Clusterpuck (Vegas Crush #9)

24. The Lone Wolf Guy

24 /

the lone wolf guy

Tripp

We’re in the locker room after a game against Colorado, just narrowly having won our game. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I lacked focus and played like utter shit.

As I pull off my uniform and pads, it’s not the game on my mind. It should be, but all I can think about is Lila, and about the baby we made. I have royally fucked this young woman’s plans for the future by not keeping my dick in my pants, and I have no idea how to make things right with her.

Everyone’s talking about going out for a beer, but I have no interest. None. I just want to go back to my place and wallow. I thank the guys for the invitation and hang back, unmotivated to even get up off the bench and make the drive home.

Evan Kazmeirowicz, ever watchful, comes over as things clear out. “You okay, man?”

“I’m fine. Just some personal issues.” I’m gruff with him, the threat of a heart-to-heart enough to give me the motivational push I was lacking. “I’ll get through it.”

To my dismay, he sits down next to me, leaning his head back against the lockers. “I get it, though. Life is crazy sometimes. I’m here if you want to talk.”

“I’m, uh, not really a heart-to-heart guy, if you know what I mean.”

He chuckles. “The lone wolf guy. The guy who does his own thing and avoids human connection at all costs.”

“This is such a weird fucking place. The way people are all up in each other’s business all the time. This is a sports team, not a family. We get paid to be here, to perform, not to sing ‘Kumbaya’ and cry about our feelings. How about some fucking privacy?”

Evan sits up. “We’re public figures. Everyone knows our business anyway. There’s no such thing as privacy for guys like us.”

“That’s not the same. I’m not out there making headlines in the bars or whatever. I’m just here to do my thing and go home at night.”

“You know,” Evan says, pushing back up onto his feet, “you’d feel a hell of a lot lighter without that chip on your shoulder. I can see you’re a good guy down deep. I saw it with that kid in the weight room.”

“And you’re Mister Nice Guy. I get that, and I appreciate that you want to be everyone’s friend but it’s cool. I’m here for a year. You don’t owe me anything.”

Evan nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’m here as a friend if you need one, nonetheless.”

He leaves and I sit for a long time, alone, before finally forcing my ass up and out the door. On the drive home, the city is alive with activity around me. It’s a blur, though, because all I can see is Lila’s face. All I can think about is her hair and her lips and her skin. I let myself have the fantasy, but now I’ve ruined her life. I fucking hate myself for it, and I need to make it right.

I send her a text as soon as I park the Porsche.

Tripp: checking in–u ok?

Lila: I’m fine. You?

Tripp: wanted to give you space but I think we should talk

Lila: Yes. Agreed.

Lila: You had a game tonight?

Tripp: wasn’t pretty–was distracted

Lila: Sorry.

Tripp: not ur fault

Lila: …

Tripp: srsly

Tripp: how’s Max?

Lila: Okay. He’s home because he made a big stink and said he’d pay for home health.

Tripp: would it be a big deal if I came out to see you?

Tripp: tonight

Lila: That would be fine, I think.

Tripp: be out soon, then

Pulling up to Max’s estate, I admire what an amazing house it truly is. Sitting just outside of town on many acres of land, the sprawling, open, mid-century-modern home is hidden from immediate view by purposeful privacy landscaping. I’ve always loved this house. It’s bright and open and not too stuffy with a desert view cover worthy of Condé Nast Traveler.

Lila meets me at the door, putting a finger over her lips and leading me through the house and back to her bedroom. She shuts the door once we’re in and whispers, “Max is asleep, and I’d like it to stay that way so he won’t get up in our business.”

I cringe a little at this. “Have you two talked since his surgery?”

She gives me a weak smile. She looks exhausted, I realize. “We did. He told me about the start of his relationship with my grandmother and how my dad was an oops-baby.” She lets out a little whisper of a laugh. “He seems less agitated about things, but he definitely wants us to think about making a go of this…whatever this is.”

I chew on my bottom lip while I think about what to say. I shouldn’t have to think about it because I planned the whole damn conversation out in my head on the way out here. But here I am, tongue-tied and nervous and feeling more than a little sick to my stomach.

“How’s he doing? Health-wise, I mean.”

“Okay, I think. He’s through the worst of it, but he’s told me he intends to go vegan, which is hilarious since that man likes red meat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We’ll see how long it lasts. Do you want some tea?”

I don’t want tea, not really, but I can sense she feels antsy, so I nod and she says she’ll be right back. While she’s gone, I look around her room. It’s an adult room now, made up with good artwork and good furniture and a few knickknacks, but nothing personal. Nothing that screams about who Lila is today. This has always been her room when she’s stayed with her grandparents, and I remember peeking in once when she was a late teen and seeing posters of NHL players on the walls. Including my own, which made me swell with pride. It also made me feel guilty and dirty because I knew she had a crush on me, and it took every bit of decency I had not to act on it.

I didn’t act on it, then, but now I have. And we are in a whole cluster of a predicament because I did act on it. And the more I think about her, the more I want to know her. Like, really know her. The more I want to protect her and watch her grow into the woman she’s becoming.

She walks back in with two steaming mugs, and I just blurt it out before she can even set them down. “Marry me.”

Lila’s mouth opens, then closes, as a blush creeps across her cheeks. Her hands shake a bit as she hands me a cup and takes a seat next to me on the chaise near her window, inhaling the tea smell, then taking a sip. When she finally speaks, it’s only to ask, “Why?”

I have to admit, during my practice session on the drive over here, this is not an answer I anticipated. I imagined plenty of responses, but a simple Why wasn’t one of them. I’m a little flabbergasted by it, can feel my eyes go wide in surprise. A very dumb answer comes out of my mouth. “You know why.”

Lila looks less than impressed. She laughs, but it’s a dark and cynical sound. “That’s exactly what a person wants to hear when someone is proposing. Quite romantic.”

“I…”

“You’re trying to do the right thing. I know. And thank you. But sometimes the right thing isn’t actually the right thing. You know what I mean?”

She grabs a notebook and a pen from her bedside table and writes Pros on one side, puts a line down the middle of the page, and then writes Cons on the other side.

“So, on the cons side, the obvious,” she says as she writes. “Neither of us wants marriage or kids. At least not right now. And probably not with each other.”

I almost tell her that being her husband, being a father to her child, wouldn’t be so bad, I don’t think. I almost say that I spent a lot of time trying not to want someone I couldn’t have, and that there was something hopeful about being with her, something that made me think maybe I could have what I wanted.

Of course, I don’t say those things because I don’t think it would help and I don’t want her more spooked than she is. I just say, “I don’t want you to feel trapped. I just want you to feel supported. I want you to know I’m here.”

She stares at me and her eyes seem misty. “That’s certainly very kind. And, of course, we were both brought up Catholic and live in Catholic families that will probably support and embrace us and our kid.” She adds the words Family Support to the Pro side of the list.

“Our families are so close now. I know they would support us. Though I’m sure Jenn will have plenty to say.”

“Jenn always has plenty to say,” she says with a true laugh. “It’s like white noise at this point.”

“You love her; don’t lie,” I say, grinning.

“I do. She’s a badass.”

“That’s one way to describe her.” Lila smacks my arm and I laugh. “Just kidding. She is a badass. Always has been.”

We talk for a while, Lila writing things on both sides of the list the whole time. On our careers, she has arguments on both sides. “I’m just starting out. Having a baby could really derail my goals. But you’re sun-setting your hockey career, so maybe that timing works. That is, if you’re willing to be an active participant in our child’s care.”

I roll my eyes. “I know you think I’m some dumbass who won’t change a diaper or whatever.”

“Okay, so let’s say we agree that you’re going to assist with the daily duties of raising a child,” Lila says, pushing her silky hair behind her ears. “I’m just saying that it feels like school and starting a career don’t allow for the casting of a tiny human who needs care twenty-four seven. We know what these jobs are like. Late nights. Time on the road. It feels like a lot.”

“It is a lot,” I agree, “but people work and have kids all the time. They figure it out. And you’re a pretty smart cookie, so there’s at least one fully functioning brain between us.”

This makes Lila grin, which melts me right then and there. She writes a few more things on the list. When I put my hand on top of hers, she looks up, confused.

“What are you doing with this?” I gesture at the notebook and incline my head.

She bites down on her bottom lip and nails me with her gorgeous brown eyes. “I’m a planner, Tripp. You should know that about me by now. That I really don’t like doing things without thinking them through.”

“So, sleeping with me. Did you think that through? Was there a pro and con list for that?”