Chapter 25

Lucas

“You know your brooding is getting a little pathetic,” Max says.

I don’t even look at him, preferring instead to look out the airplane window as we descend into Newark. My thoughts have been dark and bitter, all because of Stephanie. I can’t go back and I can’t go forward. I’m stuck in hell and miserable as fuck.

I’ve been a prick to my family and teammates, but they’ve given me a pretty wide berth lately, so I’m left gloriously alone most of the time. I like to imagine it’s my penance for the crappy way I left things with Stephanie.

“Why the hell you just don’t go see her is beyond me,” Max continues. I don’t even lift my temple off the window, where it’s been resting most of the plane ride. “You can totally fix this if you just try.”

How do I fix what I said? How will I ever convince her that I think she’d make a fantastic mother, when my last words to her were that she’d fuck up our child? And really, why would I even bother trying when she made it clear she’s the one who wanted space? Stephanie is the one who called things off, and yet here I am wallowing in misery.

“Lucas,” Max says sharply, and I finally lift my head off the window to look at him. “You’ve got to snap out of this. Fix it or move on, but do something, for Christ’s sake.”

“What do you care?” I ask him softly. “I’m playing the best hockey of my life. Apparently channeling my bad temperament into the game is making me a better player.”

“The play-offs are what’s making you better, moron,” he says with the deepest affection he can muster.

This much is true. There are only two things that help to dull my thoughts about Stephanie, and that’s getting drunk and play-off hockey. Since that disastrous night last week where I got shit-faced drunk and walked away from an easy lay, I decided I really should just focus on hockey. That was the best thing I could do, because this was the Stanley Cup play-offs and I didn’t need to be distracted. So I funneled my pent-up frustrations into the game, choosing to focus on something that I could be successful at to make me feel better about myself.

“This isn’t like you,” Max says. “My brother doesn’t give up on what he wants.”

I let my head roll and my temple thumps against the window again, my eyes staring blankly out the window. “Your brother also knows when he can’t win at something and cuts his losses.”

“Bullshit, Lucas,” Max whispers in an acidic voice. “You’re a chickenshit, and frankly, I’m ashamed of you.”

This gets my attention. While Max and I might not always see eye to eye on things, he’s my best friend in the world. He’s my brother and the one I trust most in this world. Disappointing him is like a gut punch.

My head pops up and I turn to look at him. “What do you think I should do that I haven’t?”

“You should try,” he says simply.

I tense up at his words as I remember saying something very similar to Stephanie that day we broke up. I pushed her to keep trying, and the minute she said something I didn’t like, I gave up.

“She said she wanted space,” I say in a low voice. “That she only wanted to be friends.”

“And then you told her she’d fuck her child up,” Max returns gently, because he knows that still chafes me hard. He knows this because he knows I’m not the type of person to react so viciously. “I’m pretty sure the lines of communication were dinged a little at that point.”

“Which is why I’m trying to move on,” I point out.

“No, it’s why you’re giving up.”

“You think that if I just apologize to her that she’ll forgive me for saying something so fucked up?”

“I think you don’t know until you try,” he says, and fuck, why does it have to be that simple?

It can’t be that simple.

My body jostles in the seat as the plane’s wheels touch down, then leans slightly forward as the brakes are applied. Max pulls out his phone and turns it on so he can text Jules that he’s landed. I used to think that was ridiculous, being so tied to someone that you wanted to let them know when you were no longer in the air and on solid ground, but goddamn, I’d kill to be able to do that with Stephanie.

I’m only half paying attention as Max reads something on his phone, then he’s got it up to his ear. I perk up and listen intently, though, when he says, “What’s wrong?” into the phone.

I turn my head to look at him and his eyes are worried as he listens to whom I’m assuming is Jules on the other end. I’m also assuming she must have sent him a text to call her when we landed.

Max listens for a very long time and I feel my anxiety increasing, because the worry never leaves his face. I have no clue what it could be. One of the kids? I’d die if something happened to one of them. Or our parents? Simone?

Finally, Max says, “I’m going to tell him.”

Fuck…he’s talking about me. My gut tightens, and then I feel bile rising in my throat when he says, “He deserves to know. I’ll take the heat for telling him.”

Shit, shit, shit. This is about Stephanie. I know it.

“Okay, honey…love you too. I’ll call you in a little bit.”

Max hangs up and immediately confirms my worst fears. “It’s Stephanie.”

My breath gushes out as my lungs deflate and I prepare for the worst. “Is the baby—”

Max shakes his head. “No, the baby is fine. But Stephanie was in an accident; hit by a car. She’s got a broken wrist and a concussion.”

“Jesus,” I mumble as my head spins. “When? Where?”

“A few hours ago,” Max tells me. “She was stepping into an intersection to cross and a car was coming. Some guy pulled her back but the car caught her arm, then she hit her head. Jules has been to see her in the ER and is going back in the morning.”

“Stephanie didn’t want me to know, did she?” I ask. Max told Jules he’d take the heat, and that means I was finding out something that someone didn’t want me to find out.

Max shakes his head. “No, but Jules wouldn’t keep that from me. My telling you takes Jules out of it with Stephanie.”

A heavy weight presses down on my chest. Stephanie really doesn’t need me, or anyone really for that matter. I should call her and check in, make sure I hear it with my own ears that she’s fine, then I have to move the fuck on.

Except, I can’t fathom how I do that when I know she’s lying in a hospital all by herself. She may feel most comfortable as the loner who handles everything on her own, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. That I can’t give her support. In fact, I’m thinking maybe I sidestepped this too much with Stephanie, playing it a little too casual so I didn’t offend her sensibilities. Maybe what I should have been doing was pushing her out of her comfort zone more, forcing her to see that things like care and trust and loyalty don’t have to be high-risk endeavors.

Damn it all to hell, I played it all wrong with her from the beginning. I should have been shoving this shit down her throat to show her that she could have so much better than an existence holed up behind thick walls.

“I’m taking the next flight back to Raleigh,” I say suddenly, and Max’s head whips to me.

“No fucking way,” he says hotly.

“Were you not just telling me I had to try?” I throw back at him as the plane taxis toward the terminal.

“Well, yeah…but not at the expense of a play-off game, Lucas. Jules said she’s fine and she’s getting out of the hospital tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be there by herself tonight,” I say as I pull up Safari on my phone to search flights back to Raleigh.

“The baby is fine,” Max practically sputters, unwilling to believe I’m going to ditch my team and the play-offs.

“Yes, but Stephanie isn’t,” I say assuredly. I know this is the right thing to do. It’s what I fucking should have done two months ago when we started this journey together. I should have rubbed her face in my feelings so she’d get used to it. I should have never played it casual with her, because from day one, there was nothing casual about what we had with each other.

“Lucas,” Max says softly.

I look up from my phone and lock eyes with him. “Don’t try to talk me out of this.”

His lips curve upward and he inclines his head at me. “I was just going to say good luck and hurry back. The team needs you too.”

I smile at him. “I will. I just want to see her and make sure she’s okay, then I’ll hop on the next plane back. I won’t make tomorrow’s game but I’ll be back by game four.”

“You better run this by Coach, you know,” Max says.

“I will,” I say as I go back to browsing flights. “But nothing he says is going to change my mind.”

“You always were a hardheaded motherfucker,” Max mumbles, and I just grin because he is so right about that.

“What do you mean she’s not here?” I ask the woman sitting behind the information desk in the hospital lobby.

“She was never admitted, sir,” the woman tells me as she peers at her computer screen behind thick glasses. She has to be a hundred years old and I wonder if she’s reading it right. I have to restrain myself from leaping behind the desk so I can look at her screen. Finally, she looks up and she must see my worried expression, because she glances around the lobby before leaning toward me and whispering, “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but it looks like she checked out against medical advice.”

“What does that mean?” I whisper back to her as I lean over the desk.

“It means she was going to be admitted but she refused.”

God, that woman takes fucking independence to a dangerous level.

“Thank you,” I mutter to the woman, and bolt out the automatic sliding doors.

Stephanie’s apartment is a good twenty minutes from the hospital, and for the life of me, I can’t fathom why she’d go home by herself with a broken wrist and a concussion. It’s fucking insane.

I call Jules as I pull onto the Beltline and she answers right away. “Have you seen her yet?”

Max had called to tell her I was returning and to pump her for any other pertinent information.

“She never got admitted,” I tell her in frustration. “Checked herself out against medical advice.”

“Jeez, she’s a bonehead sometimes,” Jules mutters.

“Got that right,” I concur. “I’m headed to her place now. Just wanted to give you an update.”

Jules makes a sound of surprise that I’d be so considerate. She and I haven’t been on the best of terms since she laid into me last week.

“I really hope you work things out with Stephanie,” Jules says softly. “I think you both are good for each other, and Lucas…I really want you to be happy.”

Damn if I don’t feel a little mushy from those sincere words from a woman who happily would have castrated me last week. “Thanks, Jules. That means a lot.”

“Let’s double date once you get it all worked out, okay?” she teases.

I let myself have a moment to laugh. “Deal.”

I promise Jules I’ll call her later and let her know Stephanie is okay. I manage to find a parallel spot outside of Steph’s apartment building, saving me a good ten minutes not having to walk from the closest parking deck. The elevator seems to take forever, though, and I’m practically pushing out of the doors when they open on her floor.

Her apartment door comes into view and I have a moment of serious self-doubt. I’m dealing with a woman who has the power to break my heart, and she’s probably going to do it inadvertently by trying to push me away. I just have to man up and be a bigger bully than she can be to me, and I’ve got a few things going for me. First, she’s injured and concussed, so I figure I can probably talk circles around her. Not to mention, she’s in no shape to make me leave, so I’ll just manhandle her—gently of course—if she tries.

Finally, I’m going to wear her down with my persistence, and I’m not going to let up until I tear down every last wall she has and stomp it to dust.

I raise my hand and bang my fist on the door, completely ready to change things between us.