Page 128 of Face Off
“What’s going on?” I ask, and my heart rate kicks into overdrive.
“The Wildebeests just handed us their final roster for the game.” Piper brings her chin up and looks at me. “They called up Cole Meyers from their AHL affiliate, and he’s playing tonight.”
The world stops spinning.
I grip the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turn white. My breath stutters in my chest, and I almost topple over.
We all have a relationship we wish we could take back. The one we’d do over and warn our past selves to steer clear of.
Cole Meyers is mine.
I met him when we played for the ECHL’s Nashville Bulls four years ago. He was a late-season addition, a trade acquisition from Philadelphia, and I was immediately drawn to him.
He’s the kind of guy everyone likes. His personality dominates a room, and he’s always the center of attention. A crowd favorite and a real charmer, he knows how to make people laugh.
His blond hair makes him look like he belongs out in California catching waves instead of being on the ice, and with blue eyes and a kind smile, I fell for him.
I fell for himhard.
I’d dated other men before, but I thought Cole was going to be the one.
Everything was great our first year together. We fell into a routine between practice and games and picking out plants for my apartment. I talked about him moving in. He talked about rings. A wedding in a field or a ceremony on the beach.
The stupid things we say when we’re in love.
After a stretch of games where his performance was off and he had trouble controlling his temper, he got moved to the second line, then the third.
I took his spot as a starter, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
In front of people, we were fine. A perfect couple living out their dreams.
When we were alone and no one could hear him, it was a different story.
You know Coach only moved you up because he wants to sleep with you, not because you have any actual talent.
The only reason you have a position on this team is because management likes your tits.
Did you know there’s a running joke in the locker room about who you’re going to have a gang bang with? Sometimes I tell our teammates I’ll sneak them over when you’re asleep. Maybe let them lift up your shirt and take a peek.
Bile rises in my throat.
I don’t know why I stayed another six whole months after that.
Maybe I got caught up trying to justify his behavior. Maybe it became so normal to hear those things, I started to think they were true.
It wasn’t until I watched him give his number to a fan at one of our games that finally broke me out of that horrible spell. I wanted out, and two weeks later, I was in San Diego.
“When did this happen? Last I checked, he was in Utah.”
“He was, until the Wildebeests lost a winger after a Christmas ski accident that left him with a broken arm, and Cole got called up.” Piper steps toward me. “Are you okay?”
No.
I’m not okay.
A month after I landed in San Diego, I found out he had been promoted to the AHL.
There was so much relief. I’d never have to see him again. I wouldn’t have to skate past him and tune out the things he said under his breath. I could pretend that part of my life never happened.
