway, how’s practice going? Coach has called a few times, but he’s been vague. Just keeps telling me to focus on my recovery and that my spot will be there when I’m ready to come back.”

“And he’s right.” Ryder nods. “We’ll hold it down, man. We need you. But we need you at one hundred percent, so get better, all right?”

“Doing what I can,” I huff. “But I fucking hate this shit. I feel useless.”

“I fucked my knee up my freshman year of college. Right before my team headed to the Frozen Four,” Tripp says, cringing. “It fucking blew, being that close and then watching it slip away.”

“What’d you do? To make it better before—” I stop, swallowing hard.

“Before you become irrelevant?” Tripp guesses my next words before gripping my shoulder. “That isn’t going to happen, bud. You’re one of the greats. When Coach says your spot will be there when you get back, he means that.”

“Truth,” Ryder says. “And whatever you need from us, you let us know.” He jerks his head toward Paige, dropping his voice lower. “The wifey is helping you recover, huh? Make sure you don’t get that ol’ ticker too worked up … if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off,” I utter just as she starts heading toward us.

It’s plain as day that she’s uncomfortable. For years, she was part of the team family. And now, things are different. And fucking weird. When some of the guys stopped in at the hospital, she made herself scarce. And on the day I left, everything happened so fast because I just wanted to get the hell out ofthere, so she never really saw them either. Well, besides Logan and Amelia. But nothing is weird for Sterns. He’s just … Sterns.

“Paige,” Tripp says, grinning as he heads toward her, pulling her in for a hug. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the hospital. It’s good to see you, girl. How the hell have you been?”

Her cheeks flood with red. “I’ve been great. How are you?” She gives him a quick hug before she releases him. “How’s your sister? I miss seeing her at the games.”

It’s like once she says that out loud, she realizes what she did and looks down for a split second.

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