Page 39 of Face Off
Too calm if you ask me. After Doug and Brooks’ confrontation a month ago, things have been stagnant. There’s a certain tension wafting through the arena, and even though it hasn’t affected the team’s performance on the ice, you can sense the divide.
I guess my father will be finding out about my relationship with Brooks sooner rather than later, if he hasn’t already. Doug has made it pretty clear that he won’t hesitate to tell him about Brooks and me, but I refuse to negotiate with people like him. A slimeball. A real entitled prick. In all the years I’ve known Doug Stevens, he’s been this way. And his desires for wanting me, have always been known. It’s never been a secret. He always made comments when Boyce and I were dating. I needed a‘real man,’he would say. But a real man is the furthest from what Doug Stevens is. Real men work hard for what they achieve in life. Doug has been handed everything on a silver platter. He wouldn’t know what hard work is if it hit him in the ass. Heck, his whole job is because my father is friends with his parents.
“Hey, boss lady. You ready for Arizona this Thursday,” Cassidy says, plopping her ass down in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
Thanksgiving is in four short days; it’s also the same day we play the Arizona Heat. The team I have been dreading since accepting this job. It has nothing to do with working on the holiday. I’ve always worked holidays when I worked at the hospital, but now I get to work holidays and still see Camden before he goes to bed. A benefit to working for my father’s team. In fact, my father values family so much that he has invited all the players’ families to stay in a resort he rented out for the holiday where they won’t only get to attend the game on Thanksgiving night but enjoy a team dinner.
However, none of this is why I’m dreading this trip to Arizona. It’s not the unlimited family time, or the fact that Doug Stevens could unravel all the happiness I’ve been experiencing since I started seeing Brooks. But the idea of seeing Boyce Cameron.
My ex.
The sperm donor who so kindly threw away my son before he was even born.
That’s sarcasm if you couldn’t tell.
I’ve been avoiding the fact that the game against Arizona is quickly approaching for far too long. And now I’m stressed. Working unlimited hours to keep my mind off Boyce possibly seeing Camden and flipping his life upside down.
I glance up from the document I’ve been typing, squaring my shoulders as I speak. “Honest answer?” She shakes her head. “No.”
“Brooks said you were acting all squirrely.”
“I have not. I’ve been compartmentalizing,” I say firmly. “I have a lot of stress. I still don’t know if Doug opened that annoying big mouth of his and told my father about Brooks and me.”
That’s right, Hayley. Put aside your real feelings of stress. I’m sure your father already knows about you and Brooks. He has kissed me before taking the ice before every game since.
“So, it has absolutely nothing to do with seeing Boyce?” She pins me to my spot.
“You’re delusional.”
“No, I just know you well enough to know that you’re inwardly freaking out about running into Boyce.”
“I’m not,” I say, standing from my desk to pack my files away in my bag. “He made it pretty clear that he wanted nothing to do with me and Camden, and he’s made sure of it. He’s engaged, Cass, so there’s nothing to really fret over.”
Sure, there is. Boyce could magically decide he now wants to be a part of Camden’s life. Take me to court for custody. So many things could happen. Yet, nothing at all could happen. He could just ignore me like he did once before when Camden was first born.
“We’ll see about that.”
???
“Mom, can I sit next to Brooks on the bus ride to the resort?” Cam asks, jumping off the bottom step of the metal stairs leading to the tarmac.
We’ve just landed in Arizona, two days before the game so everyone can settle in. Plus, it’s a holiday, and holiday travel isthe worst. We walk toward the team bus with our carry on as the bus attendant loads our main bags underneath the bus. Brooks made it a point to sit next to Camden and me on the flight to Arizona. My father’s usual smug stare wasn’t present, even after he spotted us sitting next to one another on the plane. He simply nodded in our direction before taking a seat next to my mother.
Yeah, weird. I know.
“Sure, you can,” Brooks says as he follows us closely, his hand on the small of my back. “As long as I get to have you all to myself in my bed later,” he whispers in my ear before allowing me to get on the bus, my body heating with excitement.
The ride to the resort is short, and once room assignments are handed out, we all disperse. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that my parents have booked a private villa for us right next to theirs. I suppose it’s to keep an eye on me and not Camden. Regardless, the resort is beautiful despite the hot Arizona sun beaming down on us as we walk the wooden walkway lined with meticulously groomed shrubbery and cactuses native to the region.
“Hayley,” my father calls from behind. “We’ll be having dinner tonight with Doug and his parents. I expect you to be there with Camden.”
I roll my eyes. “Is that a request or am I being told I have to be there regardless?”
“It’s a must. Bottom line you are to attend,” he says, turning to the entrance of his villa. “Doug is a good man, Hayley. He’s the type of man you should be with.” With that said, he opens the door and enters the villa, leaving me annoyed that he would even think Doug Stevens is the guy for me.
If he heard the vile things that man has said to me, he would have an entirely different opinion. Not to mention hemay be on the hunt for a new head coach if I let spill what had happened. Inwardly groaning, I open the door to the villa. Camden takes off toward the rooms, finding his and jumping on the bed like he’s in a bouncy castle. The villa is gorgeous. White and cream fill the space, giving off a day spa vibe. It’s tranquil. Relaxing. But so not kid friendly. I cringe thinking about how much of a mess Camden could make in this place in such a short period of time.
“Camden. Feet off the bed,” I say as my phone chimes with a message.
