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It’s terrifying.
Beside me, Cruz stands, as does the rest of the team. We are all dressed in our game-day suits, all imposing and massive. I’m proud of these men. We are working for our dreams. But my mind isn’t even here. It’s back in the shop, Louisa in my chair, her most delectable bits on display for all my desires to be fulfilled. I’d make her laugh. I’d make her scream. I’d make her mine. Shit, I should have called. But to say what?
I had a great time, but I could fall for you and then I’d be fucked when you broke up with me because you found someone else. Or because I’m going to make it to the NHL. Maybe you just want to fuck without feelings?
But that would be a lie. I can’t just fuck her. I’m already craving the intimacy only she can give me. That sigh, that laugh, those eyes. More. God, I want all of her. I groan inwardly, running my hands along my face, wishing I were anywhere but here.
Wishing that when I looked out into the crowd, I saw her face.
Damn it all to hell.
“You good, dude?”
I look over to meet Cruz’s concerned gaze. I’m always so taken back by his suited form. He looks professional, but more like a mob boss than a goalie. Like me, Cruz is super tall, built like an ox. But unlike me, his whole torso and neck are covered in tattoos.
“You look like you’re going to be sick.”
I bet I do. No sleep, horny, and having a mental battle the equivalent of WWII—yeah, I’m sure I look peachy. “I’m fine.”
He cups my shoulder. “You’re going to be a great captain.”
Of course he thinks that’s what’s wrong with me since that’s what should be going through my head. Nerves and fear about leading a team. But I feel none of that. I’m excited, and I’m ready to captain this team to the championship. If I get called up before then, that would be awesome, but I plan to take this role seriously. I want to be the best first captain in history and set the bar high. I know I will, but instead of thinking of my new title or that I’m in a room full of press ready to hear from me, I’m pining over a girl I shouldn’t be.
“Thanks, Cruz.”
“You sure that’s all?” he asks, quietly and only for me.
I nod. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind.”
“I heard you on the phone. Please tell me it isn’t Mikayla.”
My chest tightens at her name. I thought I would hate her forever, but I don’t. I am thankful for the good times, but if I never saw her again, I’d consider it a miracle. “She was asking my mom about me, but Mom shut her down.”
“Thank Jesus.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Then what is it? You’re acting weird, bro.”
I swallow hard. “I met someone.”
When he doesn’t comment, I look over at him to see him watching me with concern in his eyes.
“Sorry. You don’t meet girls. You hook up.”
I’d laugh if I had it in me. He isn’t wrong at all. “Yup. Lots on my mind.”
He blows out a breath through his teeth, making a whistling sound. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Neither was I,” I admit, shuffling my feet to shake out the nerves. “So, my thoughts are a bit jumbled.”
He nods slowly. “The best ones do that to you.”
Cruz doesn’t struggle with relationships. He’ll jump into one really quick, and he doesn’t let each one that crashes and burns ruin him. I envy him for that. I wish I could just jump in with no cares, but all I can think of is the pain that Mikayla caused me. The betrayal. The loss. They’re all things I don’t ever want to experience again.
Fuck, I’m a lost cause.
“It could be good.”
