Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(77)



She smiles. “That guy is amazing.”

My heart squeezes. I know that. And I screwed up.

“He came to put forward an idea to me. I’m not going to say much about it until I know we can do it, but I’m super excited about it.” She pauses. “He was very complimentary to you.”

“H-he was?”

“Yes. About your training skills.” Her eyes crinkle up at the corners. “But we already knew that. You got excellent ratings on the feedback we collected from participants.”

“Oh wow.” My heart bumps against my breastbone. “That’s so nice to hear.”

Maybe he doesn’t hate me…

I try to focus on the topic of our meeting, super curious about Jacob’s proposal. What is he proposing to do?

I need to talk to him. If he doesn’t hate me, at least I can apologize to him. He was right there in front of me and I wanted to do it, but this wasn’t the time or place. I don’t know what the right time or place is. I’m terrified but determined.

I don’t know what Jacob’s schedule is like now that classes are done, and right now I have to get to a shift at the diner. Frustration mounts inside me, a feeling of hot pressure. I’ll figure it out. Maybe after I get off work at ten I can find him and talk to him.

I rush home to grab a bite to eat and change into my uniform, and then I drive to the diner. Mondays aren’t usually busy, anyway, and tonight it’s extra quiet, with most people studying for exams.

Then some of Jacob’s teammates come in.

My quick assessment tells me he’s not with them. Not that this would be the time or place to have our discussion either, but…I want to see him.

The guys are weirdly subdued. They greet me with polite smiles. “Hey, Skylar.”

“Hi, guys. What can I get you?”

They place their orders, all of them having some variation of hamburger, and hand me their menus. When I return with drinks, they’re talking quietly and seriously. I hear the words “suspension” and “injured” and “don’t know if he can play in Florida.”

Immediately my nerves go on alert. Are they talking about Jacob? Is he hurt? How would that have happened? Their last game was over a week ago and I know he wasn’t hurt then. The suspension couldn’t be him. He’s a hard, physical player but not a dirty player. He hardly ever even takes penalties.

I want to ask but bite my lip as I set drinks in front of them. I meet Ben’s eyes and his are full of concern. My insides tighten.

When I get back to the counter and turn around, Ben has followed me. “Hey,” he says. “You heard from Flash?”

I smile wistfully at the nickname. “No. We don’t, uh…I haven’t talked to him for a while.”

Ben frowns. “Yeah, he said you two were cooling off. But it seemed weird to me. You were crazy into each other.”

“Yeah, well…” I swallow and drop my eyes. “Stuff happens.”

Cooling off? That’s what he told his friends?

“I guess it does. He’s been pretty messed up the last few weeks, though.”

My gaze snaps back up to his. “Messed up?”

“Yeah. Really down. Distracted. He played crappy those last two games against UN Omaha.” He’s eyeing me with a disturbing intensity. “Shit kinda hit the fan today.”

“What? What happened?” I actually clutch his forearm, filled with dread and concern for Jacob.

“He got in a fight. With Black Jack.”

“A fight? Oh dear God.” I stare at Ben. “Is he okay?”

“Um, mostly. We’re not sure what’s going to happen to both of them. It sucks.”

“What were they fighting about?” I can’t comprehend this.

“Black Jack was being an *. He was giving Jacob shit about interfering with him and your friend Ella the other night.”

I sense his disdain as he says “your friend Ella” and my back stiffens. We may never be best friends again, and she may be getting something of a rep on campus, but I still care about her.

“Flash wasn’t taking his shit and…well, we pulled them off each other before one of them got killed or something, but Coach came in, and like I said, shit hit the fan.”

“Oh no.” I cover my mouth with both hands. My heart is racing and I can hardly think straight. “Oh my God.” I suck in a breath. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah. A little banged up.”

“Where is he?”

“At home.” One corner of his mouth lifts. “Sulking alone in his room, like he has most of the last two weeks.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I was going to go over after work, anyway. Now I will for sure.”

Ben nods. “Good. I think he might like to see you.”

“I’m not so sure of that,” I whisper. “I…kind of screwed up.”

Ben lifts an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I, uh, found out something about him…”

Ben’s eyes narrow. “You heard about the rape accusation.”

“You know?”

“Yeah. He told me a while back, one night we both got hammered on tequila watching How It’s Made.” His face tightens. “That really sucked for him. They made an example out of him and his buddies when that girl trashed them. It could’ve ended his hockey career.”

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