SUNDAY, WE PILE ONTO THE EAGLES’ private plane and head to Canada for a series of away games. Bruce is thrilled, he’ll get to see his family in Quebec. Normally, I’d be happy too. Five days away means not having to watch the guys with their families. No Daddy jerseys, no wives, no girlfriends. But Andie disintegrated that damn lockbox in my chest, and now I just want to be near her. Five days now seems agonizing.
I’m utterly and completely whipped… and I like it. Yeah, I don’t even know who I am anymore. But I like this new version of myself, and Dr. Curtis probably would too.
I take a seat by the window on the plane and pull my phone out to text Andie that we’re about to take off when West slumps down in the seat next to me. I get it, we’ve been tolerating each other. And if I’m honest, my chest doesn’t tighten whenever he’s around anymore. But sitting next to each other on the plane? That might be taking things a little too far.
My thoughts must be reflected by my facial expression because West takes one look at me and huffs a laugh. “Come on, man. Us taken guys have to stick together.” He winks.
I sigh in resignation and make myself comfortable. The seats on the Eagles’ plane are large enough for us to relax. The smell of clean leather fills the space around us, and the seats even swivel so we can face each other and play games when we want to. I had planned on texting Andie this entire flight, but West has other plans. Apparently, he’s in a chatty mood.
“So, Andie’s great,” he says with a wide grin.
“Yep.”
“I think she’s good for you. You’ve changed.”
I pin him with a serious stare. “I can still beat the shit out of people when I want to.”
He smirks. “Not sure I believe you. I think we should change it from Mitch ‘The Machine’ to Mitch ‘The Lover.’”
I flip him the bird and he laughs.
“Anyway, I just wanted you to know I like you guys together. Don’t mess this up, man.”
I tilt my chin in a nod and finally send Andie a text that we’re on the runway. Then, I lean my seat back and take a nice long nap.
I wake up to West blowing on my face. My eyes fly open and he pulls away from me just in time to avoid my fist connecting with his jaw. “Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. We’ve landed.”
Blinking a few times, I look at my watch. I can’t believe I passed out for the entire four-hour flight. Must’ve stayed up too late texting Andie last night. Great, now I’m never going to fall asleep tonight… which means I’ll probably stay up too late again… and will probably be texting Andie the entire time… again.
I stand and stretch my arms and legs, then reach up for my carry-on in the overhead compartment. We get off the plane and the team grabs their luggage and heads toward the line of SUVs sent from the hotel to taxi us. Remy, Colby, Bruce, West, and myself pile inside one of the vehicles. Once I’m settled, I pull my phone out to check it. My eyes widen in alarm when I see ten missed calls from Max, and another eight from Andie.
“What the…” I tap on Andie’s name and it rings a few times before she answers.
“Mitch. Oh my gosh,” her voice is breathless, she sounds shaken up.
I lean forward in my seat, feeling annoyed that I’m not there to help her with whatever is going on. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“You haven’t seen the article?” Her voice sounds strangled, like she’s holding back tears.
“Article?”
“I’m texting it to you right now. Mitch, this looks so bad. I’m so sorry.” She chokes out the apology and I know she’s really crying now.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her, having no clue what’s happening.
I pull the phone back and tap on the link to the article she sent me. The link takes me to the D.C. Tribune. The article is titled: Mom Takes Advantage of Hockey Bad Boy to Get Her Son to the Top.
I groan, then put the phone back to my ear. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. This is ridiculous, and completely untrue.” The guys are leaning in, whispering and trying to figure out what’s going on.
I place a hand over the lower part of my phone and whisper, “There’s a gossip article about me and Andie.”
Remy, who’s beside me, pulls his phone out and googles the article. He scrolls through, reading it and showing me all the pictures. It really does look bad. There’s a photo of me with Andie over my shoulder on that first day of practice. Another one of us standing very close to each other in a heated argument. Then, there’s another one of us at the Eagles’ game on Noah’s birthday. This one includes Noah in it too, which pisses me off. They could at least leave minors out of this.
“How the hell did they get these photos? And who took them?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“It was Steph,” she says. “There’s a video of their interview with her toward the bottom of the article.” Her voice sounds choked and I wish I was there to hold her.
I close my eyes, fighting back anger and frustration. I remember last night at the game, how mad she was and the accusations she made. Throwing a fit because she wasn’t getting enough attention. Like mother, like son, apparently.
“I can’t believe her—” I’m cut off when my phone begins to vibrate in my hand, I pull it back to see my manager trying to call me again. “Andie, can I call you back? My manager’s been trying to get ahold of me.”
“Yeah,” she sniffs. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I pause for a second, thinking of something to say to console her, but I come up short. “Okay, bye.”
She whispers goodbye and I feel like a tool for not saying something sweet to her. All I feel is anger, though not at her, but at everything else. And it’s so difficult to think when I’m angry. I let my phone go to voicemail while I breathe in for seven and out for eleven.
Max, of course, calls right back. This time I answer. “Hey.”
“I’m assuming you’ve seen the disaster?” he huffs.
I drag a hand through my hair. “Yep.”
“I told you this would happen.” It sounds like he’s gritting his teeth while talking.
“Yeah, I get it. So why don’t you tell me how to fix it? That’s your job right? Making this all go away?”
“Oh, there’s a really simple way to make this all go away. End things with the hockey mom. It’s a no brainer. Then, accept the sponsorship from the Franklin Distilleries, and this will all fizzle out within a week. And you and I will be even richer than we already are.”
My heart stops, the familiar sense of overwhelming dread coiling in my gut. I can’t imagine ending things with Andie. I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with her, and I didn’t even think my heart knew how to work like that. But Andie made it beat again, made the blood pump again, made me see everything in a new light. And being with me includes stupid drama like this. Us being photographed, being gossiped about.
And Noah, he’s an adolescent boy, now in the spotlight for less-than-positive reasons.
I should’ve known I couldn’t make their lives better. I should’ve known I’d drag them into my wasteland. Into this pit.
Faintly, I can hear Max yelling at me over the phone, asking if I’m still there. I hang up and let the phone drop to the floor, leaning forward and cupping my face in my hands. I just need the world to fade away for a minute while I think. I need silence for my brain to work.
A firm hand grips my shoulder, I know it’s Remy. In a low voice, I hear him say, “How can we help?”
