Page 83 of Face Off
Shit. This isn’t about the game; it’s a lynching for hurting Hayley.
“Sir…”
“I’m not finished, Miller,” he says, standing and making his way to the front of the desk. “See, not many people know who Hayley really is. Only the staff who have worked for the Skipjacks before she was born know who she is. Not even the media know who she is, and there’s a reason for that, but that’s not my story to tell. But what I will tell you is that Hayley would never deliberately lie to anyone or put someone’s career on the line. I know she withheld information from you.”
“Yeah, kind of a big deal to make up a fake last name and deceive everyone,” I say in a sarcastic tone.
He takes a seat in the chair next to me. “You’re missing the point. And for the record, Marshall is her mother’s maiden name. Not made up. What would you do to protect the ones you love?”
Well, that’s a loaded question, isn’t it? I would do anything to protect Sydney and Everleigh, even Hayley and Camden. Is he insinuating that Hayley lied because her family was in some kind of trouble?
“Before you ask, the Richards are not in any type of trouble. Point is, if you answered the last question I asked you and included Hayley and Camden in your answer, then the point is you need to fix it. Hear her out.”
That’s what I was planning on doing before she left without letting me apologize for my outburst. Now I doubt she’ll see me.
“How?” I ask him as if he now holds all the answers.
He stands from his chair, making his way to the door. “You’ll figure it out. Now get to the shower and into the team suite. You’re expected to be watching the last of the game so wecan prepare for Game 7 if we can’t pull our head out of our asses tonight.”
Just as quick as the conversation started, he leaves. Leaving me with more questions than answers, but I get his point. I had my head in my ass.
Guess it’s time to pull it out.
I walk into the team booth with no expectations. I glance down at the team bench, trying to catch a glimpse of Hayley, but she’s not there. Disappointment fills me, knowing that I’m the reason she’s gone. Looking at the rows of seats, I see Cassidy sitting alone, messing with her iPad. Like a man on a mission, I take a seat next to her, startling her as I clear my throat.
“Where is she, Cass?” My tone comes out more demanding than I intended.
She slinks back, giving me a look, asking if I’m serious. I know she knows what happened, so I’m ready for what she has to say. “And what makes you think I’ll tell you where she went? You’ve done a knockout job at breaking her already fragile heart, again might I add.”
God, I really am an ass.
The idea of Hayley sitting at home heartbroken, rather than here in my arms, where she should be truly guts me. I know I have a lot of groveling to do, and you better believe I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to be with her and Camden again.
“Please,” I say in a softer tone, shrinking just a little. “I know I fucked up. I reacted like a caveman when Boyce started his taunts, then a prick when I found out who she really is.”
She eyes me suspiciously, a small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. “Okay. I’ll help you, but I don’t know what you expectme to do. She told me she’s done, with the Skipjacks, Seattle, everything. I’m supposed to have her back on this.”
“Seriously?”
“What, she’s been my best friend since pre-k. Sandbox love never dies. Not even for Brooks Miller,” she says, turning her focus back to the game.
I watch play on the ice unfold as I think of how to get Hayley to talk to me. It shouldn’t be rocket science. I should just show up at her house and force her to talk to me. But that could only cause more drama, come to think of it. I need something big. A grand gesture to show her I’m here to listen, and I’m done running away.
I need her and Camden, like fries need ketchup. Yeah, I know I’m cheesy, but it’s true. Time has proved again and again.
The game clock ticks down, the Skipjacks scrambling to score two more goals to tie the game, yet it looks like we’ll be short. With twenty seconds left on the game clock, I know we’ll be heading to Arizona for the last final game of the season, which means I need to think of something and fast to get my head back in the game.
“Convince her to come to Arizona for the finals,” I say in a pleading tone.
“I don’t know if she’ll go for that, Brooks. She was pretty adamant,” she says, standing to pack her belongings as the buzzer signals the end of the game.
I look down at the ice and watch the guys skate off with their heads hanging low as the Heat celebrate on the visiting bench. God, we need to pull through in two days and end this once and for all. The Skipjacks are the better team, with chemistry that’s off the charts. Kind of like Hayley and me.
“What am I supposed to say to convince her to come? I can’t just say, ’Hey, Brooks wants to talk to you. You should hear him out.’ That goes against sandbox love,” she says, swinging her bag over her shoulder.
She starts to walk to the exit of the suit when I grab onto her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. “Tell her it’s for the team. For her father. For your wedding. I don’t know. Just nothing to do with me. I’ll handle those logistics once we’ve landed.”
Cassidy lets out a deep breath, opening and closing her mouth a few times before speaking again. “Okay. But you better grovel, and I mean I better hear that you were on your knees, groveling at her feet. This goes against all sandbox love logic, so you owe me big time.”
