Page 6 of Just One Season
“What do you mean you talked to him?” Dread creeps up my spine.
My teammate Lachlan—Canadian born but grew up in Australia and has the accent and dual citizenship to prove it—had sent me a link to the picture that started my troubles. It appeared on a hockey gossip website called NHL Tea. The defenseman loves to immerse himself in all the hockey gossip, on our team or off. He was practically giddy.
The zoomed-in cell phone picture, taken from across the room, was of me and Savannah sitting close together at one of the side bars of the venue. She had her hand on my forearm and was leaning close to my ear.
Fuck me.
I get how it looked in the picture. Bad.
But I know exactly what she was saying at that moment. She was telling me how she wants to take the bar exam for Colorado, but Paul isn’t supportive. The woman is studying behind her husband’s back, and I was trying to be encouraging and kind. It’s nuts that she has to study law in secret, like it’s something to be ashamed of.
Unfortunately, Paul holds the puppet strings on my life here.
It drives me crazy that anyone even cares about pictures of hockey players. And there was no context to the image—the entire team and administration were wandering around that place. Weweren’t on some romantic date. We weren’t in private or even close to alone.
“I mean, he saw the picture somehow. But I told him we are just friends, and…” she pauses at the look on my face. This woman truly doesn’t understand the problem.
I groan. “Maybe it’d be best to not talk to him about it. And I’m really sorry, but we should keep our distance for a while.”
The picture’s been posted for about a week and seems to have stopped at that trashy website. I’m praying it doesn’t get picked up anywhere else.
But now I’m on Paul’s shit list, and that is not a place anyone wants to be. Anyone who wants to keep playing for the FoCo Blizzard, at least.
Savannah’s face crumples. I feel terrible doing this to her.
“But you’re basically the only one on the team who will talk to me anymore.” She reaches out and touches my forearm, her face soft and vulnerable.
“Sorry, Savannah.” How do I explain this to her? That a friendship with her isn’t worth it to any of us if it puts our spot on the team in danger? I gently pull my arm away. I’d be happy to be her friend under almost any other circumstances.
But not this one.
It doesn’t matter that I’m the team captain or how many goals I score. I know my spot on the team is now at risk.
I’m only in my early thirties, but they could replace me with a cheaper version. A younger one.
Savannah sighs and looks absolutely crestfallen.
“I have to get home to my daughter.” I back up a step.
It’s true. Ava is sleeping at her mother’s tonight, and Bri lives next door in one of the houses I own on my block. I’ll stop by and say goodnight when I get home. It’s less than two weeks until pre-season games start, and once the season is in full swing, I’ll be on the road all the time.
I hate being away from Ava. It’s a group effortraising any kid, but it’s even harder with a job like mine. What helps is having Bri live next door, plus we have a full-timeandpart-time nanny. And we’re still overwhelmed at times. That phrase about how it takes a village? It’s so true.
And with Ava’s history, what she’s been through… and therefore what Bri and I have been through? We’re all still dealing with that trauma.
“Savannah.” Paul’s tight voice pulls me out of my head. He’s now standing right behind Savannah.
Fuck.
“I’m done. Let’s go.” He sounds annoyed.
At her.
At me.
The man has never been overly friendly, but he didn’t used to glare at me. Nope. That’s new.
I raise a hand to Paul. He nods and walks past Savannah, assuming she’ll follow.
