The Puck Drop by Jaqueline Snowe

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Naomi

Mona, Kellie, and Lilly all wore grins way too large for their faces when I arrived back at our place. My entire body burned with embarrassment because yeah, we all knew I spent the night somewhere. If this was Kellie, none of us would bat an eyelash, but it was me. The good girl. The boring one. It was a big deal.

“Stop staring at me,” I mumbled, tossing my keys onto the side table.

“Where were ya last night?” Mona asked, wiggling her brows to the point she reminded me of a cartoon character.

“Michael’s. You all know this.” I huffed out the awkward need to laugh and poured myself some coffee. “I’ve been there how many times the last few weeks?”

“Naomi has a regular booty call, and I don’t. This isn’t fair,” Kellie said, falling back onto the couch with an exaggerated groan. “He’s so hot too.”

I sat in the recliner and tucked my feet to the side as we all positioned ourselves in the living room. This was the best part of sharing a place with these girls. The way we could just sit and hang out. We had our own spots, and even now, I was dying to tell them about Michael and me. “Listen, he asked me last night if I wanted to be together-together.”

“Shit,” Mona said, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Didn’t think the guy had it in him.”

“Shut up, Mona. You’re just cranky because your vibrator ran out of batteries,” Kellie fired back. Kellie smiled at me. “What did you say? You seem happy with him.”

“We agreed we were a thing. Exclusive too.” God, the room was hot.

“We’re happy for you, really. Now we don’t have to pretend we didn’t know you two were hooking up on the reg,” Lilly said, flashing me her cheeky grin. “Bring him over sometime so we can grill him.”

“Absolutely not.” I shook my head and tried to picture how that conversation would go. No way. They knew too much about me and had potential to embarrass me. “Hell no.”

“That’s no fun for us. Seriously. The last guy you dated was a dweeb, and now you have Michael and we can’t interrogate him? This seems like a breach of the friend contract.”

I flipped Lilly off. “I like him,” I said, voicing the thought that had been swirling in my mind the past week. “A lot.”

“He’s an easy guy to like, but just be careful, alright?” Mona said, her tone softer than all the teasing before. “I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there and he’s treated you well. I just… have this feeling. I don’t know. He’s still a hockey guy.”

The need to defend him surged out of me. “Hockey’s not so bad, Mona.”

“Okay, okay.” She put her hands up in the air and blushed. “I’ll say no more.”

The conversation skated away from Michael and me to Kellie’s latest dilemma. I couldn’t help but check my phone every thirty seconds to see if Michael had texted me or not. There was nothing. No news of what my dad wanted to ask him, and the longer the radio silence went on, the more my nerves frayed at the edges.

Maybe it was something about his internship. That made the most sense, but the weight in my gut grew as the morning stretched into lunch. I’d already texted him once, but there was no indication he’d read the text yet. I didn’t want to be needy and ask again, but shit, this was a lot.

Kellie and Lilly went to the library to get a head start on homework, and that left me and Mona at the apartment. I didn’t like the way she studied me, like she knew something about the future I didn’t. Michael was honest to a fault, and I had to trust that.

“I’m going out,” I said, craving some fresh air. Maybe I’d stroll toward the rink. Just to see if they were still there. That’s creepy.

“Oh yeah, to where?” Mona asked, essentially calling me on my bluff.

“To walk. It’s beautiful outside.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” I said, not sure what reason I could give her. “I just need to clear my head. Alone.”

“No worries.” She frowned for a beat. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t want to stress you out. I love you to death, Naomi. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” I smiled at her, and that eased some of the tension in my gut. I couldn’t shake the feeling that last night and this morning were just a dream. It had to be my nerves creating fake scenarios because of how much I was into him. I had it bad.

“Let’s watch How to Get Away with Murder later, yeah?”

“You got it.”

I left the apartment in the same thing I wore last night, but it was cold enough I didn’t care. Plus, the sweatshirt smelled like Michael’s place, and I was probably a little lovesick.

LOVESICK? Love? Did I love him?

I stared at an old oak tree that had been around for decades as I contemplated the answer. I thought about him all the time. I wanted to take his pain and make it my own, and my heart beat twice as fast when he was around. If I wasn’t in love with him yet, I would be very soon.

He had to be feeling something similar with all the things he said. He was an open book, and maybe it was time I attempted that too. I got my phone out and texted him.

Naomi: I hope everything is okay. I’m trying this new “Reiner” thing where I’m honest as hell. I want you to know I’m falling for you, hard.

Wow. I sent it and shoved the device into my pocket. That was exhilarating and terrifying. But it was worth it. I wandered around the quad for a good thirty minutes before heading into a different cafe. Still no response from Michael and I was hungry.

“Nana?” Cami’s voice startled me, and I spun to see her right in line behind me.

“Hey, hey,” I said, pleased at the surprise.

“How are you doing?” she asked, her brows coming together in a way that had me on edge. That made no sense. Why would she assume I wasn’t doing phenomenal?

“Um, good, why?”

“The sudden change with Michael? I assumed y’all were hooking up, but this’ll have to shift that dynamic, I’m sure. Dad won’t let him have a moment of free time.” She snorted and squinted at the menu on the wall. “Have you had their salads? I shouldn’t eat carbs, but fuck, I’m hungry.”

“What change, Cami? What are you talking about?” I asked, the metaphorical shoe dangling from a cliff, ready to drop and ruin my momentary bliss.

She winced. My fearless, ballsy sister winced. “Hank quit. Something to do with family out west.”

“Okay?”

“Michael’s the new assistant coach for the team. Didn’t he tell you? Did dad not send you a text too?”

My head spun, and I gripped the counter in front of us. Assistant coach. To my dad. For the school team.

No one told me.

Not either one of them. How could they ignore me over something so important? My eyes stung, and my stomach cramped with pain from betrayal, disappointment, and resignation. Keeping this from me was an active decision.

“How is that possible? He’s a student,” I said, trying to grasp at straws.

“Not sure.” Cami narrowed her eyes again. “Want to split a parfait?”

“How do you know this?” I asked, my voice tense. “Did Dad tell you?”

“Yeah.” She picked up a bag of chips and an apple before she met my eyes and shrank back. “Dude, why are you paling?”

I swallowed down the pain in my throat. This changed everything. Us being together-together. I was sure. The lack of response from Michael confirmed the shift between us. One night of bliss. That was what we had before hockey came between us.

I should’ve fucking known.

And one of them should’ve fucking told me.

“Thanks for telling me,” I mumbled, my own voice sounding off to my ears. Cami nodded and ordered a salad before looking at me with wide eyes. “Oh um, just a tea please,” I said.

“Not hungry?”

“Not anymore.”

We got our food and made our way toward the back of the cafe, my stomach absolutely in tithers. My phone sat upright, my texts unanswered, and I chewed my lip. How was it even possible to have a student be an assistant coach? There had to be rules against that.

“Having Michael as an assistant is a huge gain for dad. Hank was fine, but Michael only left the ice a year ago, right? He has clout and charisma.”

“Spend a lot of time with him?” I snapped.

Cami held her hands in the air. “No, I don’t. Dad does and talks about him constantly. An assistant coach can make or break the team. Hank didn’t add anything for the past three years. Sure, decent guy, but no player would go to him for shit.” Cami took a bite of her salad and groaned. “I hate that I have to keep my figure for dance. Sometimes, I just want to eat all the fucking carbs on campus.”

“Eat the carbs then,” I snapped, my body tight as a rubber band. I was seconds away from breaking. My breathing wouldn’t settle as a huge wave of betrayal hit me.

Michael chose my dad.

My dad chose Michael.

No one ever chose me.

“Okay, you’re being a real dick. Talk me through it.” She set her food down and propped her elbows on the table. Her makeup was perfect, her lips red, and her hair styled in a way I couldn’t do if I tried. And yet, her gaze softened, and the look was enough for me to release my fears.

“We just decided we’d give a relationship a shot and then this happens? He was going to find a way to tell dad we were together, but now as an assistant coach? I know what it’s like to try to love someone when the ice always comes first. Should I assume we’re over? This could lead into next year or a full-time coaching job. We’ve already seen one marriage end over that.”

“Okay, first off, marriage? Chill out, girl.” Cami laughed, but it wasn’t filled with joy. “You gotta figure out if you trust the guy. Either you do or you don’t, and that’ll be your answer. Sure, it could get weird or complicated, but all this assuming you’re doing isn’t a good call. Talk to him about it. See what he wants to do.”

“And if he wants to end it?” A fist took my heart and squished it at the thought.

“At least you’ll know, instead of playing this fucked up game in your head. I doubt he wants to break it off. I’ve seen how protective he is around you. And yeah, it’ll be awkward with having dad as his boss, but what’s the rush?”

My heart. That was the urgency. I’d already fallen for the guy, and I didn’t want to fall more because I’d be second place. I was always second fucking place.

This was why friends with benefits was better. We would’ve at least still been friends, and after he opened up to me about only being close with me, I didn’t want to leave him. He needed a friend. Maybe that was the answer. I could take a step back. See how things played out. Give myself a little time to put up some walls.

Yeah. Maybe.

My phone buzzed, and I answered it way too fast. Cami raised her brows and smirked, but every cell in my body was tense. “Hey, hello?”

“Fletcher, god, sorry I’m just now calling you. Everything’s… okay. I’m getting pulled into something all afternoon, but I’m hoping I can stop by later?”

“Right. Yeah. What did my dad want?”

“To talk about opportunities. It’s not anything bad or too crazy,” he said.

He lied. Being an assistant coach was huge. “Nothing crazy?” I asked, my control snapping. “You weren’t just named assistant coach of the team?”

“Naomi,” he said, his voice firmer than before. “I didn’t lie to you. I would never do that. A lot is going on, and I’d like to talk to you about it tonight. I’ll text you before I head over?”

“Sure.” God, I sounded bitchy. Cami’s knowing glare told me I did too. “See you later then.”

I hung up, hating myself for acting so childish. I almost-loved the guy, and I shouldn’t have acted like that. This was why feelings were messy. They made people do stupid shit. I rubbed my face with my hands. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hm, that feels like a loaded question I’d rather not answer.”

That made me snort. My sister was back in my life, and I didn’t want anything ruining it. “Probably a good idea.”

“But,” she said, arching her brow and leaning closer to me. “It’s clear that you’re scared.”

“I am.”

“Of what? Getting your heart broken? You’ll be fine. Mom’s fine.”

“Yeah, with her new family. She calls me once a month now, but they’re getting shorter and shorter.”

“I get a few texts, so be thankful about the calls.  Maybe that wasn’t the best example, but you get what I mean. If you’re scared of him picking hockey instead of you, you’ll have to get over that. Is this his dream? What young athlete gets a chance to be an assistant coach before they graduate? Don’t jump to conclusions and hear him out, Nana. If you really care for the guy, you’ll listen.”

Wow. My sister’s words were like a sucker punch to the gut. How could I be upset with him if this was his dream? He mentioned feeling lost without hockey, and now he had a chance to make a difference. Find a new home. I had to wait and let him explain. I closed my eyes and nodded. “You’re right.”

“I know, but it feels good to hear you say it.”

We changed topics after that, but her words stayed with me all afternoon. The day wore on, but each time I looked at my phone, without a text or call, my stomach hardened. At nine, Cami checked in on me, and the buzz of my phone sent butterflies through my gut. Not Michael. I texted her back, but the weight in my stomach worsened.

I tried to rationalize all the things that could’ve happened. He was busy, obviously, but to tell me he’d stop by? I sighed, the hope of us disappearing more and more. The same, horrible feeling that I wasn’t worth it came back full force. Like all the times my dad made promises and backed out.

It wasn’t until eleven that I got a text from him.

Michael: I’m so sorry. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be over.

* * * *

Dad: Gotta reschedule the project thing again. Hank quit, and the team needs me. Hope you don’t mind.

I stared at my phone the next morning, unfazed by my dad’s second attempt at not meeting with me. The first time—Michael and Cal stole his attention. This time… Hank. Sure, the team was always more important. Not his daughter. Never me. There was always going to be someone or something else that mattered more. What if he needed Michael? What if Michael turned out to be just like him? Cancelling plans. Not realizing how much he’d hurt me. The first couple of times I’d forgive him, sure. But then how long would it go on?

I rubbed my temples and tried not to let my fingers tremble.

Three things were clear after getting a shitty night’s sleep and waking up to my dad’s text. I couldn’t be upset with Michael for figuring out his dream or future. He deserved the world. The second thing that became clear was the fact hockey would be his main priority. It made sense.

But I wasn’t sure I could handle that. I knew what it felt like after watching my mom, and as the leftover daughter, I found out the hard way about coming in second place. Protecting my heart was important because it had never really felt whole. The third thing was the fact I didn’t want to lose Michael. If we were together, there was a large chance we’d break up and it’d be awkward and horrible.

Staying friends was safer. Easier.

A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts, and I let Michael into the apartment, trying not to cry at how badly I wanted to pull him to me.

“Hey,” I said, my voice scratchy.

“I brought you coffee.” He set a cup on the counter and bent down to kiss the top of my head. “Man, it has been a fucking weird twenty-four hours.”

“Michael.”

He stilled and looked at me, his blue eyes narrowing and frown lines forming all over his face. God, he was so handsome. I gulped, finding my courage to do what I needed to.

“What is it?”

“Are you the new assistant coach for the Central Wolves?”

“Yes, I am.” He sucked one of his cheeks in, and his shoulders stiffened. “I think we should talk about what it means for us.”

“We both know already,” I said, leaving the coffee on the counter and pacing near the kitchen table. Lilly’s textbooks sat out, and I focused on those instead of Michael’s face. I had one question to ask before I did what had to be done. “Did you tell my dad we were involved yesterday?”

This was the chance to prove that I’d come first because last night felt too familiar. My mom waiting up for my dad to get home and eventually giving up. Me, pacing after school because he was supposed to pick me up and forgot. My mom, Cami, and I always boxing up food at restaurants because something happened on the team.

My breath lodged in my lungs, waiting for the inevitable no.

“Naomi, what are you doing?”

God, he sounded sad.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Because we can’t be together, okay? Not now.” I put my hands on my hips and faced him. “You coach for him. I know what it takes, and you’ll be pulled into that world even more. Plus, you’re still a student, which I’m not even sure how that would work. Do you still go to classes? Are you getting paid? Either way—”

“Hey, take a breath. You’re talking too fast.” He moved to stand closer to me, but I stepped back when he reached out to touch me. That seemed to break the warmth in his eyes, fast. “Do you or do you not want to be with me?”

“It’s not a simple yes or no question,” I said, my watery voice not helping the situation at all. I could practically hear my mom’s voice from all the fights her and my dad had for years. Why didn’t you marry the fucking sport then?I can’t be with you if hockey is in your life. It’s me or hockey.

He always chose hockey. And look at them now…

“Yeah, it is. Because if it’s a yes, then we'll figure it out together. Sure, it’s not ideal that I’d have to tell your dad I’m sleeping with his fucking daughter, but I will.”

“You could’ve yesterday,” I said, fighting tears at this point. “You could’ve accepted the job after you told him the truth. But no. Hockey will always come first.”

“Naomi, I’d like to give us a shot. It’ll take some time to adjust, but I want to be with you.” He ran a hand over his jaw, suddenly looking very tired.

I’d be a fool to believe him. To think he wouldn’t fall into the same patterns. Next time will be better. I swear. I heard my dad promise my mom things would be fine and not a month later, it was back to hockey everything.

Just a weekend game. Just a sick player. Just a quick coaching thing.

Michael saying we’d adjust… no. We wouldn’t.

“I think… I think we should be just friends for a bit. Like we originally planned.”

He blinked and flexed his jaw a few times. I wasn’t sure what I wanted him to say, but the silence dragged on, and I fought the urge to throw up. Then he said, “For a bit? What does that mean?”

“Just that with this change and the new pressures you’ll face, it’ll be easier to remain friends.” And when he chooses hockey every single time, it won’t hurt as badly.

“So, you’re too scared to give this a chance.” He backed up a step. The distant look I saw him wear when he talked to others replaced the tender gaze he used on me.

And as always, he cut right to the chase.

“Maybe, maybe not. But this is the right move. You have so much to balance now.”

“And you get to decide for me. Okay, cool.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well thanks for thinking about me and what you think I want.”

“This is hard for me too, Michael.”

“Is it? Because you’re the one making all the calls right now.” He exhaled and sliced me into pieces with the coolness of his blue eyes. “I should’ve known better,” he said, just above a whisper.

He spun around and walked out my door, and the absolute devastating realization hit me in the chest.

No more Michael.

No more touches and late night conversations. No more holding hands and laughing with him. Those blue eyes wouldn’t look at me and crinkle on the sides, and fuck. My stomach coiled tight, like I might throw up. I covered my mouth with my hand as a sob broke through. I hurt him in trying to protect myself. The guy who had already suffered so much loss.

My soul ached, and my heart shattered into pieces as I sank to the ground. If this was the right choice, then why did it feel so horrible?