Pucked Love (Pucked, #6)(53)
I realize, very clearly, that I’m in a terrible frame of mind. I’ve kept her on edge all day and probably shouldn’t have since she was already there to begin with. I’m also aware that having done this to her is fucked up, but it seemed better than telling her things she’s not ready to hear, especially when I’m not sure if I’m ready to say them.
Alex is quiet and in a shit mood as we make our way to the bar. He’s not angry that we won the game; it’s how we won that he’s upset about. It’s not jealousy, it’s bigger than that. It’s about his worth to the team. It’s the position he feels he’s putting me in. It’s knowing that my chances of being pulled in the expansion draft get higher the more I pick up the slack he can’t manage. It’s the nine-million-dollar-a-year salary he doesn’t think he’s worth anymore.
The bar is loud and busy. I look around for Charlene and the rest of the girls, but they’re not easy to find since pretty much every female in the place is decked out in our team gear. Loud shrieking and jumping draws my attention.
“There they are.” I point to where Violet and Lily are hugging.
“I’m glad Vi can’t get wasted. I need in my wife tonight,” Alex says.
I scan the area around them and finally find Charlene. Her pearls are at her lips, her expression reflecting none of the excitement Violet, Lily, and the other girls seem to be experiencing. Which makes me question what’s going on.
We weave through the crowd slowly because of the volume of people. Thankfully, not many attempt to talk to me, probably because I don’t come across as friendly, and I don’t often engage in conversation with people I don’t know.
I step up behind Charlene, who’s still worrying her pearls against her lips, and drop my mouth to her ear. “What’s happening here?”
She startles and nearly fumbles her drink as she spins around. She tips her head back as I straighten, eyes finding mine. Emotions flit across her face, pain floating around in there. I’m unsure if it’s physical, emotional, or both, and I regret keeping her hanging all day.
“Violet and Lily just found out they have the same father,” she says softly.
“Is this a joke?”
Her voice cracks, along with her forced smile. “I wish it was.”
I want to ask her to explain, but Violet is jumping around, screaming at the top of her lungs. It’s drawing a lot of attention. “Isn’t this awesome? Both of our moms made terrible choices!” Violet motions between herself and Lily. “Can you see the resemblance? Boobs aside, of course.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “Maybe I should put on one of your bras and stuff it with socks so it’s easier to see the resemblance.”
Randy comes up to stand beside me, observing the spectacle. “Did I hear that right? Vi and Lily have the same dad?”
“Apparently.”
He runs a hand over his beard, looking from one woman to the other. “I don’t see it.”
I shrug because neither do I. Apart from the fact that they’re both female and on the petite side, that’s all the similarity I can find. Violet is busty and curvy where Lily is narrow and lean. Lily also has a couple inches on Vi. “Does Lily look more like her mother?”
Randy nods. “Yeah, kind of like Vi looks like hers.” He tips his head in Skye’s direction. She really does look like Violet, plus about twenty years. She also dresses very much like her daughter.
I’m grateful for the soap-opera-style family drama, because it takes the focus off tonight’s game. I should be happy that we’re going to the next round, and for the team I am, but the call I received this afternoon before I went on the ice worries me. My agent let me know that Lucas, the owner of the Vegas team, had contacted him for the third time, wanting to talk numbers. There’s been interest from other teams too, and I’m still unsure where Charlene and I are headed. I feel like I’m just figuring out how to do this new version of us right, and I don’t want to screw that up.
It’s another hour before I finally manage to get close to Charlene again. She’s drunk, and based on the empty glasses scattered over the table, someone thought shots were a good idea. She’s positioned herself at the end of the table, slightly apart from the other girls, quiet instead of engaged in the lively conversation. She reminds me of how I get when there are too many people and I feel exposed.
I bend so I’m at her ear and don’t have to yell. “You want to go up to the room now so I can take care of you?”
I back up enough so I can see her face. Her expression is a mixture of relief and desperation, so intense that for a second I think she’s going to burst into tears, which is very unlike Charlene. The only times I’ve seen her cry were when Alex had his accident last year and Violet was a mess, and when my teammates found her surrounded by sex toys.
Her lips move, forming the word please, but it’s not accompanied by sound, and I’m uncertain if it’s because she hasn’t made any or because it’s too loud to hear.
I straighten and pull her chair out, giving her space to stand up.
“You’re going?” Violet frowns. “Come on! Just stay a little longer.”
“I apologize, Violet, but I need her.” Which is true. I very much need to get lost in her for a while, and I have a feeling Charlene needs the same.