Page 126 of Rebel Bride
Was that what I was doing? Falling back on my usual patterns? Finding excuses to not be with Hatch because I was scared of being hurt? As each hurdle fell, I seemed determined to find another to take its place.
Summer runs again. That’s what Hatch had said, and part of me agreed.
The problem was I couldn’t trust my instincts. Scrappy little Shelby Mae would know what to do, but Summer was too much of a coward.
Chapter Forty-One
Hatch
* * *
I had spent the last six weeks of the summer following in my sister’s wanderlust footsteps: Split, Brasov, Helsinki, Edinburgh. I left Summer alone, except for a couple of cheese deliveries, but Addy kept me informed. She was smashing it in her internship as I knew she would.
By the time training camp was ready to start, I was determined to put my best skate forward. New season, new teammates, new attitude. I was even feeling magnanimous toward Carter who had moved on in a public way. Summer had to have known that—it was all over the tabloids—and the fact she didn’t reach out to me hurt. I understood the obstacles, but that didn’t make being apart from her any easier.
On day one of training camp, Carter blew into the locker room like he’d just landed in his family’s private jet, high-fiving everyone in his path. “Hey KJ, how was your summer?”
“Not as good as yours.”
“Yeah, you saw that? Definitely leveling up.”
“Glad to see you’re back in the game, man.”
“Fuck, yeah. Now let’s skate!”
So, we did, and I wondered if what had happened between Summer and me in Saugatuck was merely some hazy dream. I wanted to hold on to everything: that first kiss, parking at the lake, cheese nights and summer breezes. But the longer we stayed apart, the more those memories faded and the dimmer my hopes became.
Training camp provided a semi-decent distraction. It was nice not to feel like a Rebels rookie anymore, and hanging with the guys made me realize how much I’d missed people, especially goofs like Boden and Dingaling. I also missed my dad’s energy in the locker room. He was finally taking a well-earned rest while he contemplated next steps. But it was great to be playing on the same team as my uncle. Jason was so solid in the back third and having him in my life on a more regular basis was going to do great things for my mental health.
Because, fuck, I needed it.
I needed my support system. My family. My people. Most of all, I needed Summer.
I wondered who had her back. Was she getting what she needed in Rockford? She didn’t know anybody there but maybe that was how she liked it. Lone-wolfing it to prove she could. At least she had Rosie and Addy checking in.
On the last day of camp, we had just finished up a hard session. I had felt really good out there, like things were connecting. Someone must have run some analysis because Coach didn’t put me on the same line as Carter. (Did I dare hope that Summer had provided her reports about me to the coaching staff? You bet I did.)
Instead of Carter, I ran with Gaultier and a new kid called Asher, which sounded like a name you gave a supermodel. As for C-Dog himself, he might have been enthusiastic at the beginning of training camp, but there was only so far that would take him. It looked like he’d drunk a bit too much tequila and eaten a few too many of his personal chef’s French meals over the break. He came out slow and never really skated his way into form. Sixty guys were fighting for a place on the roster, and I had to wonder if Carter would make the cut.
While the team player in me worried about that, the lovelorn idiot in me didn’t mind at all.
Back in the locker room, I took a seat on the bench ready to untie my skates. My head was down and the only reason I looked up was because a shadow fell over me.
The punch, when it came, hurt like a mother.
I held my jaw and took a good look at a wild-eyed Carter, who loomed over me with his fist clenched and cocked, ready for another. Slow on the ice didn’t translate to slow in the locker room, evidently.
“You fucking asshole. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
I had no idea what exactly he knew or how he knew it. I wasn’t going to deny it, though. If anything, it was a relief.
“This isn’t about you, Carter.”
“Oh, really? You’ve been screwing my girl for fuck knows how long and it’s not about me?”
“Could we talk about this in private?”
“No, we cannot.” He lunged at me, only to be restrained by Jason.
