Page 6 of Whirlwind
All I did was fall for a woman who couldn’t fall for me.
Fucking Freckles.
We connected over her love for hockey. Born and raised Canadian, I’ve known a lot of women who love the game. It was different with Isla, though. The game was like the air in her lungs. Growing up in the industry, she understood me and my crazy schedule. She also had impeccable insight into gameplay, itself. If I was in a rut, she always had some tips to help me out of it. I scored more goals while dating her than any other time in my career.
It’s not lost on me that Cillian Wylder’s game has vastly improved since getting back together with her.
That man has everything I want. A successful career, a smart wife, a great kid, a supportive family. I don’t hate him, but it would be easy to.
Cillian makes her happy. Happier than I ever did, regardless of how hard I tried, or what I would have given to be with her. My love for her lets me admit that. My love for her also feels likethorny rose vines surrounding my heart, serving as a constant reminder that she’ll never be mine.
No matter how many other women I’m with, it’s still her face I see when I fall asleep. Every fucking night. Isla is the ghost that haunts me.
I shake away the melancholy as I walk into the Iceplex. This morning is my first time on the ice with the team, and Coach Cole wants to talk before I suit up for practice. The last thing I need is to be morose when I shake Isla’s dad’s hand. Or her husband’s.
The first person I see is Alexander Fane. Another of my new teammates, and Isla’s best friend. Well, now he’s Isla’s sister’s partner, too. One thing the Seattle franchise seems to do well is keeping it in the family.
“Hey, Tyson. Good seeing you,” he greets, holding the security door that leads to the offices and locker room open for me.
“Thanks, man. Good seeing you, too. I was happy to see that they brought you up.”
Fane was a solid player on Seattle’s WHL team when Isla and I dated. Young and hungry is how I remember him. It didn’t surprise me when the Blades picked him up and developed him on the farm team for a couple of seasons. Fane reminds me of the guys I grew up with, who all believe hockey is life. The race to the NHL was all that mattered.
“How’s the move?”
“No complaints, other than how long it took. Eight days off the ice makes me feel like I’ve retired.”
“I’m sure the guys will put you through the paces this morning,” he says with a wry smile.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“See you in there, man,” he says, patting me on the shoulder before heading into the locker room.
Cillian and I have a rivalry on the ice. At first, it was over Isla. That ended after a season, and now, it’s feigned for the sake of the fans. They love to see it, but neither of us go out of our way to pick a fight with one another. Doesn’t mean we don’t check slightly harder than we should.
That will change, now, for obvious reasons. We’ll need to thoroughly squash any ill feelings because our fans will be looking for it, and cracks within the team shouldn’t be for public scrutiny.
I knock on the coach’s door.
“Tyson Murphy, good to have you,” he says as I walk in.
“Happy to be here,” I lie. Well, half lie. I’d rather be home in Vancouver.
“It’s not easy being traded, especially from home. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“Felt like the rug was pulled out from me, but I’m ready to play. More than ready, antsy.”
“Good, because we need you. Have a seat, let’s chat.” I sit in the chair on the other side of the desk, which is piled with neat stacks of papers. Probably stats on every player in the league. “Haven’t had a conversation since you and Isla called it quits to whatever the two of you were.”
I know where he’s leading. As much as I don’t want to talk about it, there is no avoiding the subject.
“No, sir. Not since before Wylder showed back up.”
“The two of you going to have problems playing on the same team?”
“No, sir.”
“You sure about that? My daughters have earned much respect from this team. Wylder won’t be the only guy to have a problem if you run your mouth.”
