Page 4 of Break Out

I missed the shot that would have tied the game, and given us a chance in overtime to win. Yes, we could still have lost, but I blame myself for not giving us the opportunity to try. I’m one of the alternate captains for fuck’s sake, it’s my job to be one of the leaders of the team and I failed.

Everyone was counting on me to make the shot.

And I didn’t.

My phone dings multiple times. Don’t these guys have better things to do than text each other all day? I grab it from where it’s wedged in the cushions. I should probably respond so they don’t show up at my door.

Me: I’ll pass on the beach. I have plans that day.

It’s a lie, but maybe they’ll stop pestering me. I half think about booking myself a vacation on some remote island. Then at least I’ll have a plausible excuse not to have dinner or drinks with them. But that seems pathetic. Alone on vacation watching couples and families having a good time. Drowning in drinks and sunshine. Although—I rub a hand down my face scratching at the couple of days old beard that’s started to grow in since I’ve been too lazy to shave—it does sound intriguing. My phone lights up with more messages.

Holt: He’s alive.

Wes: Brod, we miss you.

I tip my head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling.

Why?

The only person who I don’t mind using that nickname is Aubrey, but of course Wes being, well, Wes, he decided to adopt it too. I want to text back and correct him, but that would mean getting sucked into their conversation, and that’s the last thing I want to do right now. So I ignore it. My phone dings again before I can put it down, this time with a message from Hunter in a separate text thread.

Hunter: You okay, Brody? If you want to talk, let me know.

I like Hunter, he’s a good guy and a great hockey player. He’ll make a great Captain one day. His game grew so much this past season, and I’m sad that we won’t get to play together again. Hockey is a big part of my life, and I fear it’s about to end since the Storm haven’t called to offer me a new contract. Not that I’m surprised given the way the season ended for me. The missed shot in the playoff game was the last in a string of bad games for me that started somewhere around the new year and got worse as the season progressed.

Before I can respond to Hunter, another message comes through. This one shocks me the most because I’ve barely heard from her in months.

Aubrey: Hey. Miss you. I’ll be in your neck of the woods over the weekend. Do you want to have dinner? Or drinks? Both?

I haven’t seen her since Caleb’s New Year’s Eve party where I did something rash. Except she didn’t want me. She doesn’t want me. She made that clear when she ran away from me after we kissed at midnight. Acted like it didn’t happen. And I was too shocked and embarrassed to call her out on it.

New Year’s Eve changed our relationship. It’s the elephant in the room that neither of us wants to address for whatever reason. The humiliation of her rejection is still stinging.

Regardless, she’s the one person I will always make time for, no matter the state of our relationship. Or, in this case, the one person I’ll put real pants on for and venture out of my condo to see. I’m curious why she’s here. Her job and life are in Gainesville, which is part of the reason why we don’t see each other that often. Although now that it’s the off-season I have all the time in the world to do what I want, and maybe that means visiting her. Figuring out how to fix our broken friendship. I stash that idea away for later and respond to her message.

Me: Hey. Sure. Either or both are fine. What are you doing in town?

Aubrey: Final dress fittings for Clara’s wedding.

That’s right. I remember Aubrey telling me that her youngest sister, Clara, is getting married in Key West in June. I got the impression that she wasn’t thrilled about it. I guess I wouldn’t be either if I had a mother like Aubrey’s. I have a feeling being the oldest and last unmarried Fairchild sister is stressing her out. Not that Aubrey is dating anyone and chomping at the bit to get married—it’s more that her mother is pressuring her to settle down.

Unless something’s changed.

Maybe that’s why she’s avoided me since New Year’s. And it has nothing to do with what went down between us when the clock struck midnight.

The thought of Aubrey being with another guy sends a chill down my spine, and my fists ball up. I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. She’s your friend, I remind myself. She made it perfectly clear that’s all she wants to be.

But I want her for myself. I’ve been in love with Aubrey Fairchild since practically the day I met her in sophomore year of high school when she was my algebra tutor. Except I’ve never been good enough for her, not then and certainly not now when I’m staring the end of my career in the face. If only I could figure out how to convince my heart it’s time to get over her.

But I don’t know how.

I don’t know if I’ll ever know how.

Chapter three

Aubrey

I set the phone down and rub my temple. Another text message from my mother about Clara’s wedding. As if I don’t have enough to worry about, now she’s asking me, no, telling me that I better have a date. It’s bad enough that I have to spend the week with them in Key West, and now she expects me to bring someone.