Alex (29 page)

“That’s true enough. Well, he broke up with me. I didn’t seem to have a say-so in it.” My words are brittle and I can’t even bring myself to make the effort to lighten the mood.

“Well, he made a mistake,” Garrett says as he sits back and picks up his pizza.

“Then why aren’t you having this conversation with him?”

“I intend to,” he says with a wicked smile. “I just wanted to talk to you and see how much groveling he’d have to do to win you over.”

I blink in surprise, because surely there is no way in hell that Alex Crossman, Most Valuable Prick, would ever grovel to a woman. Besides, I don’t want him to grovel. I don’t find that attractive.

What I would kill for, though, is for him to realize that he was wrong. That letting me go—letting us go—was wrong. I’d be happy with a few simple words telling me that exact thing.

“He doesn’t have to grovel,” I voice my thoughts out loud. “I’m not that type of woman.”

“Glad to know it,” he says around a mouth full of food.

“It’s moot anyway. Alex doesn’t believe this was a mistake. He believes he needed to do this for the benefit of his career.”

“Bullshit,” Garrett says loudly and I look quickly around to see if anyone is looking. I mean, outside of the ordinary stares we got when a Cold Fury hockey player walked into this little restaurant.

Lowering my voice, so he’ll follow suit, I say, “Why is that bullshit?”

“Because I believe you were one of the best things to happen to him. You got him playing better than ever and loving the game again. I’m not blind or stupid.”

“Again, doesn’t matter what you think or what I think…it’s what Alex thinks.”

“It will matter once I get done with him,” he says slyly.

Reaching across the table, I lay my hand on his forearm and when I have his full attention, I say firmly, “Don’t. Just don’t, okay? Leave him be. He made this decision because it gave him some peace of mind, and it’s not up to you or me to take that away from him.”

“Don’t you still love him?” he asks skeptically.

“Of course I do.”

“Then just shut up and let me work my magic.”

“I’m not playing around, Garrett,” I say, leaning across the table and digging my fingers into his arm. “It’s not meant to be.”

“Whatever,” he says, almost in a pout-like way.

“I’m serious. This is my life. Promise me you won’t say anything to Alex.”

Garrett stares at me a moment, the look on his face going eventually from annoyance to acceptance. “Fine.”

“You swear?”

“Every fucking day,” he says with a wink.

“Garrett,” I warn.

“Fine. I swear. I won’t say anything to Alex.”

“Dude,” Garrett says after he takes a sip of his beer. “We need to talk about Sutton.”

I raise my eyebrows at him and peel at the label on my bottle. “What about her?”

“I saw her the other day, and she made me promise I wouldn’t say anything, but fuck that…I suck ass at keeping promises.”

“Is she okay?” I ask urgently, because all sorts of horrific things run through my mind.

She’s sick with cancer, and has only days to live.

Or she got fired.

Or something happened to Glenn. Or Penny. Or Jim-Dad.

“She’s fine,” he says with a dismissive wave.

My heart rate takes a nosedive upon hearing that and my defenses come into play. “Then there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Worried about her, huh?” he asks with a devious smile.

“Nope. You just said she was fine.”

“Before that, asshole. You were worried before that.”

“So what? I cared for her…that’s a natural reaction.”

“
Care
for her,” Garrett says with finality.

“What?”

“Present tense. Care. For. Her.”

The fucker is starting to really irritate me. “So what?”

“Sooooo,” he drawls. “I’m tired of you moping around with your heart flayed open. Win your girl back.”

“No,” I say quickly. “It was for the best.”

“Best for who?” Garrett asks incredulously.

“For me,” I say with determination.

“Yeah…and how’s that working out for you?”

I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say. My life has gotten immensely shittier since I walked out of Sutton’s life a little over two weeks ago. My game hasn’t improved, my dad is riding my ass again and I suspect he may be drinking, and the only good thing I had going for me is nothing more than a ghost of a memory.

“I’m fine,” I say, without a lick of conviction in my voice.

But I’m truthful to my soul when I think,
I’m far from fine. I’m miserable.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” Garrett says as he leans forward. “You are utterly lost and it breaks my fucking heart to see it.”

“You’re such a poet,” I sneer, only to hide the fact that his words hit deep.

“I’m serious, man. And how could you not be? You cut out of your life a beautiful woman who loves your cranky ass. You have to be miserable is the way I see it.”

“What do you know?” I say with as snide a look as I can muster. “Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em is now a philosopher on love.”

“Not at all,” he answers smoothly. “I just happen to be one smart motherfucker, and I know something good when I see it.”

I pick up my bottle and take a healthy swig of beer. We have a rare two days off in a row and I’m killing time with Garrett in a bar because I’ll just sit depressed in my apartment otherwise. It seems any downtime I have is spent thinking about Sutton.

It is, without a doubt, the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life, cutting her loose. I was so wrapped up in my own misery that I couldn’t see what I had standing right in front of me.

And I was scared.

Scared of giving up that carefully controlled life, of letting in the potential for hurt when I had been hurt enough.

Sutton was absolutely right. I’m a fucking coward.

I miss her so much.

So very fucking much, and my body aches with emptiness.

I put Sutton last in my list of devotions when she should have been number one. Yes, my priorities were screwed up, made even worse by the fact she fulfilled me more than any hockey career could, and she was the only one who truly knew what I was going through with my father.

None of it matters, though. Because as sure as I’m sitting here, there’s not a doubt in my mind I fucked this up beyond repair. I did the same thing to her that Brandon did. I made it clear she wasn’t good enough at that moment in time. Brandon wanted to go chase some tail, and I wanted to go chase some sort of peace that was never on the path that I chose.

“Dude, where did you go?” Garrett breaks into my thoughts, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

Shaking my head, I mumble, “Nowhere.”

“Yeah…remember that part where I told you I was one smart motherfucker? Well, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you were silently agreeing with me that you made a dumbass move and you were mulling over the thought that you really couldn’t fix the problem.”

My jaw drops open just a little. “What are you? Like a fucking mind reader or something?”

Garrett grins at me and taps his temple with his forefinger. “Smart. Mother. Fucker.”

“Okay, fine. I admit it. I screwed up. It will probably go down as the single dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But it’s done. I can’t fix it.”

“Chickenshit” is all he says.

“What is it with people questioning my courage?” I grumble.

“Because if you don’t fight for her, it’s a pussy move. You might as well strap on a pink jockstrap next game.”

Rubbing my temple and staring blankly across the bar—because Garrett sometimes has a way of inducing a migraine—I try to think of a good comeback. Garrett doesn’t give me the opportunity, though.

“Besides, I have it on good authority that you won’t even have to grovel to get her back.”

My eyes snap to his. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I asked Sutton point-blank what it would take to fix this shit.”

“And?” I prompt.

“And she assured me no groveling would be needed. She still loves you, buddy. More important, she understands you. She understands your moment of weakness, so just show her it was nothing but a
moment
.”

His words are simple, yet they cause elation to swell within me. I had for sure thought I ruined everything with Sutton. In my world, things are black and white, and forgiveness is a foreign concept and a tough pill to swallow.

“Seriously?” I ask, smiling for what I’m betting is the first time in over two weeks.

“Cross my heart,” he assures me. “So what’s the plan?”

Picking up my beer and downing the rest, I stand up and throw some cash on the bar. Turning to Garrett, I say, “Well, you said groveling isn’t needed but I’m thinking Sutton deserves a little something more than just a lame-ass apology. I have something in mind and I need your help, and Glenn’s too, for that matter.”

Standing up, Garrett slaps his hands together and rubs them briskly. “I love it. A devious plan.”

“Exactly,” I say with a grin. “Let’s get to it.”

Garrett just left my apartment and we have worked out a solid plan, which in my estimation will put Sutton in a position where she has no choice but to take me back. We had to call Glenn first, to make sure he was on board, because he’s instrumental to the plot.

The little dude was not happy to hear from me, which was beyond adorable. I mean, I’m his hockey idol, but he worships the ground Sutton walks on far more than he does my terra firma.

When he got on the line and I told him “hello,” he said, “You hurt my sister and I don’t want anything to do with you.”

I had to do some fast talking so he wouldn’t hang up on me, but thankfully he listened, and after much groveling on my part, he finally agreed to help me. Garrett had his part of the scheme secured and planned on meeting Glenn tomorrow for the handoff.

He gave me a fist bump and a grin before leaving, saying, “This is going to be so much fucking fun. And you know you’re going to get an ass-chewing from the management, right?”

“It will be worth it,” I told him, and it would be
so
worth it.

Now the only thing left I had to do before I reclaimed what was mine and what I so foolishly let get away, was to make a very important phone call.

My dad answers on the second ring and he sounds coherent, which is excellent, because I really need him to hear what I have to say.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Alex…buddy…what’s going on?”

He sounds jovial and clear, which is a good sign. I take that to mean that he’s staying sober, a concern I’ve worried over every single day since he visited a few weeks ago.

“Just calling to check in on you. So how are things going?”

“They’re going fine,” he says nonchalantly.

“You’re not drinking, are you?” I have no choice but to ask point-blank. I hope I can detect the truth of his answer.

“No way. I’ve been sober thirty-five days now.”

I’m silent because he sounds truly happy about that. I’m truly happy about it, but it doesn’t mean that he’s won the battle.

“That’s fantastic, Dad. Is it tough?”

I can hear my dad take a deep breath and let it out, then he says quietly, “Hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“You can do it,” I assure him. “I know you can.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he says with a chuckle. “The AA meetings really help and my sponsor is a great guy. I call him if things get too rough.”

The tightness in my chest eases up a bit and I allow myself the permission to let go of some of this worry. I have to remind myself, and accept, that whatever path my dad chooses, it’s out of my control. All I can do is support him when he’s standing tall, and reach a hand out if he falls.

“Listen, Dad…there’s another reason I called.”

“What’s up?”

“Remember when you asked for my forgiveness when you came to visit?”

“Of course.” His words are soft and appreciative.

“I didn’t mean it when I told you I forgave you,” I tell him bluntly and then hold my breath for his reaction.

“I see,” he says sadly, and I can tell he’s hurt.

Before he can say anything else, I tell him what he really needs to know. “I said those words to you because you asked for them. Because you needed to hear them…not because I wanted to give them to you.”

“Alex—”

“But,” I cut him off quickly, so I can hurry up and get the words out and ease his pain. “I want to say them to you again…right now…and let you know that I
want
to give them to you. I
need
to give them to you and I very much mean them.”

I can hear my dad take in a shaky breath and his voice quavers slightly. “That means a lot, buddy. And I do understand there’s a difference. Now you’ve truly forgiven me.”

“Yes,” I tell him softly. “I really do forgive you for the things you did to me. I want you to have peace with that, because I do.”

“Thank you, Alex,” my dad says sincerely. “You make your old man proud. You’ve reached some pretty amazing achievements in life and I didn’t think I could ever be more proud, but you’ve outdone yourself. I think this shows the true measure of what type of man you are, and God help me, I did nothing to create that. You did that on your own and it’s the proudest I’ve ever been of you.”

I can feel my eyes sting because my dad has offered me words that I never thought I’d hear. My heart constricts almost painfully but then it immediately unwinds, and I swear I can literally feel darkness releasing outward.

“Thank you for saying that, Dad.”

“Sure,” he says simply and with that, we’ve done as much father–son bonding as we can handle.

“I need to tell you something else,” I say quickly as I want to finish this conversation off with probably the most important reason I called. “You were wrong about Sutton…that it would be a waste of my time to focus any attention on her. That my career was more important than anything I could have with her. It’s because of Sutton that I forgive you. It’s because she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my life, and in order to have her, I need to move past my pain. I can only do that by letting it go…forgiving you. If I didn’t want her so bad, I probably wouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now.”

My dad is quiet for a few moments, but then he says, “Sounds like my son has become my teacher now.”

I swallow hard, because those words also pack a punch. “I was stupid and cut her out of my life, but I’m going to get her back. Forgiving you was just one of the steps I needed to take.”

“Is groveling another?” my dad jokes.

Chuckling, I tell him, “Fortunately, she’s not that type of woman. But I do intend to wow her with my apology.”

“Well, one thing I know about my son…there is nothing that can stop him from reaching success when he puts his mind to it.”

“That’s right,” I agree softly with my dad. “And that is definitely something
you
taught me.”