“Fine. I’ll be there.” I hung up, pissed that I caved so easily.


Twenty minutes after face-off I strolled into the arena, straight from the office and still in my suit. The crude smell of the ice mixed with tap beer failed to affect me for some reason. I was here to make an appearance, check in with Tack, and get the hell home. I wasn’t feeling it. In fact, I wasn’t feeling much of anything since Tal left.

Lil’s executive suite was on the sixth floor past the Lounge, a scene beyond scenes. “Asher Craig, is that you, stranger?” A familiar voice called after me. I turned around and smiled, my gentleman kicking into gear. “Yeah, I’d know that killer smile anywhere.”

Angie or was it Andie? Shit.

“How’ve you been?” In this situation I usually went straight for the cheek kiss. I opted for the fake hug.

She sipped her red wine, swiped her side bangs, and batted her seriously long lashes. She was prettier than I remembered. Auburn red hair, dark emerald eyes, and a rack that would make any dick twitch.

“Busy, business is finally taking off. In fact, I could probably use a little representation, if you’re interested.” The way she folded her arms, careful not to spill her wine, propping her already bountiful cleavage in my face, I doubted she was asking for help with her… “Remember I’m a personal shopper. I have several girls working for me now.”

“Right. Sure, call the firm, one of my associates would be happy to help you out.”

“What? I’m not worthy of your attention?” She seductively licked her full lips and I realized how easy it would be to take her home and fuck her seven ways from Sunday. Wouldn’t even need to waste the cab ride or miss the game, there were a dozen private bathrooms on this level. It would definitely be a way to snap me out of this funk. After all, Tal left me, gave up on us. Tal.

“Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I owe you an apology, counselor. I never meant to stand you up that night. Of course I know where you live.” She repeated my text response. “I got a little caught up, you know how that happens sometimes, I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

Holy shit, I hit send after all. That was the night Tal came to my apartment and clarified everything. The night she taught me what true courage was, the night I learned what it meant to fight for someone’s love. Could I be any more of a moron? If Angie/Andie showed up when Tal was over, it could have changed everything. Scratch that, it would have ruined it all. The trust that I had worked so hard to gain from Tal would’ve been gone. We would have never gotten to where we were today. Wait. Where were we today? We weren’t, that’s right. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t fighting our battle. She ran, pouring more and more acid on my gaping wound with each passing day. I was fucked.

I politely said goodnight before I fucked myself further, literally. Not that I had any interest in what Ann was offering (just easier to lump her name). She wasn’t Tal. End of story.


“You made it!” Lil squealed and attacked my side. “We scored and you missed it. How amazing is this place. Thank you so much! Let me buy you a shot.”

My mood might have been rancid, but Lil’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Gorgeous, food and drink are included.”

“Whatever, party pooper.” Oh lord, she was half lit. I scanned the room, taking inventory. “He’s not here. Go ahead, one guess … yep, shocker, he’s stuck at the hospital.” Something was off, Lil never complained about Chase’s crazy hours, if anything she raved about his commitment to his patients. I’d have to deal with that in a few because out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tack at the far end of the suite helping Paige with her coat.

“Whoa, bud, where you headed?” I lifted my chin. “Third period hasn’t even started.” Tal and I were screwed up, but I wasn’t prepared for any awkwardness with Tack. He gave me nothing. Shit, I was losing him too.

“No, Mr. Craig. It’s my fault. I have a sorority mixer tonight, we’re already late.” Paige was the furthest thing from a sorority chick, reminded me of someone else I knew who was always full of surprises. I couldn’t help but smile. Tack had great taste. “I’ll wait for you outside, Tack. Night, Mr. Craig,” she said, politely tipping up and I kissed her cheek.

“Asher.”

“Right.” Her slight blush and genuine smile told me she wasn’t using my first name anytime soon. Her expression for Tack said a whole hell of a lot more. He really was lucky to have her.

I was done wasting time so I spit out, “How are you doing? You talk to her?” Tal wasn’t answering my calls or returning my texts. I was sure the rehab center was keeping her very busy, but I knew she wouldn’t go a day without some form of contact with Tack.

“Yeah, she says she’s doing okay. Wanted me to let you know she got all the gifts you sent for her birthday.” The messenger who dropped them confirmed receipt, that wasn’t what I wanted to know. I needed some insight into what was going on in her head. Tack knew full well what I was looking for. He snaked his hands in his pockets and said, “She’s more worried about you.”

And that wasn’t it, in fact, that shit was getting old. If she was so worried, she’d be in my bed. I wasn’t shot. I wasn’t rolling around in a chair. Tack gave me the minute to stew, and then squeezed my shoulder on his way out. “Gym tomorrow? Gotta see this iron chin I keep hearing about. And it’d be nice to see someone knock my long lost brother off his high horse. Wow, you weren’t kidding, he’s an arrogant motherfucker.”

I shook my head and smirked, partial relief settling in. Yeah, Tack and I were still solid. “You got it. See you at six. And have fun tonight.”

He cockily raised his brow in an all too familiar way. “Oh, I will.” Son of a bitch, he might’ve been a Colton clone, but he sounded just like me. And I wasn’t too proud to admit that I loved it.

He strode out and I was left wondering, again, why Tal was doing this to us. A firm hand smacked my upper back, pulling me from my reverie. Not them too—since when was I the party killer?

Dodd bumped my fist and rolled his eyes. “Sorry man, we’re out too. Long day.” Man code for his woman said let’s go. “You got Lil?”

He obviously knew the answer, but I couldn’t blame him. I would’ve asked too.

“Definitely, man. I’ll make sure she gets home.”

Sierra popped out of the suite’s private bathroom in time to put her two cents in. “That’s the least you can do.” I would’ve been taken back by the harshness of her tone, or not because it was Sierra, but I was momentarily distracted by the bump that was now crazy visible. “I know, I’m freaking huge. Don’t remind me.”

She rubbed her protuberant belly and I almost laughed. Almost. Instead I said, “You look gorgeous, Sier.”

“Well, no offense, but you look like shit.”

“Umm … good to know.” What else did you say to that? She wasn’t wrong. I felt like shit too.

“How about you do something about it, like dig your head out of your ass? We miss our girl.” Nothing like kicking a guy when he’s down. Sierra half walked, half waddled and pulled me down for a peck on the cheek. In a softer voice she said, “We miss our Green Giant, too.”

I filed that whole exchange away to process at a later date, helped myself to a Heineken, and joined Lil on the open air balcony. We were high above the crowds, with only a short wall of glass separating us from the screaming chaos, yet we sat in silence. I glanced down, taking it all in. Two-two. It could go either way.

“Go figure, Bruins-Rangers. Kind of ironic,” I said to no one, thinking of how it reminded me of my life, and not just the NY and Boston part. It could go either way.

Lil stood on her spikes, wobbled a second then clicked her way up the two stairs.

“Where ya going?” I called after her.

She gave me the one minute finger, so I sunk into the leather and tried to lose myself in the blur of the puck.

When she returned she handed me her wine glass (women and their total disregard for barware) with a familiar amber liquid. “Try this instead.” Her other hand held the half full bottle.

“Don Julio 1942, hmm, when did you start drinking Tequila neat?”

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the ice. “When I lost my margarita partners.” The Don Julio explained her buzz. Her answer explained her mood. I shot back the Tequila and poured another. I needed to catch up.

“Want to talk about it?”

Her sad eyes said more than her words. “Not so much, you?”

I kicked my feet out, swirled my last sip, appreciating the sweet aroma of agave and oak. It went down smooth, I’d give her that, but it wasn’t scotch. Nothing else was.

Lil broke first. “Dodd won’t have sex with Sierra because she’s pregnant, meanwhile Dr. Sexy can’t seem to keep his hands off me. How’s that for ironic? Because if he distracts me with sex for the next five months, maybe I’ll forget that I’m not pregnant.” Lil was almost as bad as me, get us alone and shit flew from our mouths.

“Wow, I’m not gonna even pretend to have a clue what you guys are dealing with, but you’ve got to know he only wants to-”

Lil cut me off before I had a chance to finish. “Oh, let me guess—protect me.” Good guess. “Yes, I got a little choked up the first time the babies kicked and saw Chase’s hands on Sierra’s belly, not mine. It was a natural response, my god, of course I wish it were me carrying our twins, but it’s not, and I have to deal. And I am. Hell, I’m the one who grabbed his hands to feel … but it doesn’t mean it’s okay to make excuses, miss ultrasound appointments, and avoid Sierra like the plague. How is that protecting me? He’s just missing out on this part of us. Not to mention Sierra is my best friend and giving us the most amazing gift.”