Authors: Jami Davenport
Tags: #Friends to Lovers, #Seattle Sockeyes, #Sports Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports, #Romance, #Hockey Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Contemporary Romance, #Literature & Fiction
Blake forced a smile. “So I’m single again. What about you? Avery and you appear to be joined at the hip.”
“And elsewhere,” Isaac couldn’t help adding. His joke had the desired result as Blake laughed.
“And your asshole brother?” Blake prodded him, and Isaac wondered how this came to be about him rather than Blake.
“No news. He hates me. Blames me for everything that’s bad in his life.”
“What about you? Do you blame yourself, too?”
“A lot of it is my fault,” Isaac admitted.
“You need to stop blaming yourself and move on before you can expect anyone else to do so.”
Isaac nodded. “Do you blame yourself for what happened to your family?”
“I wish I’d been on that plane with them.” Blake glanced up, his eyes haunted. “It’s not easy being the one left behind. If I’d been with them, could something have changed? Maybe—”
“Surely, you can’t blame yourself for what happened?”
“Just as much as you do.” Blake looked pointedly at him. One night in the hotel during a road trip, Isaac had confessed the entire sordid truth so Blake knew it all down to every last detail. It’d felt surprisingly good to get it off his chest.
“I truly doubt that. You didn’t play any part in the accident.”
“You weren’t driving that car. You didn’t force them behind that wheel. You didn’t pour that alcohol down their throats. I know your family blames you, no matter how unfair that might be.”
“You think it’s unfair?” Isaac’s voice raised, and he couldn’t stop it.
“Yeah. You were young, an addict, and you did a stupid thing.”
“Lots of stupid things. Those are excuses.”
“They’re reality. Forgive yourself. You’re only human. You didn’t mean for that tragedy to happen. If you ever want a real future with Avery, you have to heal yourself first.”
Isaac nodded. Blake was right.
Isaac raised his glass in a salute. “Back at you, buddy. Back at you.”
Now if only Isaac could find a way to truly forgive himself.
* * * *
The next night the Sockeyes lost their second playoff game in Calgary and flew back to Seattle in a silent plane, down two to one in the first round.
Isaac didn’t get to see Avery that next morning before practice, which made him cranky and out of sorts. He missed her like crazy, but she’d been tied up with a Hans’s clinic, and he understood. He’d see her in the evening. All business, he concentrated on hockey, giving practice his full attention.
The way Glanden was riding the rookie Flint you’d think the kid single-handedly lost the game for them. Once the playoffs started, Glanden had ignored Isaac and focused his attention on attacking a talented rookie, Jasper Flint. Glanden’s constant harassment and criticism chipped away at the kid’s confidence, and as a result, the kid was playing like crap and in danger of being sent back to the minors.
He never did it in front of Cooper or Cedric, but he sure as hell didn’t care if Isaac witnessed his abuse. Hazing the rookies was one thing, but this went beyond simple hazing into an area both demoralizing and cruel.
In the past, Isaac stayed out of that type of bullshit, figuring it was survival of the fittest. But he found it hard to ignore this time because Glanden was like a cancer in the locker room, ripping them apart from the inside out. Had Isaac been like that on his other teams? He was pretty damn sure he had been, but he’d never been cruel, exactly, just an ass.
Isaac skated up to Glanden, getting between jerk and the brow-beaten rookie. “You didn’t exactly play a stellar game yourself, Glanden.” He looked to Jasper. “You did all right, kid. You played a damn good game.”
Jasper smiled gratefully at Isaac. “Thanks, Ice.”
“Ignore this loser. He’s just jealous.” Perhaps not the smartest thing to say. Judging by the murder in Glanden’s eyes, it was a good thing the guy wasn’t armed or Isaac would have a bloody, gaping hole in his chest and probably a few in his head.
“What the fuck did you say?” Glanden got into his face, and Isaac held his ground. In his peripheral vision, he could see his teammates and coaches slowly gathering around.
“I said we’re all a team here, and Jasper is as big a part of this team as you and I are. I think the kid’s playing up to potential if not beyond. He held his own with a tough team. We all did. The breaks just didn’t go our way.”
Cooper stood at the edge of the circle but didn’t intervene. He probably figured it was time for Isaac and Glanden to have it out so the team could get beyond it. A second later, Glanden dropped his gloves. Isaac didn’t. He would not be baited into a fight and see his last shot at the NHL obliterated because he threw the first punch.
“Glanden,” he said, trying to diffuse the situation. “Just lighten up on the kid. That’s all. No need to come to blows over it.”
Glanden hit Isaac so hard in the jaw that Isaac crashed on the ice, butt first, pride second. Glanden was on him in a flash, and they rolled around on the ice, throwing punches. Isaac managed to get away but Glanden kicked him, the point of his blade connecting with Isaac’s shin.
He was going to kill the son-of-a-bitch. Isaac punched the guy, getting immense satisfaction as his fist connected with Glanden’s jaw and then his rib cage.
Cooper, Blake, and Cedric pulled Isaac off Glanden, even as Isaac lunged for the jerk again. Glanden writhed on the ice, groaning and making a real production out of it, while Isaac stood silently watching and feeling not one ounce of remorse. At least not yet. That might come later when they kicked him off the team or told him he wouldn’t be getting a new contract with them or any other NHL team for that matter. Yeah, he’d be taking the ice in Siberia.
Despite who had started it, Isaac had finished it.
As they carried Glanden off to the locker room wedged between two coaches, Isaac slumped onto a nearby bench.
Blake sat down beside him. “It’s okay. You didn’t start it.”
“Yeah, but that’s never mattered before.”
Only then did Isaac notice the reporters standing next to the boards. Of course there were reporters at the practice facility, and of course they had cameras.
He was so screwed.
* * * *
Isaac didn’t stop by the barn like he always did when he drove by that evening, which was odd. Immediately, Avery wondered if she’d pissed him off somehow, done something, but she couldn’t think of a thing.
She was about to walk over to Isaac’s when her phone rang, and she noticed it was Cooper.
“Have you seen Isaac?” he asked, getting right to the point. By his businesslike tone, whatever was going on wasn’t good.
“Uh, no, I was just heading over there. Why—is something wrong?” Avery leaned against the door and took deep, steady breaths to calm her wildly pounding heart.
“I’ll let him explain it.” Cooper refused to elaborate.
“Okay.” She hesitated, teetering on the edge of begging for more information.
“I’m certain he could use you right now,” Cooper added.
“You’re encouraging me to go to him?” This really was serious, and fear punched her in the gut.
“Weird how stuff works out, isn’t it,” Cooper answered with not a bit of humor.
“Yeah, really weird.”
“Well, bye.”
“Bye,” Avery said but Cooper had already disconnected.
She yanked on her shoes, desperate to get to Isaac, and jogged the short distance to his house. Blake let her in, stone-faced and refusing to meet her gaze, which only substantiated her worst fears.
“He needs you,” he said simply.
“Where is he?”
“Sitting on deck contemplating God knows what.” Blake smiled grimly and left, using the excuse of going to work out at ten o’clock at night.
Avery walked onto the deck. Hal waddled toward her, his entire butt wagging. Blake’s black and white cat lay on Isaac’s lap, purring like crazy as Isaac idly stroked him.
“Hi,” she said crossing to him and planting a kiss on his cheek.
Isaac looked up at her, one of his big hands petting the kitten. “Hey.”
“What’s up with you? Everyone seems worried that you’re going to do something stupid.”
“Like what? Get shitfaced drunk?” Isaac said, his voice hard and angry, much like the old asshole Isaac.
“I’m not sure.” Avery pulled a lawn chair next to his. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Not really.” He set his jaw in that familiar stubborn line and looked into the distance.
“Oh, no, you’re not doing this. Not after all we’ve been through. You’re not shutting me out. You might be able to shut out everyone else but not this girl. Got it, buster?” She jabbed him in the chest with a fingernail.
“Ouch,” he groused, shooting her a glare that didn’t intimidate her at all. “I really don’t feel like talking.”
“Tough shit. I don’t feel like letting you wallow in self-pity either.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re a tough, bad-assed female, you know that?”
“When I need to be.” Avery grabbed his hand and sobered. “Tell me, Isaac.”
He stared into the distance and sighed. “You’ll badger me until I do, won’t you?”
“Damn right.”
“I got into a fight at practice today with one of the guys. Broke his jaw, a couple ribs, messed up his ankle. He’s out for the playoffs.”
“Glanden?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“He’s been harassing this rookie, not your normal, good-natured harassing; this was mean, confidence-shattering harassment.”
“Why didn’t Cooper take care of it? Doesn’t he rule that team with an iron fist?”
“Glanden’s not stupid enough to do anything in front of the captains. So I finally had had enough and told him to stop it, not quite that nicely. Next thing I know I’m on my ass, and he’s jumping on top of me.”
“Oh.” Avery held her hand to her mouth.
“Yeah, he underestimated what a damn good street fighter I am. I lost it. I’d have killed him, Avery, if the guys hadn’t pulled me off him.” Isaac hung his head, as if ashamed.
“But you didn’t,” Avery reminded him gently.
“I wanted to. I thought I’d come further than that.”
“Isaac, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re bound to fall back on old habits once in a while. You’re human.”
He met her gaze guiltily. “What if I do it to you? What if I lose my temper? What if we fight, and somehow my words or actions destroy you—destroy us—just like I’ve destroyed everyone else who’s ever mattered to me?”
“You won’t, Isaac. That’s not the man you are anymore.” She hated him doubting himself, throwing out all the good with the bad, as if he were still the old Isaac.
“Really? What kind of man do you really think I am? Do you really know me?” He bent down and pulled a pint of whiskey from a paper bag under his chair.
Avery stared at the bottle. She took it from him with a shaky hand and examined it. The seal wasn’t broken. “You’re the kind of man who has temptations, but you’re strong enough to resist them.”
“I was going to drink the whole damn thing.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I would have.”
“No, you would not have.” Avery leaned forward and framed his face between her hands. “I know the type of man you are, Isaac, and you’re the man I want. No one else will do but you. I love you with all your faults and all your history. I even love your baggage because it’s brought you to where you are today, and I love you for it, scars and all.” Avery kissed him. At first he was rigid, unyielding, but she persisted and wore him down pretty quickly.
“You love me?” he said incredulously after breaking the kiss.
“Yeah, I love you, and I want you,” she said, kissing him again so long and deep she was pretty sure she’d made him forget everything else.
“You’re evil,” he whispered against her mouth.
“And you love it.”
“Maybe.” He grinned his lopsided grin, letting her know everything would be okay.
She shrugged and leaned back, studying his face. “Why
does
Glanden hate you so much? It goes beyond just normal team dynamics, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, I don’t like to talk about it.” Isaac sighed and nodded.
“You don’t like to talk much about anything. Spill it, buster. I want to know it all.”
“He used to be my best friend all through the minors. He was dating my sister and good friends with my girlfriend. We hung out as a group back then. He was at the house when the fight happened. He tried to stop them from leaving, but he was so drunk he had to run for the bathroom. He blames me for their deaths, just like my brothers do.”
“And like you do.”
“I’m working on that. Between you and Blake, I’m seeing that I need to forgive myself even if no one else does so I can move on and have a healthy future.” He met her gaze. “I love you, Avery. You bring out everything that is good about me and multiply it.”
“Exponentially,” she teased.
He threw back his head and laughed. Avery loved his laugh. Loved it. Loved how he made her feel like she was the most important person in his world. Loved how he made her life fuller. Just loved him.
“I love you, Isaac, more than you’ll ever possibly know.” She hugged him tight, filled with a weird combination of happiness and dread, like she’d programmed herself to believe when things were going good they had to turn bad.
He sobered. “Enough to follow me if I sign with another team in the off-season?”
Avery didn’t know the answer that question, and she saw the flash of sadness cross his face as he realized it.
“I—I need time to think,” she said, giving him the most honest answer she could.
He nodded, his mouth set in a grim frown. “The Sockeyes had me on a short leash. One screw-up, and I’m gone. I screwed up.”
“And now you’re gone?” she finished for him.
“I think so,” he said solemnly.
A tear fell down her cheek. She couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop the intense pain piercing her heart.
Could she let him go if she had to or would she leave the only place she’d ever lived, her career with the horses, and follow him to the ends of the earth?
Was she that woman?
Chapter 20—Crossroads
Isaac walked to the gallows with his head high, shoulders pulled back, and his eyes straight ahead. Even though they might be stringing his NHL career from the highest tree, he wouldn’t show a flicker of emotion. If he was going out, he’d keep his tattered pride because it might be all he had once this meeting ended, especially after Avery’s reaction to his news.