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Now Bain’s eyebrows move, except now they draw inward with worry. “Why?”
“Because it’s too complicated,” I say with a huge sigh.
“And you’re regretting the decision?” Hendrix asks.
“Yes,” I say, then immediately change my mind. “No. It was the right thing to do.”
Bain scoffs. “Bullshit. If it makes you feel like shit, makes you play like shit, then it wasn’t the right thing.”
“I’ll feel better eventually,” I retort. “I’ll get over it.”
“I’m sorry, buddy,” Hendrix says, squeezing my shoulder.
Bain crosses his arms across his chest. “Ahh,” he drawls with a knowing look on his face. “I get it.”
“Get what?” I snap.
“Danica was constantly comparing you to Mitch,” he says with a smirk.
“No, she wasn’t doing that,” I snarl.
“She doesn’t want you around her kid?” he guesses.
“Travis and I get along great.”
“She’s too mired in grief and can’t give you her all?” Hendrix asks tentatively.
I shake my head, shooting him a glance. “No… she’s ready to move on.”
“Then she’s feeling weirded out about you and Mitch knowing each other and wants to keep things secret?” he tosses my way.
“No,” I growl with frustration. “Danica is great with everything. She’s solid. Sure, she has moments of sadness about Mitch, but she says he wanted her to be happy. They’d talked about those things. And even Travis likes that I like his mom.”
Bain moves to stand before me, his expression thunderous. “Then what the actual fuck, dude? You have an amazing woman who, as far as I can tell over the last several weeks, has brought you out of your funk. You care for her and her kid. She’s ready to give her all to you and you break it off? Are you stupid or something?”
“It’s not stupid to worry about the welfare of the team,” I snap. Bain blinks at me and looks to Hendrix who shrugs. I suck in a breath and after letting it out, my voice is slightly calmer. I glance around to make sure no one’s been listening. “I’m worried that this could negatively affect the team. There might be some who think it’s fucked up I’m with Mitch’s wife.”
“Widow,” Bain corrects me bluntly. “She’s not his wife. She’s a widow and Mitch is dead.”
I wince because that’s a harsh reminder, but Bain didn’t know Mitch. He wasn’t part of that team.
My gaze goes to Hendrix. “I agree with Bain. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.”
I turn around slowly and look at all my teammates. They’re talking and laughing and enjoying easy camaraderie. They all truly care about each other, just the way it was with the team I had before the crash.
Giving my attention back to Hendrix, because he knew Mitch well, I ask, “Are you sure I’m not doing anything wrong?”
“Does it feel wrong when you’re with her?”
“Nothing has ever felt more right,” I say.
“I don’t care if anyone has a problem with it,” Bain cuts in, leveling me with a harsh stare. “If she’s that good for you and you for her, fuck anyone in this locker room and fuck any fan who has an issue with it. You cannot bend your life to fit—”
“I don’t want to hurt the team. I don’t want some people to have bad feelings about it. I don’t want to throw off this momentum we have going.”
“They won’t be upset,” Hendrix says. “They’ll be happy for you, man.”
“How can you be so sure?”
