Page 13 of Love You Already

She's part of the reason I've decided to do something different during the break. Instead of vacationing on a tropical island or drowning myself in women and beer, I'm choosing to allow myself the space to relax a bit more. I had my travel agent find small towns in the area, something that was close enough for an emergency but far enough away that I could feel disconnected from the city. He came back with three options, and I chose the first because of the name only.

Firefly Cove. A great place for me to relax as I reminisced about my Ace, Rose.

Something about that night with her really twists me up. The memories are somewhat blurry around the edges, which gives it all this glowing feel as if I'm romanticizing it. Am I though?

We definitely had a connection. And the sex was smoking hot. Like best-of-my-life type of fucking. But there was more too. We laughed together. We shared our dreams and hopes of the future, though we did it vaguely. I never once told her I played professional hockey. It would have shattered the bubble of anonymity we had around us. Plus, some women get weird about it.

I'm so lost in my thoughts of Rose that I don't realize the rest of the team has arrived and the staff is giving their speech until it's a few minutes in. Jolting at the way I've disassociated completely; I rein in my focus to return to the conversation.

We're given the exact information I thought we would be. Behave yourselves. You're a reflection of the organization. Yadda Yadda. I listened through the entire thing despite only about ten percent of it actually applying to me. I wasn't looking to get into any trouble. At most, I was hoping for some small town rest and relaxation before starting a new year with the Coyotes.

They'd signed me for a three-year contract after the mid-season switch. I got the paperwork this morning, and I signed right away, per my agent Todd's insistence. It was the best I was going to get for now. Trying to negotiate would only drag it out. Three more years was plenty of time for me to figure out what would happen after.

When we are finally dismissed, I shake a few hands, pat a few shoulders, then plead out of lunch with Jones to allow me to get on the road. He grins at me as he shakes his head. “Let me get you home, Cinderella, before the excitement wears off.”

I let the teasing slide once he agrees to what I want. The drive to our place, a tower of condos only the mostly high earners can afford, takes about half an hour. Once he parks, I'm out of the car and rushing upstairs.

My bags wait for me in the living room. I'd placed them there earlier for easy access. That way, I'd be able to do one final walkthrough to make sure I have everything I need for the next three months. I'll have to be back in August to begin training again, though I have no true plans of stopping while I'm away either. If there's no gym in Firefly Cove, then I'll just have to build my own. Shouldn't be too hard with the rental I acquired. My travel agent said it had a nice sized garage for me to make use of if I wanted to. Sounds perfect for a gym.

Once I make sure I didn't leave anything I can't replace with a quick grocery trip, I load up my bags into the elevator and head down to my G-Wagon to hit the road. I don't want to waste any more time than the mornings meetings have already cost me.

Leaving for Houston feels... freeing. It's like the weight of the trade and the pressure to perform drift away with each mile.

My phone rings halfway into the eighty-two-mile drive. Todd's name flashes on the dash. I answer through the Bluetooth with a quick, “This is Lachlan.”

“I know it's you, kid. I'm not senile or anything. I can work a smart phone.” His voice comes out sharp and crisp, the same as always. There's not much softness in him, which is fine with me because I don't want soft when talking about my career or my money. I want a shark. Someone who can smell the blood in water and knows to chase until he gets what I — we — want.

“What's the sitch, Todd? I doubt you're calling because you miss me.”

He laughs at the tossed-out joke. “Not quite the reason, no. I'm calling because I got a rather interesting piece of mail sent here for you today. Have you left the city yet?”

“I'm already closer to the town than I am you. Whatever it is, I trust you to handle it.” Or at least I hope you can. That's why I pay you handsomely.

“This isn't something for me to handle,” he says somberly.

I don't usually hear Todd speak this way unless the news is bad. News like getting traded or telling me something big is coming down from upper management to all of us guys, and it's not good. Stricter rules. Longer practices. Shit like that.

“How bad can it be?”

“Depends on how you feel about marriage, kid.”

“It's fine for most people, though I hear the divorce rate these days isn't anything to sneeze at. Congrats I guess?” I'm not sure why him getting married has anything to do with me. It's not really going to affect me unless he's going to be taking a lengthy amount of time off or something.

Todd sighs over the line before saying, “Why are you congratulating me? You're the one that got married.”

Cue record screech.

My heart drops through my body, through the G-Wagon and settles on the asphalt of the highway. I look down to see I'm only going sixty-five miles per hour, yet my body feels like I'm moving at the speed of light.

“What did you just say?” I ask harshly. “Is this some kind of prank for the summer? Har-har. It's not funny, Todd.”

“I'm not joking, Lachlan. You know how I get mail for you?”

“Yeah. All the fan stuff.”

As someone who gets loads of requests from fans, I've always just used Todd's office as my address in any public setting. My personal residence is kept hush hush because sometimes no doesn't get through when someone is eager enough to meet you.

“In the mix with that was a package in a busted up looking envelope labeled out of Vegas from back in December. It looks as if it might have been misplaced or maybe even lost at one point. Damn thing was falling apart,” he grumbles. The sound of papers shuffling around fills the space where he should be telling me what the hell is going on.

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