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Fuck me—when did I get so considerate? A good woman will do that to you. Make you change your habits because you start doing the things that’ll make them want to stay for good instead of just hanging around long enough to get your dick wet.
In other words, I’m so fucking screwed.
The old Reese Dalton is dead.
40
REESE
“This one ain’t my fault, Coach, I swear. Got a police report and everything.”
Coach grumbles on the other end of the line. He doesn’t want to accept the truth: that I was attacked, through no fault of my own, by some crazy bastard outside a bar.
“You didn’t do anything in there to piss someone off? Talk to their girl? Mouth off to the wrong dude?”
“None of that. The rest of the boys were there; they can vouch for me. Honestly, all I did that night was drink and be down in the dumps.”
There’s a beat of silence, like Coach Driscoll is tempted to ask me what had me down. He doesn’t press the situation, surprisingly. He sighs and I can imagine the way he’s running his fingers through his thinning hair. I’ve been the cause of more than one of those bald spots of his.
“I know I’ve messed up in the past. But this is different. This isn’t on me.”
“Whether or not it’s on you is almost irrelevant at this point, Reese. This shit’s all over the news. You have to sit out to make sure your injuries heal. How do I spin this, eh? What with all the nonsense you’ve put this team through?”
Guilt clenches my gut. I force it down. “I get that. Spin it like… I dunno. Just a random mugging. Rich people get mugged all the time.”
“Rich people that are notorious for having fights and getting into trouble?” Driscoll sighs again. “I’ll see what I can do about the bad press. I can’t make any promises. Even if I believe you on this one, ownership is less forgiving. Just do me a favor: for once in your goddamn life, keep your nose clean for a while. You’re like a cat with nine lives, Dalton. But even cats don’t always land on their feet.”
Then he hangs up abruptly.
“Not even a measly little goodbye, huh?” I grumble, pocketing my cell.
I lean against the railing of my balcony. Below me are busy streets spiderwebbing around hulking glass skyscrapers. Car horns echo and every few minutes, I hear the thump and metallic screech of cars ramming into each other. Folks in Texas can’t drive for shit.
“You sound like you need a break.”
I turn around and catch sight of Olivia in the sliding glass doorway. I chuckle. “You have no idea.”
She tilts her head. “Tell me about it,” she prompts.
“Coach called me. He asked about the attack, since news is making rounds, as per usual. And, yanno, I think it wouldn’t matter to me so much—having to sit out until this leg is healed enough to be back on the ice—except his immediate assumption was that I had done something wrong. Like I’d gotten into some fight, or pissed off some guy, and that’s why I got jammed up. It sucks. I’m tired of it.”
Olivia looks at me, just staring. Like her big brown eyes are searching for something in my own. She smiles before stepping close to me. When her fingers touch my cheek, warmth radiates from there.
“It’ll be alright.” Her smile widens. “And when we get it out there why everything has happened, Coach will have nothing to say other than ‘I’m sorry.’ Same with everyone else who ever doubted you. I know, with your history, there’s a lot of assumptions. I… well, I’ve made them myself, haven’t I? But when the truth comes out, it’s different. There’s nothing to do but apologize. So I’m sorry, Reese. I’m sorry for assuming. I’m sorry I made you feel bad. Coach will have that moment, too. They all will.”
Olivia has such a conviction about it. Me? Not so much. “You make it sound like it’s gonna be so easy for them to do it,” I rasp. “Like they’ll just come out with it.”
Olivia laughs and shakes her head. “I never said it would be easy. Just that it’ll happen.” She settles her hand on my chest, right over my heart. “Kinda like us, right? We’ve both apologized for things we’ve done. It’s not easy, but it is the right thing to do.”
I wrap a hand around hers at my chest. I feel those same emotions flooding through me that coursed through my veins last night. Instead of letting myself give into them, I push them down once more. “Sorry” isn’t just a phrase you say; it’s your actions, too.
I gotta show Olivia, not just mumble it.
I grin a little. I know just the thing to get us out of this apartment, away from the bullshit that is life right now.
“You wanna go visit Violet?”
The way that Olivia’s face lights up at the mere suggestion reminds me all over again why I chose her. “This week? Today? Right now?!”
