He keeps his voice low. “Why would she tell me something that’s going on with another player?”
“She thinks Morgan’s a good influence on me, because the other night when I got in that fight, I stopped when she asked me to.”
McCabe’s chuckle lasts longer than I’d expect. “Maybe you should change her contact name toNanny, then?”
Ithought I’d like having Morgan here in New York with us, but I was wrong. Watching her talk to my teammates, and seeing how close she is to them, does nothing but light my jealousy on fire until it’s a burning pit in my stomach. Maybe I need to talk to AJ, insist that Morgan’s presence isn’t necessary, and beg my boss to send her home?
Of course, then she’d ask me why, and I haven’t been able to think of a good reason. I’ve been sitting here at the bar nursing a single beer for the last hour, watching her laughing with Drew and Colt, and trying hard not to glower in their direction. It almost feels like they’ve already caught on and are being extra friendly with her just to piss me off.
I ask the bartender to close out my tab and head over to tell my friends I’m leaving. Coach wants us in our rooms by ten o’clock the night before games anyway, so it’s not like I’m heading back early enough that it’s going to raise eyebrows.
“Hey guys, I’m going to walk back to the hotel. See you at morning skate tomorrow.”
“I’ll head back with you,” Morgan says. “I have some work I need to finish up anyway.”
After we’ve made our way outside, I turn toward her. “You afraid I can’t make it back to the hotel without getting in a fight?”
She starts walking so I fall into step beside her. “I’d better make sure, since that’s the whole reason I’m here.”
I shove my hands in my pockets as we walk so I can fight the temptation to wrap my arm around her waist and hold her close to me as we navigate the New York City sidewalks. At least this late on a weeknight, it’s not super crowded.
“How’s your face feeling?” I ask. She ended up with a nasty bruise on her cheekbone, but luckily not a black eye. She’s covered it with makeup so it’s not very noticeable.
“Not as good as it felt before I got elbowed. How’s your hand?”
My knuckles are bruised and they still ache. “It’s fine. Listen, I’m sorry that you ended up having to travel with us when you didn’t want to. I’ll be on my best behavior this trip so it doesn’t happen again.”
“I think you need to extend that promise to the whole season, not just this trip. AJwantsto keep you on the team, Aidan. You just have to stop giving her reasons not to.”
“Did she say that?” My curiosity is piqued. “Or did your dad tell you that?”
She swallows. “My dad never talks to me about contract negotiations, but it’s possible AJ may have said something that led me to draw that conclusion.” We walk in silence for a minute, before she says, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Should the fact that you’re asking permission make me worried?”
“I don’t think so. I just keep wondering why you virtually disappeared last year? I know you were on IR and it’s not uncommon in a long-term situation like that for players to return home to complete their PT and recovery. But you wereless than an hour outside of Boston. Why didn’t you stay in touch with your teammates, or come to any games or anything?”
On the surface, it’s an innocent enough question. And it’s certainly the one on everyone’s mind. But it picks at old wounds in a way she can’t possibly understand... unless I tell her.
We stop at an intersection, waiting for the light to change, and I mull over how to respond. I like that she doesn’t press me for an answer as we stand there. It makes her that much easier to talk to, and it occurs to me that I haven’t had anyone I could talk to about things like this since Hayley. That should put me on edge, because I almost lost my first NHL contract thanks to that breakup, but somehow it doesn’t. It just makes me want to keep talking.
Once we’re crossing the street, I say, “Last year was one of the most difficult years of my life. I was in constant pain after each surgery because I refused to take any of the hardcore painkillers, given what happened with my dad. I couldn’t play the sport I’d devoted my entire life to, and had to watch my teammates live out my dream instead. I just... wasn’t in a good place.”
“I get that,” she says, and although I feel like anyone else would follow it up with abut,she doesn’t.
“I wasn’t trying to be a bad friend or teammate. I was barely holding my own shit together, and I didn’t have the capacity to be there for anyone else. And then when I was finally feeling more myself, my best friend’s wife died and I had to be there for him and his son.”
I glance at her when she doesn’t respond. She nods, chews on her lower lip, then says, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I bet your teammates would like to know... especially the ones you’re close to.”
“I don’t really know how to do this whole talking about my feelings thing.”
“The thing is... the more you do it, the easier it becomes.” She turns toward the entrance to the hotel and we walk through the doors into the lobby without talking. I’m still mulling over her words, and she’s good at giving me space to think.
“Are you letting your beard grow back in?” she asks when we stop in front of the bank of elevators. It’s short and neatly trimmed now, and my hair’s a bit longer than it was when we met at the end of the summer. I wonder if she’d have recognized me then, if I’d looked like I do now?
“I normally do, during the season. But I can keep it short if you prefer.”
She coughs out a laugh as we stand there waiting. “My opinion shouldn’t matter any more than anyone else’s who you work with.”
