Page 61 of Made For You
“Don’t kid yourself.” I kiss his lips. “I’m one hundred percent Grant.”
CHAPTER34
XAVIER
“How are you doing?”Matthew asks me when he steps out of the driver’s seat. I close the back door of the SUV.
“Like I’m being strangled.” I stretch the collar to my white shirt, unbuttoning it.
“You’ll be fine,” Max assures me when he joins us at the back of the car. “The minute you think it’s too much.” He looks at Matthew. “Scratch your nose or something.”
“Or if it’s too much, you get up and say, ‘I need a minute.’” Matthew looks at Max, putting his hands on his hips. “Whatever it is,” he reminds me, “you run this show.” He points at me, and Max laughs at him.
“Yeah, you run this show until Matthew decides that you don’t.” He slaps my shoulder and squeezes, and I can’t help but chuckle a little bit, but then the nerves come back and start eating away at my stomach. All I can do is nod at him as we turn and start walking to the door, Max and Matthew on either side of me. I honestly didn’t think they would actually come to pick me up. I thought it was just said at the moment, but when Vivienne walked into the bathroom while I was getting dressed to tell me her father was there, I was speechless.
My heart beats faster and faster as we get closer and closer to the door. My feet even feel like they are getting heavier and heavier. Max reaches the door first and opens it, Matthew letting me go in after him, with Max following behind us.
The green carpet is all down the quiet hallway. The walls are filled with plays over the years. Dylan is in one of them, holding up the Cup. Michael in another one, and then in one of them, Cooper, Dylan, Michael, and Wilson, all off their feet in the air celebrating the win. The looks on their face is pure bliss. It’s a look that every single kid who starts to play hockey chases. It’s every little boy’s dream to win the Cup, but then when you do it, it must be the ultimate feeling. “Well, well, well.” Nico comes out of his office wearing blue dress pants with a white button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. “I want to say I’m surprised to see you two”—he puts his hands in his pockets and laughs—“but I’d be lying.”
Matthew laughs at him, walking to him and holding out his hand. “Glad that you know me so well.”
“I’m here to make sure that one”—Max points at Matthew—“stays in his lane.” He holds out his hand to Nico, who smiles. “So you’re all welcome.”
“Matthew stay in his lane?” Nico jokes. “That’s something I would be willing to pay to see.” He turns to me. “Xavier.” He holds out his hand. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”
I hold out my hand to shake his. “Thank you for wanting to sit with me.”
“I’m assuming you want to do this in the conference room?” Nico asks. “There is more space.” I nod and then hear the door close from behind me and look over to see Manning coming down the hallway, dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, very casual considering his title. Manning was the captain for Dallas for as long as I can remember. He won the Cup with them and then retired. Only after he retired did the news come out that he was the new GM of Dallas. He and Nico built a team that just got better and better through the years, winning two Cups back-to-back.
“There he is,” Manning says, coming to me with a smile, the two of us have had our battles on the ice, but the respect for each other is very evident. “Look at you.” He puts out his hand to shake mine, but he surprises me by pulling me in for a hug.
“How are you doing?” I say, trying to calm my blood pressure down.
“Good.” He looks at Matthew and Max, nodding while they exchange handshakes. “What did I miss?” he asks, looking at Nico.
“We are heading to the conference room,” Nico states. “Shall we do a tour?”
“That would be great.” I try to not make a big deal of this. Trying to tell myself that it’s going to be fine either way.
We walk into the conference room, and I’m not surprised when Matthew and Max sit on each side of me. The support is so evident it’s giving me that added security. “So,” Nico starts, “you thinking of coming back to the league?” He puts his hands on the table. “From the word on the street, you were done.”
It doesn’t surprise me that he heard this, nor does it shock me. It also, for the first time, doesn’t make me ashamed of the way I left. “I am,” I answer him honestly. “I’m not going to lie, I’m probably rusty,” I try to make a joke out of it, “but it’s probably like riding a bike.”
Manning leans back in his chair, laughing. “I’m not worried about that,” he says, rocking. “I will tell you what I’m worried about.”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Let me just get straight to the elephant in the room.” My neck is getting hot, and my hands are shaking a bit. “I’m not going to lie. It was not my ideal way to leave. But”—I look over at Matthew, who just nods at me—“I’m going to be one thousand percent transparent with you guys.” The lump gets bigger in my throat, but I push through. “I’m not going to sit down and shit on the other team. But what I will say is my side.” I thought telling them my story would be hard, but surprisingly, every single time I’ve said it, it gets easier and easier. Almost as if a weight was lifted from my body. “I was not in the best headspace. Press, well, you know, how press can be. Not the most supportive at times.” They both laugh at that comment. “I reached out for help, got none. Not one person wanted to step in and help me. I thought hockey was a band of brothers. I thought that it was one for all, all for one. I thought hockey was more than it was. That was my error in everything. I learned the hard way.” I look down at my hands, surprised they stopped shaking. “Swallowed the pain every single night, felt more alone than I’ve felt in my whole life. Skated off during warm-up and almost lost my life that night.” I don’t think I need to spell it out because Nico hisses, but it’s Manning who speaks first.
“For one,” he declares, “you should have never gone through that. I’ve been lucky enough to be captain to a group of sensational guys. Not all were Boy Scouts. But push comes to shove, I would have thrown down for each and every single one of them.”
“I know that this should surprise me,” Nico speaks, “but knowing who runs the show there, I’m not. It’s an old-school mentality.” He hits the nail on the head. “When my father ‘gifted,’ me the team”—he uses quotations for gifted—“he had a GM who was stuck in the seventies. He also had a contract I had to stand behind. But he didn’t do anything. I was my own GM. It took a whole thirty minutes of meeting with him to see that I was done with the old way of thinking. He was GM in name only until his contract was up. With that said, if one of my players went through what you just described and no one did anything, everyone would be fired. Period. There is no place for that in my organization, before and even more so now. Social media is a blessing and a curse. It brings the buzz for sure, but if you fuck up”—he shakes his head—“it’s not just on the news for five seconds. It’s replayed over and over again.” I shake my head because he got exactly what I went through. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
I nod at him and lay the rest of my cards on the table. “I’ve met with Vegas, Seattle, and also Arizona.” Manning and Nico just look at me. “But if truth be told, I’d love to come to Dallas not just for myself, but for Vivienne. She has family here and a support system. So if you want me, I’m yours.”
“Are you sure about this?” Matthew says from beside me.
“Never been surer of anything in my life than I am of Vivienne.” I smile, thinking of her smile. I smile, thinking about her laugh. I smile, knowing she would do whatever I wanted to stand by my side. “I get one chance to love her, and I’m not going to fuck it up by bringing her to a city she doesn’t know. So…” I turn back and look at Nico and Manning. “Ball is in your court.” I start to get up and then stop. “Another thing.” I hold up a finger. “I won’t hide my struggles. If I’m having a bad day, I’m going to talk about it. If my anxiety gets the best of me, I’m not hiding it. It’s covered up too much these days, and it’s time that people see it’s okay to not be okay.” I take a second holding up my finger. “Also, I’m not shaving nor will I have my hair cut a certain way.”
I look over at Max, who smiles at me and gets up, not saying anything. Everyone shakes hands, and only when we walk out of there and are in the garage does Max speak up. “You did good in there.” He slaps my shoulder. “There is absolutely nothing I would have done differently.”