by Frost, Sosie
The whistles blew, and the rest of the media shot out of their seats, grabbing their cameras as the shouting echoed from the rink.
The team blasted blue line to blue line, their skates chewing through the ice as they raced each other to the brawl breaking out in the middle of practice.
Leo swung first, clobbering Felix in the side of his helmet. Felix ducked the second punch. He tossed his jersey onto the ice and circled Leo with raised fists and an already bloodied nose.
Adrian reached the skirmish before the rest of the team. He skidded between the two men and held his arms out to make some space.
Wrong place.
Wrong time.
Felix let loose and jumped Leo. His fists went wide as Leo ducked, and he accidentally connected with Adrian’s chin.
Adrian staggered. Fell. Crashed to the ice.
And that’s when Felix’s stick slashed between Adrian’s legs.
I leapt out of the seat, nearly toppling the media’s laptops and cameras. My stomach turned.
Not again.
A grunted profanity echoed through the arena, captured in perfect audio quality for the waiting cameras.
The man couldn’t catch a break.
The coaches separated Leo and Felix, but the trainers dashed to Adrian. They brandished towels and water bottles, but Adrian’s snarl forced them away.
He lumbered to his skates and snatched the stick from Felix. With a fierce crack, he snapped the stick over his knee and threw the pieces of wood into the net, narrowly avoiding a pissed off Oz.
Adrian shoved the coaches away from Leo and Felix as the team went silent. He grabbed both men by the collar and hauled them close.
“This shit stays off the ice.” Adrian’s ragged words splintered like the ruined stick. He stared the men down, nose-to-nose as his profanity shamed them. “Fuck this bullshit. You’re supposed to be working. You’re both a part of this goddamned team—so fucking act like it.”
Adrian pointed to the rest of the Forge. A few of the men chuckled, amazed to learn that their captain did indeed have a temper, and it only took a slash to his virtue and vice to rouse it. He pushed the trainers away and skated to the locker room by himself to inspect the damage caused by the hit.
Fortunately, he didn’t look hurt. Just pissed.
Angier than I’d seen him in a long time.
As angry as he’d been since our night together.
I didn’t know how to help him then. And I wasn’t sure how to fix it now. But I had to do something. For him. For us. For our future…if we still had one.
I had to tell him that I loved him.
And I prayed our friendship would survive.
21
Adrian
Here I thought I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders because I was the only one who could handle the pressure.
Fuck, was I wrong.
There was nothing noble about getting crushed under the burden of my own stupidity.
The team was a disaster. The only thing worse than the undisciplined catastrophe was the goddamned violence which bloodied members of our own team.
What the hell was I supposed to do with men like these?
Half of the team pissed on the rule book. The other half got pissed on by the league.
And the media made us famous for all the wrong reasons. We earned headlines because of our past injuries, became the subject of panel shows regarding our depraved behavior, and broke Twitter with every trending hashtag that featured some aspect of our genitalia.
And, somehow, I was supposed to unite us.
Fucking how?
The situation had spiraled so far out of my control that, for the first time, I thought long and hard about how much seven more years in this league really meant to me. Like a fool, I’d signed the contract and indebted myself to the Forge, believing I could build the team around me and lead us to a championship.
My idiocy didn’t surprise me anymore. Not about the Forge. Not my body. Not about Clover.
But was it even worth begging her forgiveness anymore? Because she was right. At the end of the day, after the showers and the media interviews, when the lights went out in the locker room and the doors slammed shut for the last time…
All I had was my guilt.
No one waited for me. I had no reason to peel my ass from the bench.
Home was meaningless.
My bed was empty.
No family to call my own.
And I had no one to blame but myself.
Clover had seen it all happening, yet I still blamed her for the truth. Every loneliness and isolation I saw in her was a projection of my own reality. Hockey had been my life, my obsession, and my only solace. I had nothing else.
Except for her.
And I didn’t know if that was good or bad, right or wrong, or if I’d help or harm her.
Clover expected the world of me, but I’d broken every promise. I couldn’t offer her a future. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine a future for myself. For far too long I’d assumed hockey would fulfill all of my needs.
And then the Forge drafted me.
Now the ice didn’t feel as familiar, the stick as comforting.
Before moving to Ironfield, I’d never given a single thought to what would happen after the games. The arena was the only honest and uncomplicated facet of my life. Figured if I showed up, worked hard, and won games, everything would make sense.
How many times could a man be wrong?
I showered, dressed, and packed my things in the dark silence of the locker room, though I knew the instant I reached the parking lot, I wouldn’t be alone.
Wasn’t the first time Clover waited for me after practice. Usually, she’d bring me a sandwich or Gatorade. Today, she had nothing. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned against her car. Shadows swelled into the empty lot, broken only by the occasional headlights funneling over the bridges and out of the city.
Perfect night to make terrible mistakes.
“Hey…” Clover spoke a single, sweet word.
Her gentle greeting almost dropped me to my knees. She offered warmth and comfort with a smile, but hers was a gift I no longer deserved.
“How long have you been here?” The words sounded gruff.
She hesitated. “Came to watch a fight, and a hockey practice broke out.”
Great.
She wasn’t the only one to witness the debacle that was our training camp. Sports Nation had already released the footage. I had a voicemail from Magnolia Mallory warning me about the spin. Not that she could do much to help. The media would run with whatever boosted their ratings the most, even if it came at the expense of my career.
“I saw the hit,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“That’s why I wear a cup.”
“Maybe you should wear two.”
Might’ve been a joke if I had anything worth protecting. “I didn’t get hurt.”
“Good.” She kicked a pebble down the yellow line separating our cars, separating us. “That was…a tough practice.”
“Same as always.”
“It’ll turn around.”
Damn her optimism. It never used to irritate me.
“It won’t turn around,” I said. “The team is fucked, and nothing I do will fix it.”
I hated making the woman upset. She nibbled her bottom lip as she attempted to chase away my concerns.
“Doesn’t sound like the Adrian Alaric I know. You’ve never backed down from a challenge.”
That was when I had a reason to fight.
But life had changed, and a man’s will was only as strong as his woman needed him to be.
I welcomed the encroaching darkness. At least she wouldn’t see my face. I could hide it in my voice, but Clover too easily read my pain. Worse—she could end it. Fix it. Make it all better with a stroke of her fingers and the brush of her kiss.
And I couldn’t allow that to happen.
This misery was my own. My
newfound obsession. A reminder that an entire world existed beyond the rink, and I had destroyed all of it.
“I used to figure out solutions to these problems,” I said. “See a way forward. But not now. I can’t fix this.”
Any of it.
“You can’t do it alone.” She took my hand. “But maybe we can do it together.”
Her touch spread a familiar, comforting heat. I might’ve pulled her into my arms and accepted the warmth over my aching body. Might’ve let her calming presence soothe my every trouble.
But not tonight.
Not ever again.
Not while the guilt coiled around my throat like a noose and waited to kick the chair out from under me.
I hadn’t seen her since that night, when I’d taken her savagely and remorselessly. Selfishly. I fucked her with one purpose and one purpose only.
To get her pregnant.
And it wasn’t because she’d asked me to start a family.
It wasn’t because I’d wanted to make her happy.
It wasn’t even because the thought got me off.
I’d wanted to impregnate her to prove that I could. I’d meant to fuck a baby into her to reaffirm that I was still a man, and that the injury hadn’t destroyed the most basic, primal part of my being.
But after four months with no success, I’d learned the truth.
And it wasn’t fair to her to continue the lie.
“You should go home,” I said. “I don’t need your help.”
Clover always had a defiant streak. I resented it now.
“That’s not true, and you know it,” she said. “I’m going home with you. We have a lot to talk about.”
I didn’t want to talk. Sure as hell didn’t want to listen.
And I didn’t want to hurt her any more than I already had.
“Clover…” Her name stung my throat, acid burning through an already raw wound. “Ever since we were kids, I’ve only tried to make you happy. I’ve done all I could to take care of you.”
“Adrian…”
“You said that I had nothing else in my life besides hockey. That’s wrong. I had you. And I depended on you always being there to comfort me, heal me, be with me. I never needed anyone because I already had you. And, as long as you were happy, my world was complete.”
Clover hesitated. Her dark eyes flittered to the ground, as if summoning the courage from her toes and working it up.
“You know what I’m going to say to you.” Her whisper only caused more pain. “And you know how terrifying it is.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t say it.”
“Why not? Don’t you feel it too?”
Dangerous, stupid question.
And she already knew the answer without torturing me.
“When I look at you…I don’t see my best friend anymore,” I said.
My confession hurt. Clover nearly crumbled. She leaned against her car, breathing ragged.
“I hate that,” she whispered.
“I don’t. Because I see something wonderful instead. I see someone beautiful. A bright, vibrant, determined woman who finally knows what she wants in life. A woman who is eager to share that life with someone else.” My throat tightened. “But that man isn’t me, Clover.”
“Why? You can’t tell me why.”
I could.
And it would destroy all that we had left.
“I can’t give you a baby.”
She didn’t deny it, but she fought me nevertheless.
“We’ve only just started trying, Adrian.”
“The doctors warned me about this after my injury. Said I’d recover, but we had no idea about the complications. A year ago, I didn’t care. Everything else was secondary to getting back on the ice. I convinced myself it wasn’t important.” The thought disgusted me now. “But the injury has been on my mind every second of every day since taking the hit. It’s ruined me. I’ve got no idea if the team will respect me enough to lead…or if I can look into the eyes of my best friend and tell her we have no future.”
“Don’t you give up on me now. You’re just frustrated.” A tear rolled over Clover’s cheek, but she wiped it away with a rough hand. “It’s been a long day.”
One of many.
“It’s been a long year.” I forced my gaze from her, loathing myself as a second tear threatened to fall. “And I can’t pretend anymore. You know I would do anything to make you smile, to hear your laugh, to take away your pain—”
“You do. You always have.”
And that was the biggest lie of all.
“That’s why I’m ending it. Before this all crashes down, and I can’t be the man you depend on anymore.” And that future terrified me more than anything. “I want to be the one who makes your dreams come true, but I refuse to be the man who prevents you from getting the only future you want.”
Clover had a temper on her, but she rarely got angry with me.
Now, she turned hellcat. Furious. She aimed the profanity right between my eyes.
“You’re a stupid son of a bitch, you know that?” Clover slapped at my chest. “Jesus Christ, Adrian. For once in your life, stop being so fucking noble and listen to me.”
I couldn’t.
Because the instant she talked me down was the moment I’d surrender to her forever. I had to be strong enough to know when to back away.
“It’s done.” The words cut but I didn’t bleed. Heart had broken too long ago to do me any good. “We’re done.”
“We’re nowhere near finished. We never even started.”
Clover’s breath shook, but she stuffed every bit of emotion deep down. Mine was the only shoulder she’d ever cried on, but she’d be damned before she let me see any more of her tears.
“You don’t get it,” she said. “It was my fault we never started anything. My fault that we never realized how we truly felt. Even when I knew what you wanted, I didn’t act in time. Maybe you forgot, but I couldn’t.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you remember what you said to me in the hospital after your surgery?”
What did she expect from me? I remembered nothing except excruciating, humiliating pain.
“I don’t have a fucking clue,” I said.
And this only made it worse. Clover stared at me; her eyes so bright with tears it almost disguised her sorrow.
“You asked me to marry you,” she whispered.
Blindsided, and I wasn’t even on the ice.
I staggered back. “I what?”
“For the past four months, you’ve been asking me why I’ve suddenly wanted a baby. The truth is…it wasn’t my idea. It was yours, Adrian.”
My stomach knotted, but I had some dignity remaining to not heave it over the parking lot.
“I don’t understand.”
She spoke quickly, as if she could outrun the regret. “I came to the recovery room after your surgery. You were groggy from the anesthesia. Confused, but not about this. Not about what you wanted. You took me by the hand and asked me to marry you. And when I freaked, you told me that while you were on the ice, a split second passed when you thought about your life. And it scared you. Not because you were alone. Not because of the hit.”
The words rose from the depths of my subconscious—a desire I had so long denied it felt more like a hazy dream.
“I remember the panic,” I said. The memory fizzled in the haze of my mind—a soul-crushing fear. “The instant after the hit, when the pain was so bad I thought my heart would stop on the ice…I thought about my life. Realized I had nothing except you.”
The words hung in the air.
But the confession poisoned us both.
“You said you wanted to make a life outside of the game,” she said. “If the injury was too severe and ended your career, at least you could be happy starting a family with me.”
“Don’t.”
Clover swallowed to hide the pain and failed. “You asked me for the baby, Adrian. Y
ou asked me to start a family. You asked me to be in your life forever.”
“And you agreed.” That memory returned only to punish me. “You agreed, Clover.”
“And you forgot. You fell asleep and forgot it all.”
Silence.
I looked away. “But you didn’t forget.”
“How could I? I had no idea you felt that way. And it scared me.”
“You think I wasn’t scared?”
“But the next morning, everything went back to normal. I thought…maybe it was the painkillers or the anesthesia. And so I pretended it didn’t happen. Except…”
I hated to hear it, but her confession was all that kept me standing.
“I never knew how much I wanted those things too.” Her sweet voice cracked with timid honesty. “I didn’t know how much I loved you until I let myself love you. And I do, Adrian. I always have. And I think you’ve always loved me.”
I wouldn’t admit it aloud.
Not where something so sweet could cause such heartache.
“It doesn’t make this right,” I said.
“Of course it does. It’s the only thing in this world that makes any sense now.”
No.
That made it an injustice. A tragedy.
A worthless cause that would destroy us both.
“We agreed to have a baby,” I said. “A baby is what you wanted.”
“Now I want you too.”
I had taken greater hits than this, and I’d endured a pain just as severe.
But she hadn’t. And I’d do all I could to protect her from it.
“I can’t make a baby.” My whisper frosted us in a remorseful chill. “And I don’t want you resenting me for the rest of your life because we couldn’t start a family.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“And I don’t want you thinking that you can’t start a life with someone else. Someone who can give you that future.”
“I don’t want anyone else.” Clover took my hand and placed it over her heart. “I know that now.”
“Exactly. You know it now.” I pulled away from her. The hardest two steps I ever had to take. “But what about in the future? We can fool around all we want, but sooner or later you’ll want that family more than a roll in the sheets. If we keep living in that denial, it won’t just ruin our friendship—it’ll ruin us.”
