Trent is having a baby. My family is losing our freedom. I have to choose a path I’m not sure I want to pursue. The Queen’s still out there. Preston is practically married to Bex at this point. Even Tucker and Drake have kept the same girls around for more than one night. Our lives are changing and so is our dynamic.
Pretty soon, Trent will have a baby running around. We’ll all be in different cities, playing for different teams, and against each other—if we’re all lucky enough to be selected in the NHL Draft.
A girl climbs onto my lap, and when she rocks her hips back and forth shaking her tits in my face, I couldn’t care less. Everything feels numb. It’s like my body is here, but my mind is somewhere else. Even with all the naked girls dancing around me, one rubbing against my cock, I still can’t get hard. Not that I want to. This stripper does nothing for me.
She doesn’t have Shannon’s green eyes or long dark hair. This girl has a deep shade of auburn and looks more like Trent’s girl. There’s not a single bit of the woman who occupies my thoughts in this girl.
Preston’s next to me, ignoring the girl on his lap as he pounds another beer. He doesn’t want to get an earful of shit from Bex for getting a lap dance. I can see it in his eyes that he’s already thinking over what he’s going to tell her. Clearly, he’s not into it. Neither am I. Both of us are here for Trent and nothing more.
Drake, Tucker, and Trent are on the other side of the room from me with strippers on their laps. I can’t see their faces, the girls blocking them. This is so fucking pointless. None of us even want to be here.
Well, Drake and Tucker never turn down a lap dance, though I’m sure Taylor won’t be thrilled with Drake if he tells her. I want to go the hell home. From the looks of it, so does Preston.
I miss Shannon. I miss having her in my bed, waking up to her making breakfast for the house. We were all getting used to having her around, and now she’s that gone, I realize how much I took her for granted. I should’ve been honest with her from the start. She was right about deserving better, which is why I haven’t chased after her. I’m giving her the space she needs.
I tip the bottle in my hand to my lips and drink the rest of the beer, and then I throw the girl on my lap off me. Because I’m done for the night. I need to go home and figure out how to get my old life back.
Chapter Seventeen
Jamie
Boston College is a hard team to beat. They’re running our asses up and down the ice forcing my team to step up our game. Preston fights for possession of the puck. He lines his stick up against his opponent’s, taking away his shot. A fight ensues, and Preston exchanges words with Kellan Lehane, a winger for Boston College.
Lehane plays dirty, he’s a total dickhead, and the biggest shit-talker I’ve ever met. Preston has had issues with him for years. Lately, he’s been talking about how he wants to make him pay. For what, I have no idea. He never elaborates. But now, I can’t help but wonder what’s going on between them.
Lehane taunts Preston, both of them nudging each other, scrambling for the puck. As our captain, Preston is completely focused. His mind is always on the game, but something’s bothering him, and it has to do with Lehane. Keeping my distance, I watch as Tucker appears at Lehane’s other side. A quick squabble ensues between Preston and Lehane which gives Tucker enough of an opening to steal the puck.
As Lehane turns to go after Tucker, Preston does something uncharacteristic and pushes him into the boards. He smashes Lehane’s face into the Plexiglas, holding him there with his gloved hand. The referee calls a penalty as he should. Five minutes for boarding gets Preston thrown into the sin bin.
The linesmen have to pull Preston and Lehane apart. One of them tugs at Preston’s jersey, skating in the direction of the penalty box. Now, we’re down a skater for the next five minutes.
Way to go, Prez, I think, shooting daggers in Preston’s direction.
His eyes are still fixed on Lehane, who’s headed toward his team’s bench.
After killing Boston’s power play, Preston’s back on the ice with me. And again, Lehane is all over him. What the fuck is with these two? Preston has the puck, and Lehane sweeps his stick at his leg. I expect the ref to call a penalty on Lehane for slashing, but of course, Boston gets the home advantage, and no whistle is blown.
Preston scrambles to keep possession of the puck, and when he has a clear line to Tucker, he passes it. Tucker takes off down the ice. He’s one of the fastest players on our team. With seconds on the clock, he shoots the puck, and I mentally cross my fingers.
We need this win. The puck hits the back of the net, and Tuck scores the winning goal. As the goal horn blares, the rink erupts into a series of boos and cheers. We’re in Boston and just beat the home team so it’s expected. The few rounds of applause we receive are from the few people who traveled from Strick U for the game, Bex and Taylor among them.
We huddle together, celebrating our victory, patting each other on the back and helmets. I look around for Preston—he’s nowhere in sight. My gaze falls to where he once was with Lehane.
I stare in shock at Preston as he rips off his gloves and punches Kellan Lehane in the face. The game is over. We won. He needs to act like the team captain right now, but he’s blind with rage over Lehane. Preston’s taking this too far.
I tug on Trent and Tucker’s jerseys, dragging them over to pull Preston off him. Lehane’s face is a mess. Blood and sweat mix together running down his face onto his jersey and the ice. Trent and I get a good hold on Preston and pull him off Lehane.
Coach Bryant is behind us yelling at Preston. Bex is in the stands with her hands covering her mouth. She taps on the glass, eyes wide in shock. Preston glances over at her, shaking his head.
Was the fight because of her?
Did he just piss away his career over a girl?
* * *
One week has passed since the Boston Massacre. That’s what I have jokingly called it since Preston broke Kellan Lehane’s nose and killed his career. He’s suspended from the league, which means he’s finished. His dreams of going pro are now over.
Coach Bryant reamed him out over the suspension. He’s even taken it out on us, forcing us to practice every day. We have no breaks until the end of the season. No one in the house has said it aloud, but we all know Preston’s to blame, and he still won’t tell us why he beat the shit out of Kellan Lehane.
I rush downstairs when I hear a knock on the front door, not surprised to find Bex on the other side. She’s been stopping by to check on Preston. For some reason, he won’t talk to her. He broke three of his knuckles and sprained his hand. That’s how hard he hit Lehane. But I don’t see what Bex has to do with any of this.
I force a smile for Bex’s benefit. She looks terrible as if she hasn’t slept in days mirroring Preston’s disheveled appearance lately.
“Preston is sleeping,” I lie.
He makes everyone in the house tell her the same thing. Every time she’s stopped by this week we’ve had to lie for Preston. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s acting like an asshole toward her for no apparent reason. She didn’t force him to ruin his career.
Bex tries to hide her disappointment, but it’s written all over her face. “Can you relay a message for me?”
Leaning against the doorframe, I shove a hand through my hair to push it off my forehead. “Yeah. What do you want me to tell him?”
Preston hasn’t been to class in a week. He refuses to leave the house and barely ventures out of his bedroom. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s as if he has given up on life.
“Tell Preston I’m sorry,” Bex says. “I shouldn’t have involved him in all of this. This is my fault, and now he’s paying for it.”
“Wait… what?” My eyebrows rise in confusion. “What are you talking about? Why is this your fault?”
“He didn’t tell you?” She sounds surprised.
I cross my arms over my chest, wondering what Preston is keeping from
me. “Tell me what?”
“Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “I assumed he told you since you two are like brothers. What did he tell his parents about the fight?”
“That he reacted without thinking. Lehane and Preston have never gotten along. They’ve always gone after each other on the ice. But never like this. So, you’re saying you had something to do with the fight.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “I wish I could take it all back.”
“Bex, spit it out,” I growl, irritated with all the mystery surrounding the fight and Preston’s suspension. “What’s going on? Preston won’t talk to me, and now you’re being all cryptic.”
“Sorry.” Her eyes lower to the ground. “I don’t mean to be. Let Preston know I came by, would you? Ask him to call me… if he’s feeling up to it.”
“Sure.” I clutch the door, about to close it when I add, “Your dad probably told you already, but Preston’s suspended for the rest of the season which effectively means his college career is over. He’s upset right now. I don’t know what I’d do if it were me, but I do know he’s not taking it well. He worked his ass off his entire life to get here, and now it might have been for nothing.”
Tears fall from her cheeks, and she wipes them away with the back of her hand. “I can’t even imagine what he’s going through.”
“He’s a hot head. He just needs time. Okay?”
She flashes a closed mouth smile, tears wetting her face. “Thanks, Jamie.”
After I close the door, I head upstairs to talk to Preston. He owes me an explanation. All of us are suffering because of Bex. Now, I need to know why.
I knock on Preston’s bedroom door even though it’s cracked open. He doesn’t acknowledge me. So, I stroll into his room and plop down on the edge of his bed like it’s mine.
“Bex was here,” I tell him. “Again. When are you going to man up and talk to her?”
“I don’t want to deal with anyone.” He props himself up on the stack of pillows behind his head. “You’re lucky I’m talking to you.”
I shake my head at him, annoyed. “Prez, I know this feels like the end of the world, but your hand will heal, and when it does, you can still play hockey.”
“You don’t know if that’s true.” His face scrunches in anger, and his gaze travels over the hockey posters on his wall. “The doctor said anything could happen. We won’t know for sure until I heal if I’ll have the same range of motion in my hand. And what pro team will want someone who was suspended by the NCAA for violently attacking another player? I have no fucking shot of ever making it pro now.”
“With your dad’s connections, I’m sure he can find you a team.”
He glares at me, flexing his jaw. “I don’t want to play for some farm league or in fucking Russia. This was the dream. You, me, the guys, and the NHL.”
“You’re too good to get passed over,” I admit because it’s the truth. “Something has to come from this.”
“You don’t know that,” he challenges, leaning forward. “Sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m so fucking mad I can’t even think straight. I keep replaying that night over and over in my head. I fucked up so bad that no number of apologies or money can fix what I did. I have to live with the decision I made for the rest of my life.”
“Bex said to tell you she’s sorry for getting you involved. What was she talking about?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, he sighs. “It’s not my story to tell. Sorry. I can’t go into it.”
“You fought Lehane because of Bex?”
He nods, his face devoid of emotion.
“You have to give me something, bro. C’mon.”
“I wish I could.” His tone sounds sincere. “Bex doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“Maybe I can help,” I offer.
“No one can. What Lehane did to deserve that beating won’t change my suspension.”
“Are you done with Bex?” I press my palm to the mattress, shifting my weight. “She’s a good girl. You would be stupid to push her away.”
He snorts. “Like you did with Shannon.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh at the mention of her name. “Things with Shan are complicated.”
“So is my relationship with Bex,” he retorts, his nostrils flared. “I need a break. From everything and everyone. I don’t want to talk about my suspension or my career. I just want to be left alone. She’s a reminder of what I lost. I don’t blame her, but I don’t want to see her right now. I need time to process.”
I push myself up from the bed. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Opening my mouth, I hesitate with my next words. “Don’t shut everyone out, Prez. We all want to help you. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
He steals his eyes away from mine, avoiding me. “There’s nothing anyone can do for me.”
Irritated with his attitude and the general shitty mood in the house, I sigh. “Okay. You know where to find me if you want to talk or play Mage Wars. I beat level fifty-five last night. You should’ve seen this wizard I had to face. I called my dad after I beat it to curse him out for making the game so fucking hard.”
He laughs for the first time in over a week. “Did you have to answer another riddle? I hate those fucking questions.”
“Nah, this time I had to save up enough magic dust to break through an enchanted fortress. I must’ve died at least a hundred times before I figured out how to defeat the mages in each room.”
He sits up, one leg crossed over the other, interested in the game. “What rooms?”
Grinning, I sit back down on the edge of the bed, thrilled to see him slowly going back to the old Preston. “After you defeat the giant that guards the enchanted fortress, you have to steal the magic from the mages in each room.”
I rehash every level I beat in detail. For once, Preston listens without interrupting me. And I know in this moment, Preston will be okay. We’ll all be okay. And after I get my act together, I need to fix what I’ve broken with Shannon.
Chapter Eighteen
Shannon
I hurry into Broad Street Beans to get a break from the chill outside. The scent of coffee brewing smacks me in the face. Rubbing my hands together, I tip my nose in the air and take in the delicious aroma. I try to save my money for more important things than expensive coffee drinks, but it’s too damn cold outside to wait for the bus without a warm cup in my hand.
I order a hot chocolate, and then move over to the counter where the barista is setting down mugs. The shop is crowded at this hour. Most of the campus appears to be inside, not an open seat in the house. So much for hanging out here until the bus comes.
After my drink is ready, I spin around to leave when someone calls out my name. It’s a woman’s voice, one I don’t recognize until I turn around. Taylor Bradshaw has her hand raised in the air waving to me from across the crowded space.
Smiling, I wave back. She gestures for me to come over to the table where she’s sitting with Bex Bryant. Bex flashes a closed-mouth smile in my direction. She looks upset, her gaze lowering to the table in front of her.
“Hey,” I say as I approach their table.
Taylor pulls out an extra chair and pats the wooden seat. “Sit with us. We have some room.”
I swat my hand to refuse her offer. “No, that’s okay. I have to take the bus soon. Gotta get to work.”
“Hang out for a minute,” Taylor insists, tapping her fingers on the seat. “We haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I broke up with Jamie,” I admit.
Taylor nods. “I heard.”
Bex sniffs and rubs the corner of her eye. “Preston’s suspended,” she announces. “Which means his college hockey career is over. And now, he won’t even talk to me. Because he blames me for everything that’s happened.”
I sit between Taylor and Bex, drinking from the Styrofoam cup in my hand. Clueless, I ask, “What happened?”
Taylor’s head snaps in my direction. “You haven’t heard?”
“I thought everyone on campus knew by now,” Bex says. “I’m actually surprised it hasn’t been blasted all over Dethroned.”
“I hate that bitch,” Taylor growls.
“Me, too,” Bex adds. “She’s such an asshole. Like our lives aren’t hard enough we need someone with nothing better to do than sneaking around behind our backs to report on us.”
“Jamie’s been looking for her since her first post,” I offer. “He couldn’t handle being bested by a girl.”
Bex snorts. “Typical man. They can’t deal with a girl doing anything that trumps their accomplishments.”
“That’s not what Preston is doing,” Taylor says. “You just need to give him time to process.”
She rolls her eyes and then takes a sip from her mug. “I have never met a more complicated man in my life. I never thought Preston would act like such a baby. Just because I was the reason he fought Kellan doesn’t mean I should suffer for his stupid decision. I love him even more for standing up for me, but I really wish he’d have backed down to him and just let it go. Now, my past could ruin our future. And it’s all my fault.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Taylor says. “You didn’t force him to beat the shit out of Kellan. And let’s face it, Kellan deserved more than a beat down. I’m surprised your dad didn’t jump in, too.”
“I’m so confused,” I interject. “Who’s Kellan, and why did Preston get into a fight with him?”
“My ex-boyfriend,” Bex says, her voice low and soft. “He did horrible things to me when we were in high school. I told Preston about it. He promised not to go after him. But apparently, Kellan egged him on, and Preston snapped. So now, he has his friends giving me shitty excuses for why he can’t talk to me. He hasn’t left the house all week. It’s not like him to miss class.”
Jocking Jameson: Face-Off Legacy #4 Page 11
