Destiny on Ice (Boys of Winter #1)(65)

But I still have a few final things in Brent’s bedroom. I’m waiting for a time when he’s at practice. We’ve avoided each other really well the past twenty-four hours, ever since our little “talk” in the living room.

Damn it, I’m so angry at him. If he’d just spoken with me first, I could’ve told him that releasing that video would be the worst move ever.

I love Brent, but we need time apart. That’s why I plan to be gone by the time he comes home. Not only do I have no reason to be here anymore, but having a relationship with him, even if we pretend it just now started, is no longer a possibility. I can’t throw away my career for him. And that’s what I’d be doing. My firm would terminate me for violating the contract I signed, and my reputation would be for shit.

If Brent had just waited till summer, when the contract ended by reaching its full term, then that new addendum would’ve meant nothing. It’s because I was terminated that it went into effect.

The team now expects me to stay away from everyone.

With my carry-on strap swung over my shoulder, the same piece of luggage Brent made me carry way back on that fateful day in the arena parking lot, I step into the room he and I have shared for over a month.

It’s so overwhelming to me that I’ll never again be in here that I have to stop for a minute and catch my breath.

“I can’t believe it’s really over,” I choke out.

I also can’t believe I’m a bad cliché—a woman caught between love and her career. Love might have won out, if I weren’t so mad at Brent. But the more I think about it, the more I question if this relationship is really all that healthy. He kept the strip club incident from me. And that’s like lying by omission, right?

He also went behind my back and released that video. Not only was the content humiliating for me to watch, but Brent made that decision all on his own. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t even think to consult me before making such a sweeping decision.

It seems that, for as much as Brent Oliver has changed, he’s still pretty much the same self-centered prick I woke up to that morning in his bed. And that’s why I can’t sacrifice myself to be with him. It was bad judgment to get involved with him in the first place.

But you fell in love. You’re just trying to talk yourself out of it now.

“Shut up,” I hiss. “I have to convince myself of something or I won’t be able to leave.”

Then stay.

“I can’t.”

I angrily start stuffing clothes in my bag, starting with things in the closet. When I reach the nightstand by his bed I come across my red panties.

“I knew he kept these!” I exclaim.

Instead of tossing the lacy undergarment into my bag, I leave them where they are. He may as well keep his pervy reminder of the morning we first met.

A short while later, I place my key to his house on a table by the door.

And then I leave.

I don’t write a note or a letter.

I don’t need to, as I’ve already left my heart behind.





I’m Numb, But Not Comfortably So





When I return from practice, Aubrey is gone.

There’s no note, but I view that as a good sign. Maybe I’m delusional, but I don’t think we’re done.

Still, I’m numb as I walk around in the house. My home has never felt so f*cking empty. Aubrey gave this place life, with her laughter and her love.

“God, I miss her already.”

As the days pass, I miss her more and more. And I never stop loving her. I want to pick up the phone and call, but I don’t want to cause her any more grief. If she feels anything like me, though, she probably has a big hole in her heart too. Mine is tearing me to pieces.

I finally decide to fill that hole with the only good things I have left—drive and determination. Maybe if I show Aubrey how she really changed me for the better, she’ll say “f*ck the contract” and come back.

With newfound hope in my heart I start playing better hockey than ever before. We win game after game and easily move back into first place in our division.

“I hope Aubrey’s watching all these games,” I confide to Benny one night after a particularly satisfying victory. “If she is, I bet I end up hearing from her soon.”

We’re in the locker room, and Benny just stares over at me. “Dude…” He sighs and shakes his head.

“What?”

He gives me this most sorrowful look, like I’m a lost cause. Maybe that’s not it, though. I know he’s still pissed at me for f*cking things up. Aubrey was not only the best hockey student he ever had, but she was also his bud. Believe it or not, I think Nolan misses her too. More likely, he misses their verbal sparring. But I know he feels some kind of loss, seeing as at the end of a long plane trip out to a game in New York City, he starts in on me about how traveling is so f*cking boring now that he has no one to ride me about.

“We need to find you someone new,” he says, teasing. “Maybe the team can hire another life coach.”

Joking aside, I take that shit seriously.

“I’m not interested in any other women,” I snap, making all the players seated around us turn and look.

Once they resume what they’re doing, and their eyes are off me, I hiss, “For the record, I sure as f*ck don’t ever need another goddamn life coach.”