Sarah pulled a colorful, girlie-looking version of a dopp kit out of her bag and tossed it on the bed.
“Might have?” Her guffaw wasn’t encouraging.
Deflect, deflect. The ache was still too raw to deal with. “Let’s leave it for now. There’s a team dinner day after tomorrow. Wanna go with?”
“What about Jess?”
Gage’s stomach cinched. No way was Jess going to stay behind. He shrugged off his annoyance. “She’s invited, if she wants to come.”
“Oh, I’m sure she will.” Sarah pasted on a fake smile. “Gee, these next few days are gonna be so much fun. What do you have planned next? Bamboo shoots under our eyelids?”
“Bamboo shoots are food. You mean bamboo slivers.”
“Whatever.” She flapped her hand.
“I have no frickin’ clue. You guys shop and leave me alone?” Gage had canceled the Dillon trip. Seeing the ice castles didn’t hold the same appeal without Lily and Daisy.
Jessica stuck her head in. “Hey, you two. There’s a fresh pot of coffee. Ready to come downstairs?”
Gage sent Sarah a look that conveyed how much he didn’t want to. She acknowledged it with a subtle head wag. “Sure, Jess. Just give us a few more minutes, huh?”
When she’d left, Sarah turned to Gage. “So what are you gonna do?”
“Try to survive the next few days, then throw myself into the playoffs.”
While trying to figure out how to swallow my decision about Dave Grimson without choking to death.
Late last night, in the midst of all the other crap, he’d opted not to throw his captain under the bus—because it meant the least amount of fallout for everyone connected to Dave Grimson. What they didn’t know and all that, or so Gage told himself. But he couldn’t escape the truth: saving his captain’s ass meant saving his own ass. And it wasn’t sitting well. Grimson had broken the rules, and Gage was helping him do it.
Lord Stanley beckoned, and he’d chosen not to lose sight of the puck above black, white, and following his moral compass. That decision left a hole in his chest and an ache in his gut.
The morning of the team dinner, Gage leaned back against the couch, hands laced behind his head, enjoying the first quiet he’d had in days. Sarah and Jess were out, and his mom was in her room, packing for her trip home tomorrow. Hobbes sat beside him, scrutinizing him with that smug humans-are-so-stupid look.
Not disagreeing with you, fuzzball.
Since the breakup with Lily, he’d been practicing his ass off, blowing off pent-up steam. But it didn’t keep him from missing her and Daisy, like a beaver missed its front teeth. If Lily weren’t so damn stubborn …
He could feel anger heating up his neck again, so he picked up his guitar and began strumming, the same questions looping through his head. Could he go back to being Lily’s fuckboy—assuming she’d let him—and be content? Or be her fuckboy while covertly chipping away at her walls? Didn’t work the first time.
The circle of questions continually led back to the same answers. No, he didn’t want to be friends with benefits. Either Lily was his or she wasn’t. Black or white. As for whether she’d decided to let him in, her deafening silence was his answer.
A new doubt wormed its way into his consciousness. Had expecting her to give Jack up been right? He mentally added it to the list of other unanswered questions labeled right and wrong. Questions he didn’t want to wrestle with right now.
His phone chirped, and he picked it up. As soon as he realized it was Lily, his blood began percolating.
Lily: Just wanted to wish you luck in the playoffs.
Gage: Thanks. How have you and Daisy been?
Lily: Good. She says hi BTW.
Gage: Tell her hello for me. I miss her.
Minutes ticked by. Hobbes blinked her eyes slowly, as if to say, “Why not just call her?”
“Sometimes you’re a smart cat.” He swiped Lily’s number, his heart lurching into machine-gun mode, and his stomach twisted itself into tight coils.
“Hey.” Her voice sounded weary.
“Hey, uh … I thought it’d be easier to call.”
“Okay.”
After several squirm-worthy beats, he said, “So you guys are okay?”
“We’re good.”
“That’s good.” An incredibly long pause had bands constricting his chest. Maybe calling hadn’t been such a good idea. “I’m fine too, in case you were wondering.”
Silence. Apparently, she isn’t. Why the hell did I call?
“I was on my way out the door. Was there a reason you called?” Her tone was flinty.
He steeled himself. “What’s the status of the social media stuff?”
“You have a great following now. You can take some time off, and it’ll run itself for a while. I’ll send you my final invoice.”
His pounding heart was sinking faster than a waterlogged gear bag. He hardened it. His anger thick, tar-like, was heating low in his belly. “I think we have more to say to each other.”
“I think we said it all.”
“No, we didn’t. At least I didn’t.”
“What is it you needed to say, Gage?” she sighed. “And can you make it short? I really do need to go.”
His slow boil bubbled over, releasing everything he’d been bottling up. “Our falling out wasn’t about my mother, and it wasn’t about the Facebook picture. If it had been about my mother, you’d have come to me. As for the picture, I hope you would’ve given me the benefit of the doubt before you jumped off the conclusions bridge. I think you use Daisy and Jack like shields to protect you from getting too invested.”
“I—”
“I’m not done. It’s obvious Daisy comes first. I get it. I was brought up by a single mom, and I know the struggles you go through raising Daisy. But you use her as an excuse, just like my mom did. And now Mom’s
