Grady rubs the back of his head. “Yeah, I mean, I thought it was…but…”
“But what?”
“When I was carving that pumpkin with her, I kind of got the sense that she was less sure about you than you thought like something was holding her back from thinking you weren’t going to leave for real the minute you had the chance.”
“That makes no fucking sense. I did everything I could to show her I was all in.”
“You keep saying that, but did youtellher you were all in?” Coop asks. “Because no offense, Jack, but you’re hard to read on a good day and don’t communicate as much as you should.”
Jesus, that was blunt.
But Coop’s wrong; Aulie doesn’t need the words to know how I feel—she has to know that everything I did was for her. That I loved her through my actions.
That’s how Darcy showed himself to Lizzie.
Captain Wentworth to Anne.
Mr. Knightley to Emma.
Shit, sure they showed it.But they also had some poetic declarations of love too.
The combination of the two gave what they said weight and what they did a deeper purpose, didn’t it?
Fuck.
“I might not have said it out loud.” I rub my heels in my eyes. “But she might have. Shit. Yeah, no, I know where I messed up.
* * *
“What the hellare you guys doing here?” I blink, staring at Wes, Grady, Big Ed, Coop, and his baby Carson huddled in the doorway of my apartment. “And why does Coop have his baby?”
“I promised Mandy she could have the night off.” Coop shrugs like that answers both parts of my question.
“Let us in, it’s chilly.” Grady pushes past me with five different pizza boxes. He goes to the kitchen, and the other guys bustle in. “We’re here to talk about you and Aulie.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I suck when I’m happy, but I’m not giving her up.”
“Why would you think we want you to do that? Asshat.” Grady opens the cabinets where my plates usually are. “Are they seriously all dirty?”
“We had a road game. I was busy.”
“Box it up, boys,” he says.
“And I thought you’d want that because you told me you did—you kept reminding me about the no-dating pact.”
“I was a man jilted by love.” Grady waves me off.
“I wouldn’t call what happened jilting, but sure.” Grady hands me a box loaded with every topping imaginable, and I accept my fate, going to the couch with the rest of the gang.
“If I need to play better to pick up your slack, I will. But as your friend, I can’t let you accidentally fuck this up—and you are.”
“Can you play better, Grady?” Coop asks, taking Carson with him to the couch in his carrier. “Because if you can, you probably should do that.”
Big Ed sits next to me, his pizza loaded with meats. “I don’t think you’re playing poorly because you’re happy. You were just rusty and in your head. Your dad always played best when he was happy. You know, the last thing he did before he got on the ice was look at a picture of you and your family. He said it helped him remember no matter what happened on the ice, he had everything he wanted waiting for him at home. It took the pressure off to play loose and hard. I think you could play like that, too.”
“And if you suck, you suck.” Wes shrugs. “But at least you’ll be happy. This shit could end tomorrow, you know.”
