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Boston’s GM had pulled him out of a downward spiral. He’d shown up at the rink, taken him out for lunch, and talked to him about his potential and how to overcome the destructive chatter in his head. From the moment Cole signed with the Brawlers, he’d worked his ass off to live up to the potential they’d seen in him.
He’d come a long way—and now, he’d won two Cups and would bring home a third this season. “But you know I can’t do that.” His teammates relied on him. He was their captain. “Besides, you couldn’t afford me.”
“You’re right about that.” Focused on the ice, Declan tracked his left forward. “Not when Kurt gave massive contracts to Olinsky, Traeger, and Herr. But once those contracts are up, we’ll be going in a different direction.”
“We’re building the dream team.” Jaime grinned.
“Man, Kurt would be so damn happy to see you two working together.” He’d found them when they were kids tearing up his land and turning it into a dirt bike course. Instead of punishing them, he’d asked their parents if he could teach them hockey. The guys had been so good, Kurt wound up starting an elite training center and then buying a professional team. All for them.
“He wants us all together,” Jaime said.
But Cole didn’t miss the way Declan dropped his gaze to his hands. Out of all of them, he’d been the closest to their former coach. He’d taken the loss hard. “Must be tough living in that house without him.”
“Nah. Not with Phinny there.” Declan grinned in a way Cole had never seen before. “Life’s pretty good with her around.” It was the bone-deep satisfaction of a man in love and living his best life.
That kind of love… It wasn’t something Cole could relate to. Sure, he had an indestructible bond with his dad. His last nanny thought fondly of him. His teammates respected him. Women seemed to like him.
But he couldn’t relate to the kind of love Declan and Phinny had, the kind that made a man secure in the knowledge that he was safe and didn’t have to turn himself inside out to earn it.
And the one woman he could possibly love like that, he couldn’t have. Even though Hailey had changed her view of him, the only thing that tied them together were those girls. They took precedence.
But he was okay with being alone.
Well, he’d been more okay before he’d found Hailey again.
“Speaking of the dream team.” Jaime had a gleam in his eyes. “You’ll never guess who reached out to us.” He waited a beat before dropping the name. “Ross LaRoux.”
“No shit?” Ross was one of the best goalies in the league.
“Right? We’re in talks with him.”
“How’d that happen?” And then it clicked. “Wait, isn’t Booker his agent?” A spark of excitement got his blood pumping. Most good teams had a couple of superstars on pricey contracts, a core of good and appropriately paid players, a few players on rookie contracts, and a few underpaid vets who wanted to chase the Cup.
Ross, on the other side of his career, wanted it. And the fact that Booker would bring him to the Renegades could only mean one thing.
The missing piece of their four-link chain wanted to reconnect.
Could that mean he possibly forgave Cole?
“Seems like he’s invested in Kurt’s team, after all,” Jaime said.
“Have you talked to him since the funeral?” Declan asked.
“Me? No. Why would I?”
“Because you two need to have a conversation,” Declan said.
“We tried, remember? He ran off.” The four of them had met for a barbecue at Jaime’s ranch, but the second they’d brought up that horrible night, Booker had excused himself to hit the head, and he’d never come back.
“Which is the point.” Declan rubbed his jaw. “Until we talk about that night, we’re never going to get past what happened. It’s this heavy cloud hanging over all of us. And I just think him bringing a player like Ross to a team that’s never won a Cup?” He shrugged. “He might be ready now.”
“He’s reached out to you guys. Not me. And I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to talk to the man who killed my shot at the big show.”
“I don’t get why you carry all the blame,” Declan said. “What was so different about that night? I can’t think of a single time we got together when it didn’t turn into night skiing or BASE jumping or some fucked-up shit like that.”
“Except that night, everyone was already in bed.” He should’ve been excited to join the Renegades the next day. Instead, he’d been anxious, and Jaime’s text had been a relief. “We were all packed and ready to go. If I hadn’t stolen my dad’s plane, it never would’ve happened.”
“Not true. Jaime’s the one who got bad news and asked if we could come over. He’s the one who got us all out of bed. So, is it his fault?”
