HAYDEN
Camaraderie.
I want someone to lean on other than just my teammates.
The physical is not what I’m interested in right now.
I want to build a foundation with you.
Being traded out here, it’s been one of my worries, not having someone in my seats, cheering me on. To be in the stands for me.
It doesn’t matter anymore if I like her. It’s over, and I’m starting a new chapter in my life.
All things I’ve said to Noely over the last two weeks.
She’s sweet, funny as hell, caring, her family is obsessed with me—literally obsessed—and fucking hysterical. They are the support system I’ve been trying to find since I moved to California. It’s the first time since I moved that I feel part of a family again. Listened to. Acknowledged.
And yet . . . I can’t stop thinking about Adalyn.
How fucked up is that?
I have this perfect woman who’s interested in me, who’s taking it slow because I asked, who’s cheering me on in the goddamn stands at an exhibition game, and I can’t seem to get one girl out of my mind.
I should be excited. I should be over the moon right now.
We just had our first pre-season game. I slayed it on the ice, and I had Noely and her family cheering for me in the stands. I’m having celebratory drinks with a beautiful woman and yet . . . I’m unhappy.
Trying to give Noely the attention she deserves, I ask, “Did you have fun tonight?” I got her and her hockey-fan family tickets to the game tonight. I also scored them jerseys. I’m making the effort but my heart isn’t in it.
“I did, thank you so much for inviting us. And before you even ask, I had the nachos, extra jalapenos.”
“My kind of girl.” I tilt my beer in her direction and take a pull, my lips pressed against the bottle. Come on, Hayden, make an effort.
I must not do a good job because after she takes a sip of her drink, she flatly asks, “Do you like me?”
Fuck.
“What?” I chuckle, trying to play it off. “Do I like you? That’s an odd question to ask. Of course I like you, or else I wouldn’t be here with you. Why do you ask?” Smooth, good job.
“I don’t know. I know you wanted to take things slow, but it almost feels like we’re more like friends than a new couple. You’ve been to my place twice now, at night, and not even a little kiss.”
It’s because I can’t get myself to kiss another woman.
I run a hand over my face. I might as well call a spade a spade. I can’t keep dragging her along, because it’s not fair to her. “It’s not you—”
“Oh God, the classic it’s not you, it’s me line.” Her face falls flat and I instantly regret what I’m about to say.
“I don’t mean for it to sound cliché.”
“I know you don’t, but man, it still stings.” She takes a large gulp of her martini and sticks the olives in her mouth, chomping down, looking anywhere but at me.
I fucking hate this so much. “Let me explain, Noely, before you get upset, or get drunk. I mean, I do like drunk Noely, but I’d rather you be present for this conversation.”
Even though I asked her to be present, I can tell she’s already checked out, and that’s on me.
Sitting back, olive spear still in hand, she says, “What’s going on, Hayden?”
It’s now or never. I suck in a deep breath and lay it all out on the table. “During the off-season, I spent the last couple months on the East Coast in my hometown. I spent a lot of time with my good friend who introduced me to this girl.”
