Major Misconduct (Aces Hockey #1) (22 page)

One more phone call confirmed those arrangements, and then she dressed and did a little makeup and hair work. She slid her laptop into its case along with a file of business papers, left the condo, and searched for somewhere she could hang out that afternoon and get some work done.

A Starbucks on Illinois Street provided that solution. She could spend a few hours there, do some shopping if she needed to kill more time, and then meet Jillian at six for the beer course.

Her phone buzzed with a text message just before two o’clock. Marc.
Hey where are you?

She looked at the message, then ignored it for a while. He didn’t need an immediate answer. She could be in a business meeting and not able to take calls or check messages. She ordered her second latte and continued working. Concentrating on work was just what she needed to take her mind off stuff.

An hour later she texted him back.
Had work to do.

His reply came right away.
R U coming home, or do U want me to meet you at beer thing?

She sighed, a weight settling on her chest, then tapped in her reply.
Jillian is going to come with me to the beer thing. She likes beer.

She waited with jumpy nerves for his response; it took a while and she almost thought he wouldn’t send one. But it was just,
Okay, then
.

For some reason her nose started to sting and she had to blink back tears. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Well. That had been easy.

When she met Jillian at the brew pub where the course was being held, Jillian took one look at her and said, “Whoa. You look awful.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I have a killer headache.”

“Need something?”

“Do you have? I took some ibuprofen this morning but I forgot to bring any, and now my headache’s back.”

They quickly transferred a couple of little pills between their hands, and Lovey used the last of a bottle of water she’d purchased at Starbucks to wash it down. “There.”

She tried to focus on the course, which was really quite cool. She learned that you could think of ale as red wine and lager as white wine.

“Ales are more fruity and robust,” the instructor, a local chef, told them. “Lagers are crisper, more delicate. And as with wine, there are light, medium, and heavy bodies. Generally, light beers pair well with light dishes, and heavy beers with heavy dishes.”

They got to sample a bock beer with spicy jerk chicken and a stout with braised lamb shanks, to name only a couple of the dishes, as well as assorted cheeses paired with various beers. Lovey pasted on a smile and laughed and interacted with the other people there.

Then she had to go home. And face Marc.

Marc was in a pissy mood all evening. What the fuck was Lovey doing? She’d brushed him off and took someone else to the course they’d planned to attend together. Not that he was dying to learn about matching beer with food, but she’d invited him and he’d been looking forward to it, even though he’d hesitated at first.

He played some video games, then read another book about achieving peak performance in sports, waiting for her to come home. Army—now out shopping with Melissa, the model he’d been seeing—didn’t seem too worried about Lovey.

It was nearly ten when Lovey finally walked in. Marc leaped off his bed and strode out to see her. They hadn’t talked since last night during the Duncan Disaster.

“Hey, Lovey,” he said cautiously, not sure what to expect.

She gave him a breezy smile. “Hey, you.”

A hundred questions backed up in his brain and he didn’t know what to ask. Silence stretched out between them. Finally he asked the stupidest question of all. “Why’d you take Jillian tonight? I thought we were going together.”

She sighed. “Yeah, we need to talk.” She ran her tongue over her top teeth. “Look, Marc. We were having fun. But we should never have started what we did. And I shouldn’t have invited you to something like that.”

His gut turned to rock. “What do you mean?”

“We were fooling around, having fun, keeping it secret from Duncan. He was never supposed to know about it. Now he does, he’s pissed off, you feel shitty, I feel shitty. It’s a big mess and it’s all my fault. I’m sorry. Let’s just…move on. Okay?”

No. Not fucking okay. He stared at her, every muscle in his body going rigid. Move on? What did that mean? He had a feeling it didn’t mean what he wanted it to mean.

“I’m going to bed.” She gave a weary smile. “I didn’t sleep great last night and I’ve had a headache all day.”

He watched her move past him and down the hall. His hands balled into fists. What. The. Fuck.

She was done with him. Just like that.

That was all it had been for her? Fooling around and having fun? Really?

He swallowed through a tight throat. Gave his head a shake. Then instead of standing there like an idiot, he went to his bedroom.

He tried to make sense of it. He really had thought there was more developing between them than “fooling around.” But she was dumping him. So to speak. Could you call it getting dumped when they’d never really been together?

But it had
felt
like they were together. Other than hiding it from Army, it had felt a lot like it. And here he’d been, trying to figure out how to tell Army so they could continue to explore whatever it was between them, out in the open and for real.

But that wasn’t what she wanted.

He shoved off his jeans, pulled off his T-shirt, and climbed into bed in his boxers.

Weirdly, this stung more than when Marissa had dumped him. Because he wasn’t romantic enough. Was that what the problem with Lovey was? Not enough romance?

There’d been
no
romance. There’d been a lot of hot, furtive sex. Hanging out in the condo, cooking meals, watching movies, out with big groups of people after games. There’d been that night at Fowler…the dinner before had kinda
felt
like a date, but…that had been far from romantic.

He was such a fucking loser. How could he think there was something between them when they’d never even been on a fucking
date
? He lifted an arm and drilled a fist into the mattress, then lifted it and covered his eyes with his forearm.
Tabernak de tabernak!

His pissy mood served him well on their road trip. Friday night, he was slamming guys into the boards at every opportunity. He enjoyed every check that shuddered through his own body. The slap shot that vibrated up his arms felt good, and felt even better when it rocketed past the Wild goalie and bulged the twine. He set the tone for the game, physical and grinding, and ultimately a four-two win.

After, aching and throbbing all over, he questioned his sanity, but fuck, it had felt damn fine and had been worth it to see the other guys jump onboard and play their guts out. Everyone was in high spirits afterward, music blasting in the dressing room and lots of backslapping. He rode the bike for a while to cool down. When a bunch of guys were going out after, he debated just returning to his hotel room, but then decided he needed to put on a game face and be part of his team.

So he dressed in his suit and tie and they walked the few blocks from the arena to some big nightclub. With pulsing lights and driving music, surrounded by puck bunnies and beer, he tried to forget that he was miserable.

It didn’t totally work.

He knew better than to compensate with booze and hot chicks, and dragged Army back to the hotel in a taxi shortly after midnight. Too bad Army started talking about Lovey.

“So? Did you talk to her?” he asked. “What’s happening?”

Marc looked out the side window. “Yeah. We talked. Sort of.”

“And?”

“Apparently I was wrong.” He rubbed his jaw, still not looking at Army. “She doesn’t feel the same. So…we’re done.”

Army was silent for few moments, then said, “Really?”

“Yup. Really. We were supposed to go out last night. She stood me up and took Jillian with her. Then when she got home she said it had all been a big mistake.”

He could feel waves of tension coming off Army, so he turned to look at him, wondering if he should brace himself for getting punched again. Instead, Army looked…sympathetic.

“Shit, man,” his friend said quietly. “You really in love with her?”

“Ah, doesn’t matter.” He didn’t want to be stripped bare, naked and shivering in the dark, everyone feeling sorry for him. “Whatever.”

“Christ,” Army muttered. “I was worried about her…should’ve been worried about
you.
Should’ve known you’re not the type to fuck someone over. But she is.”

“No, she’s not,” Marc said sharply. “She’s just…I don’t know. She’s not a bad person.” He sighed. Maybe this was what Lovey was like, playing around with guys and then dumping them for no good reason. Maybe he should’ve listened to Duncan. “I guess I screwed up, thinking it was more than it was. I didn’t do anything to…to wine her and dine her…how would she know it wasn’t more than just screwing around?”

“Wine her and dine her?” Army lifted an eyebrow.

Marc shrugged. “Apparently chicks like that. Marissa said I wasn’t romantic enough.”

“Huh. Well. Maybe you could still do that.”

Marc eyed his friend sourly. “Now you’re all in favor of this?”

Army made a face. “Hate seeing you all busted up over her.”

“I’m not,” he snapped. “It’s…whatever.”

“The more you say ‘whatever’ the more I know it’s not ‘whatever.’ ”

“Fuck off.”

Army actually laughed. “Oh man.” Then he sighed. “Go home and ask her out on a date. With my blessing.”

“She doesn’t want to date me.”

“How do you know? You don’t know until you ask.”

“Not a big fan of setting myself up for rejection.”

“I get that. But come on…how much worse can it be? And…is she worth it?”

Marc rolled his eyes and turned away again, watching city lights slide by. The taxi pulled up at the front door of the hotel and bellhops jumped up to open their doors. Marc handed some bills over to the driver. “Keep the change.”

He and Army used to be roommates on the road too, sharing hotel rooms, but that was no longer required and they had their own rooms. Alone, Marc turned on the TV and found ESPN.

Did Armdog really now approve of him and Lovey being together? That was pretty damn ironic, considering.

Was she worth it?

He kept thinking about that, over and over. He was afraid of the answer. He was afraid that if he thought about all the reasons she was worth it, he might as well just stab a knife into his heart and twist it.

Which was pretty much how he felt when he arrived home on Sunday to find the condo empty.

She’d moved out.

He sensed the emptiness when he and Army walked in. He slowly walked down the hall to her bedroom, and sure enough…empty. Cleaned right out. He couldn’t believe it.

He returned to the main room. “She’s gone,” he told Army.

Army frowned.

“Lovey. She moved out. All her stuff is gone.”

“The fuck. Seriously?” And he had to go look too. “Well, shit.”

“You
wanted
her gone, Armdog.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shit. I’ll call her.”

Marc nodded. Better him. He listened while Army talked to her, not getting much out of the one-sided conversation. Then Army related more to him. “She got them to let her move in early in exchange for painting the apartment. She hired some moving company to take her stuff yesterday and the rest of her things from storage are coming from Madison tomorrow.”

Marc lifted his chin. “She say why?”

It was because of him. Because they’d messed up and made things weird and awkward and she had to leave.

“She just said she wanted to get on with it.”

Move on. Sure.

“It’s probably better,” Marc said quietly. “Sorry about this, man. Should never have happened. You should go see her and make sure things are okay with you two.”

Army scratched his scruffy cheek. “I guess. I wanna see this place. Hopefully it’s not a dive. I’ll go over later and see if she needs anything.”

“Yeah. Good.”

“Man, I’m sorry she did this to you.” Army grimaced. “She’s such a fuckin’ flake.”

Again Marc found himself feeling defensive of Lovey, even though it appeared Army was totally right. He carried his duffel bag to his room to unpack. Instead he ended up lying on his back on the bed, hands behind his head, staring into space for who knew how long.

“Seems decent.” Duncan looked around Lovey’s studio apartment. “A little on the empty side right now.”

“The stupid thing is, I have more furniture than I need. There’s no room for a bed
and
a sofa in this space.”

Her studio apartment combined living room and bedroom. She needed a sofa bed or a futon or something.

“It’s pretty tiny,” he agreed. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch for a while. Maybe just prop my bed up against a wall to get it out of the way, until I can sell it and the couch. Maybe I can get a few bucks for them and buy a futon.”

“Jesus, Lovey.”

“What?” She set her hands on her hips. “You wanted me to move out on my own. What’s wrong?”

His lips compressed. “I don’t know. I just didn’t think…”

“This is me being a responsible grown-up. This is what I can afford until I start bringing in more money. I don’t mind living like this for a while. It won’t be forever.” She raised her chin. “I’m going to make a success of my business.”

“Shit, Lovey. I’m sorry. I know you are. You’re smart and talented, and it seems like you
have
been working hard at this.”

“I have.”

“Anything you need right now?”

Marc.

Damn. Not Marc. “No.”

Duncan eyed her. “I’m kind of pissed at how you treated Marc.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I tried to tell him to stay away from you. I thought I was concerned about you hooking up with him, or one of the other guys. Turns out I should’ve been worried for
them
. As usual, you just jumped into something without thinking it through and ended up making a big mess of it. What was that all about, Lovey? You thumbing your nose at me because I was being overprotective?”

“No!” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “No way.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t using him. I was attracted to him. He was attracted to me. It was…hot. We wanted each other. It was a little complicated when one time turned into more…we were trying to hide it from you. I would’ve told you, but I knew Marc was worried that you’d be pissed at him, he didn’t want to wreck your relationship.” She bit her lip. “Are you two okay?”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“I know he felt terrible about it because of your stupid guy rules or whatever. He’d told you he wouldn’t touch me and then he did and I know he felt guilty. I never wanted to ruin your friendship with him.”

“Why’d you break up with him if you weren’t just using him to piss me off?”

She sighed. She moved over to her bed, the only piece of furniture you could sit on, and sat. “Look. I heard you two talking the other night. After you walked in on us. I heard him telling you that he was serious about me. It was never supposed to be like that.” She waved her hands in front of her like a ref waving off a goal.

“So you were just screwing around with him and having fun.”

She swallowed, her throat thick, and nodded.

“Did you hear him say he’s in love with you?”

She gaped at him. Marc was in love with her?

“He thought you felt the same way.”

Whoa. “No,” she said slowly.

“Lovey. You broke his heart.”

She drew back, her chin jerking down. “What?”

“You hurt him. Cutting him out like that. He’s in love with you and you just…cut him.”

She blinked rapidly, her chest aching, her throat tightening. She’d figured it was better to end it now, before things got as serious as the L word. But…Marc loved her? “I-I…”

“He thought you felt the same. But hey…if you don’t, you don’t. You can’t make yourself love someone if you don’t.” Duncan rolled his eyes. “You do need to grow up. Too bad a good guy had to be decimated.”

“That’s not fair.” Her hand went to her aching throat.

He shrugged. “Think about it. I gotta go. Some of the guys are going out for wings.”

She watched him leave, her bottom lip quivering. There’d been a time when they would’ve invited
her
for wings. She’d had fun hanging out with Duncan and Marc and the guys. But she’d totally messed that up.

“Duncan?”

He stopped at the door. “Yeah?”

“You said…that night…‘what Lovey wants, Lovey gets.’ D’you really think I’m that spoiled?”

His lips compressed. “I don’t know.”

She frowned. She’d hoped he’d deny it.

“You always got whatever you wanted growing up,” he continued slowly. “Mom and Dad gave you stuff they never gave me.”