Clusterpuck (Vegas Crush #9)

22. I’ve Got You

22 /

i’ve got you

Tripp

Back at the cottage, I pace and pace.

Have I ruined Lila’s life? Her future? Just because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants. Just because I couldn’t pull out when I came? What am I, a teenager with no self-control?

I am not a teenager, but my control is shattered when I am around Lila Marchmont-Terry. The seal is broken now. I’ve felt her, tasted her. Years of taboo wanting have burst at the seams. And now here we are—Lila pregnant with a baby she doesn’t want to have, being told she has to marry a man she doesn’t want to be with.

She could be the next Max Terry, the next owner of the Crush. That’s an amazing opportunity. She has plans: to go back to school, to build her career, and keep learning the business. And someday, when Max is gone, she will ascend into his position as the owner of a very, very successful NHL franchise.

How does having a baby play into that? How can she possibly do that and raise a baby? How can she focus on her goals if she’s stuck with two things she said she didn’t want right now—marriage and a kid.

More than once, she’s told me it was just sex, just the fulfillment of a teenage crush. For me, the fulfillment of something dark, something I shouldn’t have wanted in the first place. And to be clear, I made love to Lila the woman. The strange attraction I felt for her when she was eighteen was gone. In its place, the exploration of a grown woman, a woman capable of sharing the experience fully.

She’s an amazing woman. A smart woman. And she deserves better than me. I’m about to be washed-up, out of the spotlight. What could I possibly offer her?

And what do I want? I don’t really know anymore. I do care about Lila. She’s nearly family—how could I not? But I wasn’t wanting marriage or kids, either.

Fuck.

I force myself to breathe. I take a deep breath in. Another one out.

Honestly? If I had to have those things, kids, a wife, Lila wouldn’t be a bad person to share them with. She’s smart and sexy. A little serious. Definitely not interested in staying home with the kids like my mom did. But so beautiful. And fierce. And driven. I can respect that.

It’s late in the night when she texts me.

Lila: Max is doing fine. Not out of the woods, but stable.

Tripp: That’s good to hear

Lila: I’ll wait until he’s stable, home, then tell him I can’t do this. I can’t have a baby at 23.

Lila: I have plans for my career. I have school lined up this fall. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Lila: I won’t trap you into a marriage you don’t want, with a kid you don’t want.

Tripp: …

Lila: I’m sorry I got you into this.

Tripp: I believe the decision was a mutual one

Tripp: I wasn’t forced but I also didn’t act responsibly

Lila: But I got in your face. I was aggressive about what I wanted. You’ve always been respectful of the distance.

Tripp: Because it felt dirty to want you

Tripp: You’re so young

Tripp: But I see you now

Tripp: Maybe we’re not thinking clearly about the possibilities

Tripp: Owning the Crush—it would be the icing on the career you’re trying to build

I give up on texting and dial her number instead. She picks up on the first ring.

“Being the next Max Terry?” I say without preamble. “Didn’t you once say that Max is the reason you wanted to go into hockey management in the first place? Didn’t you say you wanted to be just like him? You really could be.”

“I still have so much to learn. I’m not nearly ready.”

“And he’s not dead. He’s still kicking, and he could live another twenty-five years. You have plenty of time.”

She sighs but doesn’t say anything. Thinking, I suppose.

“Can I see you?” I ask hopefully.

“No, not right now. There’s too much to think about, and I can’t be rational when I’m around you.”

Same, Lila Jayne, same.

“Well, how about this. How about I take you on a proper date. We can just talk, enjoy each other’s company, enjoy some good food. Pregnant women like food, right?”

“So sexist, all the time,” she mutters.

“Hormones, Lila.” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

“Whatever,” she says after a moment. “I’ll think about it. I mean, okay, yes. I’ll go out with you, but only after I’m sure Max is going to be okay.”

“All right. It’s a plan. I’ll let you go now. Sleep well and try not to worry too much, Lila Jayne. I’ve got you.”

“I know you always do, Tripp. Good night.”

After I spoke to Lila on the phone, I managed to get a little shut eye, waking up early in the morning with a ton of energy, mostly caused by anxiety, I think. I dress to work out and head to the arena gym. Dale isn’t in, yet, but one of the kids from the taxi squad is there. Axl, I think his name is.

“Hey, kid,” I say as I start out on the treadmill for a warmup.

“Hey,” he says, but there’s no heart in it. He’s doing an arm workout with the hand weights.

“You okay? You’re here pretty fucking early.”

“Meh,” he answers, lifting a shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“I can relate. What’s up?”

He stops his reps and looks at me. “Like you care. You nearly took my head off at that pool party.”

I obviously can’t tell him it was because I was having a fit of jealousy over Lila. I was an ass, and I know it. “Um, sorry about that.”

“Whatever, man.” He ignores me and starts up his reps again.

I decide not to force him to talk to me. If he wants to be an emo teen over there, then I’ll let him have at it. I shove my earbuds in and get started on my workout, but I can’t help but watch the kid. His movements are thoughtless. He’s just killing time, and his face is blank. This is not the same cocky kid I met at that party. The introvert in me is ready to go full effect. Fuck that brat. He can pout over there if he wants. The other part of me—the part that might finally be evolving—says he might need someone to talk to.

As he finishes up, I pull out my music and walk over to get a drink from the fountain, near where he’s toweling off. “I really can listen, if you want to talk.”

He sits on the bench and sighs. “It’s kind of embarrassing. I’m kind of…”

“Homesick?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah. I mean, I just graduated high school. And I’m only on taxi squad. So, I’m wondering if this is really worth it. You know? I don’t make shit for money. I don’t play on the travel squad. It’s not my face on those banners outside. You know? I just thought…”

“It would be more of a party? Chicks on your lap in the club, asking you for a selfie? Offering sex in the bathroom?”

He smirks. “Kinda?”

“It can be like that. It often is like that. But did you come here to be famous, or did you come here to get good enough to play with the big boys?”

“I came to get better. To get noticed.”

“You got noticed, kid, or you wouldn’t be here. The taxi squad is set up to give you a chance to practice with the full team. To learn the drills and show up and fight for your spot. So, fight for your spot. You know what I mean?”

“What if I don’t get rostered? What if they release me? Or trade me?”

“Then you figure it out. A trade means another team is willing to give you that chance. It’s not over. A release sucks, but you can go minor league. Build back up. It can be done. Or you can go to college and get an education so that you have something valuable to fall back on. You’ll be fine. It won’t be the end.”

“I guess.”

“And the homesickness? It wanes. It’s hard at first, but you’ll get through that, too.”

He stands and holds out a hand for me to shake. “Thanks, man.”

“Go home and call your mom.”

He grins and heads out of the gym. I stand, ready to follow him out, only to see Evan Kazmeirowicz sitting at Dale’s desk. I didn’t hear him come in.

He raises a travel mug at me. “Congrats on having a heart.”