“What time is it?”
“Eleven. Did I wear you out that much?” He chuckles, placing another kiss on my chest. My eyes rolling is enough of an answer for him. “Why don’t you take a shower, get ready, and we’ll go out for lunch,” he suggests. “Besides, Cal doesn’t believe I have a date today, so if I don’t leave, he’s going to annoy the hell out of me.”
“You told him you had a date?” I ask, unsure about this simple development.
Collin lies next to me with his head on my pillow. “I had to tell him something, and he’ll find out eventually. It’s easy enough to get him used to the idea of me dating someone and thinking it’s different than before, just because I’m not giving him any details.”
I nod because I don’t really want to make a big fuss. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he’s feeling today, but just by looking at him, it’s clear he’s feeling better than yesterday. Hearing him say so and confirm it would make me feel better, though. “I guess I should get my shower then.”
An hour later, I’m surprised and slightly worried when we pull up at the ice rink complex. Collin wants to be here voluntarily after having so much trouble lately?
“It’s chilly inside,” he says. “I thought it might be a good way to acclimate you to the weather here while having fun.” A bit of a crooked grin raises his lips. “Besides, it’ll almost be like a trip down memory lane.”
That’s true. Collin, Cal, and I would also go ice skating together with some other friends before Cal and I started dating. Cal didn’t have the patience to teach me how to skate, which should’ve been a sign, but Collin did.
We hold hands as we walk inside, rent skates, and Collin is impressed that I no longer need help tying my skates. Unlike back then, I see a different side of Collin. Despite his recent play, fans still support him, and those who are here skate up to him while we glide around the ice and ask for autographs.
Not only does he do that, but he has full-blown conversations with some of them. He truly makes them feel as if he’s available to them and in no hurry to end the conversation, even though he’s on a date. After each person leaves us, he glances at me with the cutest shy smile.
“You’re amazing,” I whisper after watching him spend twenty minutes talking to a kid and even showing her some stick handling skills with the stick he just signed for her.
Collin shrugs. “I’m just talking to people; it’s something I do all day every day, unfortunately,” he says with a bit of a laugh.
“But you don’t have to.”
Collin glances at me in surprise. “Yeah, I do,” he replies seriously. “It’s part of the job, and the fact that I don’t want to be the reason anyone turns away from hockey. You don’t think a quick conversation with a fan helps to further grow the game? That young girl? She’ll probably play in the Olympics one day because she’s dedicated already and wanting to learn, and hopefully by the time she’s an adult, women’s hockey will be even bigger than men’s.”
My eyebrows rise at hearing this. “You want the women to be more popular?”
Collin nods. “Or at the very least, just as popular. Within the next year, I want to start an organization or something geared just to girls and professional women’s hockey. They should have the same chance as us.”
Wow. “How come you’re passionate about this?”
Again, he shrugs. “Met a girl in college. You remember me talking about Carla?” I nod. “She played on the women’s team and we were friends.” He stares ahead as his cheeks flush. “Dated for a bit. Anyway, she would always talk about how it would be so hard on her having a career doing the exact same thing I planned on having a career in, and it’s always stayed with me how much that fucking sucks.” His voice lowers in shame. “I just haven’t gotten around to doing anything about it and I’ve decided it’s time to stop wasting time.”
“That’s awesome, Collin.”
“Not until I do something to help.”
He’s so amazing and I’m happy that he’s mine. We can finally make an us possible, and maybe, just maybe, we can get our happily ever after.
Monday morning comes as well as another practice. Another practice where my thoughts are so fragmented yet dominating, I have no clue what’s happening. Well, that’s not exactly true. I know based on the worried looks from the coaches and trainers and my teammates, even from my twin, that I am not doing well. I’m falling apart more and more and I don’t know how to stop it. Hockey and playing professionally are supposed to be my safe haven.
My speed is like a turtle compared to everyone else’s, despite the way my legs feel as if I’m pushing them to their absolute limit. When we practice shots, my aim…well, I might as well not be aiming. Instead of feeling like I’m on a team, part of a team, I feel like a flailing six-year-old in the middle of a grown man’s game.
What am I even doing here? Obviously I’ve lost my touch. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know if I’d even qualify as an amateur hockey player, but I’m definitely not playing like a pro. Do you know what makes things even worse? One fucking mistake was all it took to unravel me. That’s how weak and fragile I am.
I yank off my equipment and throw my ass into my stall, hunching over with my legs bouncing a mile a minute. I need to get out of here. I don’t belong here anymore. I inhale, realizing it’s loud even with my teammates talking, and still my lungs feel tight and restrained.
Fuck it.
I’m leaving.
I can’t do this anymore.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I drown on air and my irrational thoughts sever the bits of sanity I cling to.
I stand and take two steps before a hand grabs my arm. Instinct has me yanking away and the built-up hysteria causes me to yell, “Get the fuck off me!” My chests labors heavily. It takes me a second to realize it’s Brayden who stands before me with his hands up in surrender. “Leave me the fuck alone!” Every pair of eyes stares at me, but I don’t care.
I need to leave.
I need to change.
I need to get away from these people and out of this building.
My feet carry me toward the door as I hear, “Collin,” from a voice that sounds exactly like mine.
“Fuck off, Cal.” I push through the double doors, relishing in the loud thunks as they close behind me. I head to the other locker room where our clothes are stored and quickly change, not caring that everything is being left in the wrong place. I’m in the corridor and almost to the exit when I hear my name again, but I know that voice too, and it forces me to stop and face Coach Mike.
“You don’t need to leave, Collin.” His voice scrapes down my skin in irritation with the caution and worry in it. “Not only because of the state you’re in right now, but because we officially need a meeting.”
Oh, fuck. This is it. They’ve decided I’m useless and no good. They’re going to fire me. They’ll null my contract, pack my bags, and kick my ass out of the building, forbidding me to ever return. I’ve fucked up too many times, have become too mentally unstable, and they don’t want me around any longer. My anxiety swells like a tsunami in my chest, rising high above my six-two frame, and in seconds, crashes over me until I’m consumed with it.
Without a word, I turn and leave. I can kick myself out. Coach Mike calls after me, but I ignore him. My entire body feels like it’s a small-scale earthquake, trembling and wrecking havoc. My hands shake as I reach into my pocket for my phone. I need Julie.
She answers on the second ring as I slide down in between two cars, my legs unable to keep me standing.
“Collin? Are you okay?”
I open my mouth, but I can’t speak for breathing so hard.
“Collin, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
She needs to know they’re firing me and that means I’ll lose my apartment and she’ll have nowhere to stay and we’ll both be homeless, but instead, I say, “Help me, Jules.” I gulp in more of the cold air. “Fire me.” Chills run do
wn my cheeks, streaming straight from my eyes. “Breakdown.”
“Collin, I don’t understand. I need you to calm down, so you can talk to me.”
Calm down? When the world is falling apart? When it’s my world? A surge of anger rises and I throw my phone down on the pavement, busting it up. I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t do this.
I can’t.
My energy crumbles as I fall over and curl into a ball, a darkness cloaking my mind and keeping me safe.
“It’s okay, Collin. I’m here,” I hear, but my mind is one big buzz of I CAN’T.
Over and over, those two words repeat themselves. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t as I feel myself being pulled to stand. I can’t as my face is grasped.
And then Julie slaps me twice.
The sting causes me to blink at her.
“Collin, I’m here,” she reminds me. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”
Seeing her doesn’t even relax me. It saddens me. I drop my head, my forehead resting against hers. She needs a strong man and look at me. Might as well get this over with.
“I fucked up and Coach wants a meeting. They probably want to fire me.”
She takes one of my hands and holds it between hers. “They won’t,” she says with such certainty. “I don’t think they can, Collin. Not over this.” Julie seems scared, but she takes a breath. “Let’s go inside and find out what the meeting is about.”
Oh, hell no. I shake my head. “I’m not going back in there.”
“You won’t be alone.” She squeezes my hands, which shake like leaves in the wind. She gives them a tug and says, “Let’s go.”
Great. What other choice do I have now? I sigh, release her hands, and wrap one arm tightly around her neck to hold her close. Julie snakes her arms around my waist. The comfort I get from that makes me feel both strong and weak. Together, we walk back inside the building. It doesn’t take long before we can hear the loud voices of the guys. What fun it’ll be to face them after what I just did.
When I spot Cal, I remember who I’m with, her feelings, and everything that happened between them. I stop walking. Julie digs her nails into my side. The guys begin to notice us and eventually, so does Cal.
“Julie? What the fuck are you doing here?” Cal asks with a touch of accusation, his eyes roaming over every inch of the two of us. I can’t tell if he’s horrified, pissed, or both.
Coach Mike pokes his head out of his office, relieved to see me. “Collin, good. You’re still here.”
I focus on the most important thing right now, which is talking to Coach Mike.
“Who’s Julie?” I hear Marco ask.
“My ex-girlfriend,” Cal replies plainly.
The hallway is completely silent then, but it doesn’t matter to us because we’re in the office and Coach Mike closes the door behind us. He stands in front of us and holds his hand out to Julie.
“I’m Coach Mike.”
“I’m Julie.” She glances up at me. “Collin’s best friend,” she adds. I pull her closer, wondering why she didn’t say girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you, Julie. Why don’t you two have a seat?” He motions to a pair of seats while walking around to his own behind his desk.
Julie moves forward, but I yank her back to my side and shake my head. I’m barely in control here. I dip my head and very quietly whisper, “I can’t let you go. You’re the only thing that’s holding me together.”
“Okay.” She nudges me with a hand on her back and I frown, but move forward. “Sit,” she orders. After a moment of hesitation, I do and she follows, but she sits on the arm of the chair. All the while Coach has been watching us.
“How are you doing right now, Collin?” he asks. I simply shake my head. How could I express how I’m doing? And in a way that wouldn’t freak him out? “Would it be correct to say you had a panic attack earlier?”
I nod and Julie chimes in with, “I think it would be safe to say he’s either still in the middle of it or hasn’t recovered from whatever happened earlier.” She glances at me and all I can do is drop my head in shame. “Are you embarrassing him about his anxiety?” Julie suddenly demands to know.
“Excuse me?” Coach Mike replies with surprise.
It’s nice she’s concerned, but she doesn’t need to accuse my coach of anything. “Jules,” I say quietly. I squeeze her hip and shake my head to shut her up.
But that doesn’t work. She lowers her voice and argues, “Collin, you’re acting like you have something to be ashamed of. To be embarrassed about. You don’t. You handle this the best way you can and you never act like this in front of me. What else am I supposed to think? They must be making you feel uncomfortable about it!”
We aren’t doing this now. I need to know my future with the team. If there is one. Ignoring Julie, I ask Coach, “What did you want to meet about?”
Coach Mike eyes Julie for a moment, as if he wants to address what she said, but he decides to focus on me instead, thank god. “We’ve been talking and everyone agrees it would be best if you started seeing a therapist, two actually. One of your choice, for things away from work, and a sports psychologist, as your disorder never affected work until you scored on Savage in that game. If you’d like, you can also take a week or two off to decompress, recoup, whatever will help.”
Thank fuck. They aren’t firing me. That’s all my mind hears right now. “Yes, sir,” I automatically reply.
“Good. Do you want the time off?”
“Yes,” Julie answers, causing me to jerk my head toward her. “Don’t argue. You could use it and do you really want to deal with the stress hockey is obviously causing you while you deal with the stress of seeing two new people? If they’re willing, take it, Collin. All you do at home is sleep because you’re mentally exhausted.” Fuck. I wince with the truth she’s hitting me with and the fact that she’s doing it in front of my coach. “You don’t have to take the entire time off.”
“But what’s my reason? They have to report something.”
“It’s an undisclosed medical condition,” Coach Mike says. “We can’t use family as a reason when Cal won’t be off too. But we can say it’s medical, which it is, and we don’t have to report anything more than that.”
“I don’t know.” And I don’t. This is starting to sound messy and complicated and bad.
“He’s doing it,” Julie confirms for me while I frown. “Is that all?”
“You’re not making me look good, Jules,” I mumble. She’s sitting here, making my decisions for me as if I can’t.
“It’s okay, Collin. I’m glad you have someone other than your brother looking out for you. Go on home, rest, and we’ll be in touch about the sports psychologist. Let us know when you’ve found your own therapist, or if you’d like us to help you with that as well.”
Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s right. Part of this deal is seeing a therapist. Two motherfucking shrinks. I quickly thank Coach and stand to haul ass out of there.
Except Cal waits for us in the hallway. He is the last thing I need right now. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the memo.
“What the hell, Collin? What are you doing with her? Are you crazy?”
I snap.
I’m sick and fucking tired of him calling me crazy. I charge toward him, wrap my hand around his throat, and hold him against the wall. Julie makes some sort of protest, but my mind is fully on Cal right now.
“Don’t you dare question me. Not after how you treated her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Collin.”
My hand tightens around his neck. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Cal. You abandoned her when she needed you.”
His eyes widen. “You know?” he wheezes.
“I know. Get off your fucking high horse, stay out of my life, and don’t you dare call me crazy again.” Finally, I release him. Without waiting for him to say anything to me, I take Julie’s hand and walk ou
t of there. He calls my name, but I ignore that too. Cal can go fuck himself.
Julie, thankfully, doesn’t make a comment before we go our separate ways to drive home. I’m not a fan of this new development, but at least I still have my job. Dr. Gressley will be thrilled, I’m sure. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. Talking to a stranger about my private life sounds impossible. Not to mention, I have my trust issues because I want to make sure this part of my life stays private.
My life is one huge clusterfuck right now when it should be such a happy time because Julie’s here and we’re testing out a relationship together. My sweet Julie holds her silence until we’re inside my apartment. That’s about as much as I can ask for.
“How are you feeling about what your coach said? Or is it still soaking in?”
“You should know I don’t like it based on the other day,” I point out as we sit on the couch. Marmalade saunters over and rubs against our legs.
“Can you tell me why, though?” she asks with genuine confusion.
I don’t really want to, but I don’t think I have a choice. “It scares the shit out of me, Jules,” I admit. The woman has some patience today because she simply waits for me to explain. With a sigh, I turn my head to look at her as Marmalade jumps onto my lap for some head scratches. “When I see my psychiatrist, I always wear a hoodie, sunglasses, and a hat. They refer to me by my middle name because above all, I want my privacy super protected.
“I don’t want a soul to know I go through this. I don’t want the world to find out I struggle with this problem. And now, I’m supposed to go talk to a stranger about this? How can I trust them? How am I supposed to open up to them? What if I don’t make any sense? It sounds like a pure fucking nightmare, Julie.”
And it’s a nightmare I’m about to walk through.
Without thinking, I say the first thing that comes to mind: “Collin, quit whining and being a baby. The privacy thing you can set up, I’m sure, but the rest? That’s all you worrying and finding excuses not to go for no actual good reason.”
His eyes widen with shock.
Where We Belong (Carolina Rebels Book 8) Page 7
