Page 94 of Dirty Pucking Player

I rub at my eyes. “Now, why would she go and do something stupid like that?”

“Probably because she knew I might be the only one who could talk you into going.”

I snort and lie back on the bed to stare at the white ceiling high above me.

Children screaming in the background has me pulling the phone from my ear. I love Bradley and Ivy, but Christ, those kids have some lungs on them.

“Hold on a second. I need to step outside where we won’t be interrupted by a toddler.” He opens and shuts a door. “Look, Bash. I know you. You’re gonna do whatever you want to do, no matter what I say. But you need to have some perspective here.” He releases a deep sigh. “I, of all people, understand the relationship, or lack thereof, you have with him. But I also know what it’s like to lose somebody without the chance to say goodbye, without the chance to clear the air and tell them how you really feel. I know what it’s like to carry that guilt.”

My chest tightens.

Lisa.

Her death affected all of us in different ways, including me, but it almost destroyed Caleb. He cared about that girl, maybe even loved her as much as a high schooler can love someone, and he carried the guilt of her death for far too long.

“I don’t want you to have any regrets, Bash. I don’t want you to look back in twenty years when you have kids and wish there were things that you could’ve said to him. That’s all I’m saying. If you think you can live with never seeing him again, with never clearing the air and telling him how you feel, then great, maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am. But experience tells me otherwise.”

I scrub my hand over my face and pinch the bridge of my nose to stop the headache pounding against my skull. “I just want to go home, man, back to my condo in Chicago for a little fucking peace and quiet. I just want some time.”

“If that’s what you need, then take it. But just remember there’s a clock ticking in Michigan. You don’t know how much time he has.”

No, I don’t. And while the thought of living in a world without Mike Fury has crossed my mind over the years, I never really considered what I want to say to him. Now, Caleb’s words are bringing up years’ worth of memories and anger. None of it makes me want to jump on a plane to Michigan.

“I’ll think about it, Caleb.”

“All right, man. You know I’m here if you need to talk again.”

“I know. Thanks, bud.”

“You’re welcome. So, how did you leave things with Greer now that the season is over?”

I snort and shake my head. “Well, the GM found out about us.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.” I sit up and sip my scotch. “He called us into his office and said both of our heads are essentially on the chopping block. We told him it was over, but he didn’t make a decision, just said he’s going to have to think about it.”

“Fuck. So, you might get traded?”

“Yup.”

“And she might get fired.”

A strange pain hits my stomach, and it’s not from the booze. “Yeah. She might.”

And the thought of her losing her job and this opportunity all because I pushed her into something she was never totally comfortable with brings up all sorts of guilt I never thought I’d feel over my relationship with her.

“So, what are you hoping for, man? That you stay or she does? Is it really over between you two?”

“Jesus, Caleb. I don’t fucking know.”

I don’t know anything anymore.

* * *

GREER

Jill stares at me from over the rim of her wine glass as she downs the last sip. “Are you going to get fired?”

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