She raised her eyebrows at me, “So, this is about jealousy? No, I haven’t.”
The way she responded pissed me off. I had the right to be upset. Jules threw me out all those years ago for that prick?
“There’s no need to be jealous,” Paige said, almost reading my mind. “They’re divorced,” she pointed out.
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel a little better to hear. But it was still shit. It was like I was beat in the semi-finals, and seeing my victor lose in the final game. Cool consolation, but I still lost.
I was not looking forward to dealing with what looked like Henry Hurley part two all season. I just hoped he wouldn’t show for many of the games, which I knew in the back of my mind was wishing a shit father on Canyon… not what I’d want either. I hoped he at least pretended to be a good dad to him.
I let out a frustrated growl, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.
I knew I needed to talk to her, but I couldn’t seem to make it past two sentences before I let anger overtake me and I had to walk away. What we’d had was love. And I couldn’t get that with anyone else. Every time I’d tried with anyone else, their touch would feel awkward and unnatural and a picture of her would slam into my mind like the biggest fucking cockblock of all time.
Yeah, I’d been with other girls since her. But I hadn’t been intimate with anyone else. I couldn’t cross that line. There was sex. But no talking, no foreplay, no cuddling. I could get away with it because those girls had only cared that I was playing in the NHL.
She must not have felt the same about us and I couldn’t comprehend it. How had she moved on so easily? She’d gotten married. She took it further with someone else. They had a kid together. I guessed that was just another way she was too good for me.
Smitty arrived then and slapped me on the back so hard I almost lost my sip on the bar.
“We put together quite the team, man. You gotta work with that kid though,” he said, shaking his head.
“Which kid?”
“Jules’ kid! Didn’t you see him out there? Straight fire, then flub.”
“Why don’t you work with him, you’re just as much responsible,” I pointed out. I wanted to work with him, I just didn’t like being told I had to. “And why aren’t we calling him 77? Or Canyon?” I spat out.
“Dude, I’m better with defense.” He rolled his eyes, “And like it or not, that’s who he is. I’d call him by his last name like the rest of the kids, but I think you’d lose your shit.”
I shot him a look that could murder, “fuck you.”
I guess I knew who I’d be working with next practice… Jule’s kid. In the back of my mind, I knew I was going to help him anyway.
Chapter Twenty-two: Jules- present
I could tell Canyon wasn’t happy when he walked into the lobby struggling under the weight of his bag. While his friends ran to the concession stand, he came straight to me and dumped his bag by my feet. His chest was heaved up and it looked like tears were threatening to come, but he was trying to hide it like hell from the other kids.
“I think Coach Grey’s mad I didn’t score. Dad is.”
I pulled his head toward me into a hug. That concerned me.
“What do you mean, hun? You played a great game,” I said, ruffling his hair. “We’ll just work on your shot in the driveway, okay?”
He pulled away from me.
“But Mom, you’re just a figure skater. You don’t know how to do it either,” his eyes looked at me helplessly.
“We can figure it out together, bud,” I told him, holding his chin, but I’d be lying if this didn’t break my heart a little. This was the disadvantage of him living with me full time and Kevin barely coming around. Although, even when Kevin was around, he didn’t take much notice of Canyon. He never helped him, yet he was so quick to criticize him.
“Where is your dad?” I felt my anxiety rise as I scanned the lobby.
“He left. He said I needed to work on actually scoring,” Canyon was lightly kicking his bag with his toe and didn’t want to look up at me. My sweet boy. He never wanted anyone to see him tear up. He was fighting it back.
“Know what else is bad,” Canyon struggled out, “Coach Grey was mad at me too. Do you think he won’t like me anymore because I didn’t score?”
I bent down to him then and looked into his worried little eyes, “No, baby. He wasn’t mad, sometimes you just can’t get one in.”
“He didn’t say anything to me after the game and he had a mad face on,” He grimaced.
