"Because it doesn't change anything." She adjusts her grip on Mel's briefcase. "I'm trying to build a life that has nothing to do with hockey or the Fury or any of that world. And here you are, parking like you own the place, proving exactly why I need to stay away from people like you."
"People like me?"
"People who don't think about consequences. People who take up space without considering who they're taking it from." Her voice drops. "People who are so used to getting what they want that they don't notice when they're making life harder for everyone else."
The words hit harder than any check I've taken on the ice. Because she's not entirely wrong. I parked in that spot without thinking. I've spent weeks trying to contact her without fully considering why she might need space. I've been so focused onwhat I want—a chance to explain, a chance with her—that I haven't stopped to think about what she needs.
"You're right," I say again. "I've been careless. I'm sorry."
She blinks, clearly not expecting the admission.
"But I'm not sorry for wanting to explain," I continue. "I'm not sorry for wanting a chance with you. I know I don't deserve it right now, but?—"
"Sloane?" Mel's voice carries from down the hallway. "You coming?"
Sloane walks past me before I can respond, her footsteps echoing in the reception area.
I stand there for a moment, watching her go, Donna's pointed stare drilling into the side of my head.
In the parking garage, I can see my shitty park job the way others must see it: some pompous, self-centered jerk who just takes what he needs and doesn’t think about how his actions impact anyone else. The worst part? This is not the first time I’ve parked like a jagoff. I honestly never considered the consequences before.
Of course, Sloane told me to fuck off. I’m not someone who deserves a second chance.
Not yet, anyway.
I think about Grentley’s admonishment, how I’m drinking away my opportunity to be a leader on this team. When did I become this fuckup, pretentious asshole?
I pull out of the garage without a plan, but with clarity.
I need to become someone worth believing in.
Even if Sloane never gives me another chance, I need to do this. For me.
CHAPTER 12
SLOANE
I settleinto a chair in the hall to wait for Mel during her interview, my body trembling slightly with residual anger over my encounter with Tucker Stag.
"Again, my deepest apologies," Tim says, his professional warmth restored now that Tucker has been dismissed. "That sort of thoughtlessness is unacceptable, especially from a family member that should know better."
"It's really okay," Mel says, though we both know it's not. "I appreciate your response."
I open my mouth to add something—probably something less diplomatic—but Mel shoots me a look that clearly says let it go. This is her interview. Her future. I'm just the angry friend who needs to shut up and wait.
Tim shuts the door to the conference room, and I’m alone in the inner office where the admin sits at her desk, eyeing me with curiosity.
"That was quite the scene," she observes as I sink into one of the leather chairs. Her nameplate reads Donna.
"Your boss's nephew parked over a wheelchair accessible entrance."
"I noticed." Donna's tone is dry. "I also noticed you tore into him pretty thoroughly. Good for you."
I don't know what to say to that, so I pull out my tablet,determined to use this time productively. Statistics. Exam on Monday. Focus.
But the numbers blur before my eyes as my mind replays the confrontation. Tucker's face when he realized what he'd done. The genuine shame in his apology. The way he'd said I was right without making excuses.
Josh never said I was right. Not once in five years.
