Page 62 of The Rookie
Saint grins at me. “Let’s go have some fun.”
An hour later, we take the ice. Damn, it feels good to be back. Even better than I anticipated.
My legs feel good, and I’m alert and ready. Maybe my time away was just the break I needed.
I make my way down the ice, remembering the things Summer told me.Be ready and aware, and expect things not to go my way.I know I won’t lose my cool if they do.
In fact, when a young defenseman pushes me up against the boards during a power play, I only laugh and skate away.
“Try harder next time!” I call out to him with a smirk. The confused look on his face is priceless.
Throughout the game, I keep my head clear and myself calm through the nerves and pressure, and in the end? We manage to pull off a win against Los Angeles, and I’m on top of the world.
After the game, my phone blows up with messages, missed calls from my mom and grandpa, and a string of texts from my brothers.
But there’s nothing from Summer. It hurts more than I expected it to.
I head home to my condo, only fifteen minutes from the arena. The entire drive there, I mentally list all the reasons why I shouldn’t be the one to contact Summer. I’ve wanted to call or text her a thousand times since she left Colorado.
But she made her feelings clear, didn’t she?
The next day, I’m scheduled to fly to Toronto with the team for a series of games in Canada. I’m busy, and it’s good to be back, but it’s also been harder than I thought because I can’t stop thinking about Summer. I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing. Working, maybe? Although, it’s a Saturday, so for her sake, I hope not.
One thing is certain—she’s not surrounded by a big, loud team or an overbearing family. She’s all alone. And the idea of an incredibly sweet woman like Summer being alone doesn’t sit right with me. My mom’s right in thinking Summer won’t stay single forever.
• • •
By the time we deplane the next day, the guys have come up with a plan.
Saint and Alex drag me off to the hotel bar with the excuse of grabbing a soda, but really, I think it’s just a pretext for wanting to check up on me. Things have been busy with my return—I’ve jumped right in and haven’t had the chance to really talk with them. Not about things other than hockey, anyway.
I have a sinking feeling I’m about to get grilled. Turns out, I’m right.
As soon as we’re seated with drinks in front of us, Saint turns to me. “What’s your deal, man?”
It’s not the smoothest sentence that’s ever been uttered, but hockey players aren’t known for their sensitivity.
My eyebrows shoot up. “My deal?”
Saint shrugs. “Yeah, your ... situation. Everything okay now?”
I relax a little, realizing his intentions are good. He’s just worried about me, I guess, and this is his way of showing it. When my gaze moves to Alex, I can see the same look of worry reflected in his eyes too. It’s more touching than I expected to realize my teammates have been worried about me.
For some reason, my mind snags on a memory of Summer. She told me once that I’m lucky I have so many people who care about me.
“Everything’s ...” I want to sayokay, but the word won’t come out. It gets stuck in my throat and doesn’t budge. After several seconds of awkward silence, I finally manage to string a few words together. “I don’t know, to be honest.”
Saint nods. “That’s fair.”
“Your family? Your mom? How are they?” Alex asks.
I let out a slow exhale. “My dad’s departure has left a huge hole in my family, and it’s ...” I pause and draw another breath. “Well, it’s going to take some time.”
The guys nod.
“But that’s not what’s bothering you?” Saint asks.
I shake my head. When did hockey players get so perceptive? “Not really, no.”
