Page 93 of The Player's Club

Mac, would you be proud of me today? I thought to myself. Because I’m proud of myself.

Even if I couldn’t get Mac back, even if I couldn’t show him that our relationship had always been real to me, at least I had more people in my corner.

MAC

Coach eyed me up and down. “That’s all you have to say then, Mackenzie?”

I nodded tightly.

To my dismay, Coach didn’t look pissed this time. He looked disappointed. He folded his hands and then cleared his throat.

“You know, you can always talk to me. If you need to, that is,” he said. Even as he said the words, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

I had to restrain a dark laugh. When Coach had called me into his office to reprimand me for missing practice, he’d reamed me a new asshole. But then he’d asked me what the hell was going on with me, and I’d shut my mouth.

I wasn’t about to spill all my dirty little secrets to my coach. Besides, none of that had anything to do with hockey. My personal life was just that: personal.

“I’m sorry I missed practice and almost missed the game,” I repeated. “It won’t happen again.”

Coach gazed at me for a long moment. “You look like shit. Have you been eating? Taking care of yourself? There’s a counseling service you can use—”

I held up a hand. “I’m fine. Thanks for the concern. Like I said, I won’t miss practice again without calling in.”

“Hmph. Well, if you’re sure . . .” Coach cleared his throat again. “Um, you can go, then. Just—take care of yourself, okay?”

Coach had never been the type of guy to show anxiety for his players. He preferred the gruff approach, where he told you get your head out of your ass and stop fucking around. The fact that Coach spoke to me gently was enough to make me run away.

I took the back way through the stadium, mostly because I didn’t feel like running into my teammates. I’d already had Brady calling me nonstop, asking me what the hell was wrong. And then of course Elodie, who’d finally stopped calling after I’d ignored her long enough . . .

When I’d finally called Brady back, he’d told me that Elodie had been worried about me. I wanted to believe Brady, but I couldn’t let myself. Elodie was just worried that she’d completely alienated her nice, juicy story. I needed to keep reminding myself of that.

When I saw her standing by my car, I couldn’t even feel surprised. Worse, I felt excited. Hopeful.

Don’t be a fucking idiot. Don’t let your guard down.

Elodie looked frazzled. Her hair was in a messy bun, she was wearing wrinkled sweats, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Worry struck me, even as I pushed the feeling down.

“Mac,” her voice made my heart jump. “I’m so glad to see you. Are you okay?”

“What do you want?”

She flinched. I forced myself not to care.

“I wanted to see if you were okay. Are you? Okay?”

I folded my arms. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I get why you didn’t want to call me back—”

“So you showed up to my practice instead? Pretty sure that’s classified as stalking.”

Now she looked pissed. “Mac, if you’d just let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. You lied to me. Unless you lied about lying?”

Elodie’s expression fell. “I know. I did lie to you. I should never have done that. The guilt has been eating me alive. I know our relationship started out on the wrong foot, but everything between us was real. My feelings for you—they’re real. They’ve always been real, I promise you.”

I looked away; I couldn’t stand to see the tears in her eyes. “Is that why you came here? To tell me what you’ve already said?”