ending it by saying, I’m going to do things to you tonight that will have you howling.
That left me grinning and with a slight hard-on for a while.
The team plane landed back in Phoenix early this morning. The players dispersed, having the next thirty-six hours off from any commitment to the Vengeance. It was a rare treat and I knew there was nothing more perfect than to whisk Ella away somewhere romantic.
Our game against Seattle was hard-fought and with no small amount of bitterness, we lost in overtime 2-1. Still, I don’t feel there was anything we left on the table. It’s just that last night, Seattle played better than us. It happens.
I still have to pack an overnight bag, which won’t take me long, so I settle in at my kitchen table to do some online bill paying.
Another skill I had to learn, as Ella had managed the finances when we were together.
I do know if Ella and I get back together, I’m going to need to step in and help with more of the household running. It’s a lot of fucking work, and I never knew how much she did behind the scenes. If there’s one good thing that came out of me being asked to leave my own home, it forced me, at the age of thirty-three, to do a hell of a lot of growing up.
My phone rings and I nab it off the table, seeing Coach Perron’s number. Because I’m in such a good mood, knowing that within a matter of hours I’ll be in Ella’s magnificent presence, I’m cheerful when I answer. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Steele,” he says, addressing me by my last name, as he does all the players when talking business. “I need you to come into the arena.”
For a moment, I’m confused. It’s my day off. The day I want to spend with Ella. Our next game is two days away. “Excuse me?”
“Dax went in for an MRI on his shoulder this morning, and there’s a small tear in his rotator cuff. He’s out for the foreseeable future, which means you’re moving up to the first line. I’m calling a meeting now with you, Bishop, and Tacker to discuss it, then I want my first line on the ice this afternoon. You’ve got two days to get in sync with these guys. You know our next game is too important to fuck up.”
Indeed. We play the Cold Fury Wednesday night, the team we defeated for the Cup last season.
“Coach… I, um…” I stutter, wanting to tell him about my plans with Ella. Surely, we can get ice time tomorrow, and that will be enough.
But I don’t finish those thoughts.
Because this is important. It is my boss—Coach—telling me that I’m moving up from the second line to the first line, and it is imperative I have as much time with the first-line guys to become cohesive. Without a doubt, they’re getting the same call and ditching whatever personal plans they had to meet me for some practice.
“Yeah… sure,” I end up saying instead, my heart heavy and a pit in my stomach. “What time do you want me there?”
“Two PM, my office. And then I want you guys out on the ice after that. Tomorrow morning, game films and more ice time. That’s the initial plan for now.”
“Got it,” I murmur.
“See you in a few hours,” Coach says before disconnecting.
I sit my phone down, the pit in my stomach growing a bit heavier. It’s enough of a letdown to us both that I’m going to have to cancel on Ella, but I’m dreading what her reaction will be.
The primary reason she asked me to leave was that I put her after hockey, and while I’ve done a lot to show her I’m in this marriage and she’s my priority, I’m afraid she won’t understand this at all.
I’m afraid this might erase every bit of the work we’ve done to get back on track.
“Fuck,” I curse out loud to my empty house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I can’t even be happy I’m moving up to the first line, because I’d much rather have my wife invite me back into her heart and our life together.
But this simply cannot be declined.
I don’t have a choice but to do this to her.
Pushing up from the table, I ignore the bills. I don’t bother with an overnight bag. I merely grab my keys before heading out to my car. From within, as I drive to Ella’s house, I call