EARLY TUESDAY MORNING, I’m at the rink for team practice, except I arrived an hour before everyone else. I’m so amped up for my first game back tomorrow, I couldn’t sleep anyway. I’ve been to all the Eagles practices during my suspension, but without the games, I don’t feel like I’ve really used my strength and agility the way I should be. There’s something about the arena, the music, the cheering crowd, that makes you work harder and power through the games.
I’m enjoying the quiet rink, doing skating drills on my own, when I spot the bane of my existence, Max. He’s standing behind the bench and waves a hand, gesturing for me to come over and chat. Why he’s awake, bright eyed, and dressed immaculately in a dress shirt and slacks at seven in the morning, I have no idea. And why he wants to talk to me? Also no clue, but I don’t like it.
I skate over and he greets me, “Mitch Anderson, just the person I was hoping to see.” He waits for me to come to a stop, eyeing me with a stern expression punctuated by his crappy haircut.
“Max. What did you need?” I ask, glancing back at the ice as if to silently tell him I have work to do.
He sighs heavily. “Well, you see, the whole reason I had you coach a youth hockey team during your suspension was to rebuild your image.”
“I remember.”
“Well, another photo of you and hockey mom is circulating.” His expression doesn’t change with the accusation, he just stares at me blankly.
“Hockey sister. And I guess it’s a good thing I’m not coaching anymore.” I stare at him with the same blank expression he’s giving me. He obviously doesn’t know much, because Andie isn’t even a mom. But whatever. I really need to find a new agent.
“Mitch, you know the press will link her to the Washington Wombats and make all kinds of crazy accusations. You’ve been around long enough to know this.”
“We haven’t even gone on a date.” Yet, I think, but don’t say it out loud. “I’m done coaching the Wombats, my mental health is better… I don’t know what more you want from me.”
“I’m going to be straight with you, you’re not getting any younger. And the only company who has reached out to collaborate with you is Franklin Distilleries. Which apparently isn’t good enough for you. Just stay out of trouble until I can get you some new opportunities. After you gain a few sponsors, you can hook up with all the hockey moms you want to.”
I clench my teeth and take a deep breath. I will not lash out at this infuriating man. “Hockey sister. And there’s only one. Thanks for the chat, but I gotta get back to work.”
In for seven… out for eleven.
His jaw clenches. “Alright. Have a good day, Mitch.”
I grunt, starting back on my drills, but I’m fuming. I’ve watched guys on our team sneak women into their hotel rooms for years, even with a different girl every night. And I get berated for seeing a mature, responsible adult that I genuinely like. Max can kiss my ass, along with all of his sponsorships.
Of course, I’d love to have sponsors, but I won’t give up Andie for it. I have plenty of money saved up to retire someday. I might not be able to live the same way I do now, but I’ll be okay.
“You trying to steal my position, Anderson?”
I look up to find Remy skating toward me. He’s usually the first one here on practice days, being the team captain and all. “You and I both know I’d make a horrible team captain.”
He huffs out a laugh. “You know, exhausting yourself isn’t a great way to get ready for a game.”
“Just dusting off the cobwebs.”
“How’s Andie?” He abruptly changes the subject.
I think for a second, not one to talk about my personal life. But I respect Remy, and it’s just the two of us. “Funny you should ask. I just got a lecture from my agent about her.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really?”
“Apparently, hooking up with the legal guardian of a kid I was coaching is bad for my image.”
He laughs out loud. “Wow. Well, as team captain, I’m all for players having a good image and helping the team. But Andie is good for you. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, exactly, but you come out of your shell around her and act like a real human.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter, but he just laughs again. “So, you don’t think it’s an issue?”
“Nah, I like this new Mitch who’s not such a grumpy old man.”
I shake my head. “She’s too good for me. I don’t deserve her,” I tell him honestly. Saying it out loud feels even worse than thinking it. The knowledge that I’ll never be good enough for her and Noah reverberating around my brain and my body like the words are a real, living thing.
“In my experience, men are seldom deserving of the women they’re with,” he says, a flash of something like grief or regret passing over his face.
Our conversation is rudely interrupted when the rest of our team appears, skating onto the ice with a ridiculous amount of energy and commotion. West and Colby are chatting about something but skate over toward me and Remy. Bruce changes direction from the net to our group when he spots the four of us.
“My boys!” he yells as he flies toward us in all of his giant goalie gear. “How’s my girl, by the way?” He directs the question at me. “Or is she your girl yet?”
“She’s mine,” I practically growl the words at him.
The guys erupt into laughter and West gives me a hard smack on the back. “Welcome to the smitten kitten club, man.”
Coach Young whistles from the box and glares in our direction. “Get your giggling asses over here, we have work to do.”
I’m sitting in Dr. Curtis’s now familiar office after practice. I feel calm as I wait for him, no feelings of dread coursing through me. Me and Doc have a rapport now, he knows when not to push me to talk and I feel more comfortable actually talking… a little.
“Alright, so how’d the homework go?” he asks, typing a few notes on his tablet, then meeting my gaze.
“I took a bubble bath.”
His eyebrows raise and his mouth quirks. “Good, good. Was it relaxing?”
I shrug. “The bath wasn’t really my thing, but I listened to an audiobook during the bath, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. I’m on my second book now.”
“Wonderful,” he says, placing his tablet on the table beside him and crossing his ankle over his knee. “I love audiobooks as well. What gave you the idea… for the bath and audiobook?”
I hesitate. “Remember the boy I told you about, Noah?”
He nods.
“He said his big sister enjoys baths and books, and I like her… so I gave it a try.” Once again, words bubble out of my mouth about Andie Downsby. I can’t seem to not talk about her.
Dr. Curtis smiles. “Are you and Andie seeing each other?”
I drag a hand through my hair nervously. “Kind of. I mean, I’d like to be…”
“But?”
That coiling sensation of steel wrapping itself around my heart starts up. That feeling of shutting down, of hiding behind my barrier. But if I want anything with Andie, if she’ll even have me, I have to relearn how to talk, how to process things in a healthy way.
What would Noah do? He’d be brave.
“I just feel like it’s hopeless to try, like I’ll never be good enough, anyway. Or worse, I’ll get attached and she’ll leave. She’ll figure out I’m not worthy of her and leave me in the dust. Just like everyone else.”
Dr. Curtis is quiet for a beat, maybe thinking about how insane I am, or maybe giving me a moment of peace to reflect on the words I just said. Maybe both.
When he finally speaks, his voice is calm and steady. “Mitch, it’s understandable that you fear people leaving you, given what you’ve been through. And, of course, love is always a risk. There are no guarantees when it comes to love and relationships. But despite what anyone has told you before, they didn’t leave because of you, they left because of themselves. They left because of their own selfish desires, or perhaps some internal struggle they had. But it had nothing to do with you. The things people say and do usually have everything to do with themselves… and nothing to do with us.” He pauses, his eyes laser focused on mine. “You, Mitch Anderson, are a good person. You are worthy of love, and worthy of happiness. And you should chase after it.”
I sit there for a long time, looking down at my hands, contemplating what he just said. Letting myself feel the weight of his words, and trying to let them sink in. But as much as I want to take them to heart and really believe what he said, I have a lifetime of negative thoughts to regroup from. It’s going to take longer than five minutes for my heart to accept this new information.
But I want to believe them. I really do.
