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I don’t even want to hear him joke like that about her.
She loves me like a friend. It ought to be enough. But in this minute—fuck, I can almost see what it would be like if she loved me for real. Forever.
“Dude?”
I turn. Greg’s brows buckle together, and I’ve got the sense he might be picking up on something I can barely admit to wanting myself.
“Rux, this thing between you guys, it’s been great for you both. Some fun. Just what she needed. No responsibility, no expectation… Just the way you like it. But unless something fundamental has changed that I don’t know about, you aren’t a forever kind of guy. And ultimately, forever is what Cammy’s been waiting for.”
“But withJeremy?”
“No idea, man. I’m not even sure Cammy does. I mean, hell, she’s got your ass all over her every free minute you guys spend together. You’re in her bed, with her kid. Probably cleaning out her refrigerator like it’s your own. You’re larger than life. And with you in front of her, I’m not sure if she can even see what she wants herself.”
I swallow, my lungs feeling like they aren’t working so great as I try to breathe through this feeling of being gutted.
“What are you saying? You think I should get out of the way?”
I’m waiting for him to give me a top volumehell no, and tell me to ride this out for as long as Cammy wants to give me. But I’ve got the uncomfortable sense that in this moment, Greg Baxter is more Cammy’s brother-in-law than he is my wingman. And as much as I don’t like it, I’m grateful knowing he’s looking out for her when my mind is too clouded with my own selfish needs to see things clearly.
“I’m just saying, if youknowyou’re not the right guy for her, maybe it’s time to step aside so she has a chance to find the one who is.”
* * *
Cammy
Mattyand I start the game curled up beneath the Slayers throw Rux gave us when the season started last year. Jeremy took off like he said he would and now it’s just me and my boy, watching our favorite hockey player having an off game.
Rux has been in the box twice, missed what the commentators were calling two prime shots, and, like the rest of the team, can’t seem to sync up with his line.
When the period ends, Matty gives me a pleading look, telling me Ruxneedshim.
“Sorry, buddy, we can watch the rest tomorrow.” I pause the game and give my boy a squeeze before letting him up and then following him back to his room. He climbs into bed and I read a littleFly Guybefore giving him a kiss and saying good night.
When I come back to the game, the second period is even worse than the first.
The Epics are all over our guys. Quinn O’Brian is tangled up with an opposing player against the boards, sticks clattering together as they fight it out for control of the puck. There’s an opening, but Rux can’t get there and misses the pass.
The look on his face in that moment guts me.
Three minutes later and he’s in the box again, everyone talking about his failure to deliver. How they’d had high hopes for the rivalry with the Epics pushing our players to perform better, but instead we’re falling apart.
I’m on the edge of my seat, waiting for the game to turn around. But it doesn’t happen, and by the end I can barely stand to watch the interviews.
It takes longer than usual for Rux to call, but finally he does and I feel like I can breathe again.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask quietly.
“Had better games, that’s for damn sure. Tell me you didn’t watch the whole thing.”
I debate lying for a second, but he cuts into my thoughts with a rough laugh.
“Course you did.”
“What can I say, you’ve got a fan.”
I hear him take a deep breath through the line and imagine him climbing into his car. “You coming over?”
There’s a beat of silence, and then— “I wish. But I’m already home. I’ve got a meeting with the coach early tomorrow, and I’m not much company after tonight.”
