Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(106)

Clover sets a cup of tea beside me and mouths, “You should go.”

I grab her hand, pulling her close enough that I can kiss her knuckles before I release her again. I found out she ran into my mother in the bathroom at convocation. It took her forty-eight hours to tell me, and only because my mom called asking if I was okay, and did I need to talk, and a bunch of other stuff about loving me unconditionally.

Also, Clover has a terrible poker face, at least with me. I only know what she’s told me about their conversation, and she gets a little flustered when I ask about it, so I’m on the fence as to how truthful she’s being. I don’t think she’s lying; I just don’t know if she’s omitting in a bid to protect me, or my mother, or both. It seems a lot like something she would do.

“I can come up Friday morning.”

Clover gives me a look.

“I’ll leave right after work on Thursday,” I amend. “I finish at five, so I should be able to get there by seven or so.”

“We’ll have a late dinner.” I can almost hear his relief, like he’s walking on eggshells with me. Which sucks. “We can shoot the puck in the yard if you want, or go to the arena. Whatever works for you.”

“That sounds good, Dad.”

“I’ll call you later this week, just to check in, okay?”

“Sure.”

We end the call. I toss my phone on the coffee table, and I hold my hand out to Clover, who’s still standing beside the arm of my chair. As soon as she lets me take her hand, I pull her into my lap and wrap my arms around her. “I should be excited about this.” I mutter into her neck, breathing in that clove and cinnamon scent mixed with citrus.

“But you’re not,” she finishes.

“No. Not even a little.”

“Do you want to talk about why?”

“I don’t know if I can deal with the disappointment if I don’t get offered a spot at training camp.”

“You can’t deal with your own disappointment or someone else’s?” She shifts so her back is against the armrest, and she’s curled up like a cat in my lap.

This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, and regardless of how many times I go over the same points, she still walks through them with me, every single time.

“Both? I should be living and breathing hockey. I should want to be on the ice every day.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone who’s ever had the dream of becoming a professional player.”

“You’re living in extremes, though. Every life decision isn’t all or nothing, and I feel like that’s where you’re currently situated. There doesn’t seem to be any balance. You don’t have to be like Kody, who from the sound of it can only live in extremes. Look at his relationship with your sister. It’s always been all or nothing. He couldn’t do it any other way, so that’s how he lives his life. It doesn’t have to be how you live yours.”

“What if I make it and tank my career? I’m caught up in this shitty spiral, and I don’t know how to get out of it.”

“Okay. I have a question for you, and it’s probably not one you’re going to want to answer truthfully, but it’s valid all the same.”

I nod, waiting for her to go on.

“Is it less about you not being as good and more about you not wanting to be as good?”

“My stats answer that question.” I was mid-range at best this season, and half of what’s carrying me is my name. Or at least that’s how it feels.

“But do they answer it because it’s accurate or because you’re consciously or subconsciously making sure they’re not the stats you need to get where you’ve planned to go your entire life?”

“Honestly?” I rub my temple. “I have no idea anymore.”

She sighs and smiles sadly. “I can’t make this decision for you, Maverick. Only you know in your heart what’s right. But I will tell you that you can’t base your decision on our relationship, or on what you think your parents expect from you. This is your life, your future, your career. You need to decide what’s best for you.”

“I know.” I take her hand in mine and lace our fingers together. “I feel like I’ve been on this path for so long, and now that I’m almost at the end, I’m questioning everything. And then there’s you and me. This whole time I’ve been focused on the optics and how much easier it will be for us to be a couple when I’m playing professional hockey and I’m not just a college kid.”

She props her elbow on the arm of the chair and settles her cheek on her knuckles. “You’ve never been just a college kid, Maverick. And my issues with the age gap between us are mine, not yours. And the optics of us shouldn’t be a reason for you to sign or not sign a contract.”

“I know you’re right. I’m also trying to be realistic, because some NHL careers are short, and having a backup plan is essential.”

“I agree on the backup plan, and your degree gives you the foundation you need for that. I think you need to see what you’re offered and take it from there. Talk it through with your dad. Be honest with him. Tell him how you’re feeling, and make your decision not based on what you’re afraid of, but on what’s going to make you happy.”