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“Is that what you want?” I hold my breath, fearing the answer I already know is coming.
“God, no.” He looks away, fists clenching. “Hockey is my reality.”
“Then fight for it,” I say.
“Fight? Like you don’t think I’ve tried?” His laugh is hollow. “You have no idea what it’s like.”
I step closer, close enough to see the pulse throbbing in his neck. “So, tell me.”
“Every conversation … a battle. Every dinner … a strategy session. I’m tired of rehashing the same fight.” For a moment, his façade cracks, and I glimpse the boy behind the captain’s mask. And holy shit, seeing him raw and exposed does things to me. Every piece of vulnerability displayed across his face pulls my heartstrings, and I want … no, Ineedto make him feel better.
“Blake, I—” The words stumble, unsure where to land.
“Look, I don’t mean to unload my baggage on you, but”—confusion swirls in his eyes as those deep blues burrow into my greens—“you’re so easy to talk to.”
I stop breathing and press my fists against my thighs. My hands itch to pull him for a hug. That’s what a friend would do, right? Offer comfort when they’re in pain.
And Blake is clearly hurting.
“I don’t understand why he insists on you working there. The company obviously does well without you. Couldn’t he find someone to step in while they go on vacation?”
Blake’s eyes turn cold as his knee bends, and he rests his foot against the wall. “You’re looking at the future CEO of the Morton Textile Incorporation.”
“Wait, what? You’re supposed to be the future CEO? What about hockey?”
“I became heir to the company the moment I was conceived.” He clutches the collar of his shirt and tips his head skyward. “I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“I don’t understand. We have free will.” I know our situations are different, but I’d still be in Boston cleaning rich people’s houses like my grandma and mother had I listened to societal norms. The struggle is real, but I’m doing what I want. Surely, he can do the same.
“Not in the Morton family.”
“But what about your sister? She’s the one with the MBA. Besides, she’s older. Shouldn’t the title be hers, anyway?”
His laugh holds no humor. “I’m sure you can figure out the reason behind overlooking her.”
Rage boils my blood, but I suppress the urge to hit something, choosing to cross my arms instead. “Let me guess. Wrong chromosome?”
He nods and lets out a long sigh. “It’s part of some long-standing tradition from when my great-grandfather started the company. He passed the company down to his only son. Then my grandpa passed it down to my dad.”
“And the tradition lives on through you?” I guess.
“It pisses me off. Not only is Emily better positioned, but I know shit about the company, even after interning there every summer since junior high. It’s fucking draining. But when I’m on the ice? I feel alive. I have all this talent and love playing. My mom could see that when I was five years old.”
“Then why doesn’t she stop it? Why not stand up to him and?—”
“She has. She’s the reason for the three-year agreement.” He shoves off the wall. “Should’ve gotten it in writing. Rookie mistake.”
“What’s involved?”
“Once I got drafted by the Maine Pine Skaters, Mom went to battle for me. Dad wanted me to attend Stanford, like Emily, but Cessna U was the better fit. They were vying for acceptance into Division I, which they finally approved. Dad protested at first. He didn’t want me sacrificing my college degree for playing games.”
I remain quiet, listening as he rants.
“But then the deal was struck. I’d get my business degree from Cessna U, and if the Pines’ offer were still valid, I’d sign with them and play out my three-year contract. I’d join the business after the contract was fulfilled.” He lets out a disgruntled huff. “I don’t know where this sudden need to travel is coming from. He has never expressed interest in traveling before.”
“I’m sorry.” My apology feels insignificant, but I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked that this talented man, who I thought owned the world by the balls, can’t fulfill his dream.
“Eh, it’s just another stumbling block. I’m a Morton. I’ll persevere.” And just like that, he hardens, and the cocky captain is back. But for a moment, the veil was lowered, and I glimpsed a man struggling with life, just as me, but in a different sense. “I’ll win the shoot-off, and he’ll honor his word. That I fucking guarantee.”
