Boyfriend Bargain(49)

“Is it true you’re suffering from a mental illness?” someone calls out.

That one stings, the stigma I hear in the voice, and I cringe. I want to change that point of view and make them see that I’m not weak.

I’m just me.

I keep my face straight, stoic as Eric, Reece, Boone, and several other members of the team follow me down the aisle and up to the long table that’s the center of attention.

Coach talks for a few minutes about our season then introduces me. I stand and take the podium, checking the mic.

I straighten my shoulders and run my gaze over the sea of reporters. A deep breath fills my chest. I’m a warrior and there’s no quit in me. And sometimes, just maybe, rock bottom is the perfect place to rebuild.

“First off, thank you for coming out at our request and giving our school the publicity about our upcoming tournament.” I pause, seeing the expectant looks on their faces. “As you know, I’ve had some issues this season that impacted my game, and today I’m here to tell you what’s been going on.”

I clear my throat, my hands clenching the podium. Stan gives me a nod from the back.

“This season brought along the usual pressures of leading a highly ranked hockey team, countless trips out of town, late practices, and the tense games against our most bitter rivals. At the Minnesota-Duluth game, I had an anxiety attack and couldn’t go back out. It was not the flu. I’m here to tell you that this has been an ongoing issue in several games this season, and my coaches and teammates have done their best to stand behind me, even when I didn’t know if I could go on. Through continued therapy and time, I’ve focused on each game one increment at a time, one play at a time as I tackle this. I’m fighting a winning battle with this illness, and I plan to keep forging ahead.”

My voice strengthens. “We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re a team that can withstand a few knocks to the ice. Sometimes the best leadership comes from the heart, and this team has mine. I want to lead by example, which is why I’m being as transparent as I can. I want to make sure our team reaches the Frozen Four, and there’s no doubt we can kick anyone’s ass in this tournament. We are going to climb this mountain.”

“Z! Z! Z!” calls the pep band in the back, and I smile briefly.

A tall reporter from the local station manages to wrangle his way to the front of the big ESPN guys, and I nod my head at him when he points his mic at me.

“I applaud you for admitting you have an issue. Are you worried about how this will impact your plan to play in the NHL?”

Ah. Isn’t that the million-dollar question?

“I have an open dialogue with them. They are aware.”

Several reporters turn to look at Stan, but he doesn’t make eye contact with any of them, just holds his hand up, letting them know he isn’t taking questions.

I survey the room, full of these people who live and breathe hockey in our state and even further. “I’m willing to do what it takes to win—and be healthy.”

“And how are you keeping yourself ready for the ice, Zack?”

A small laugh comes out. “Training my ass off, running, working out, eating right.” I pause, going deeper. “I’m identifying negative thoughts, accepting them, and challenging them. I’m a fighter.”

Another reporter noses in. “Will you be able to defeat that Minnesota-Duluth team in the tournament?”

I level my gaze at the camera. “Winners are born to be brought down and their day is coming. Go Lions.”

Cheers go up as the pep band kicks in again.

Flashes go off in my face and cameras swing back and forth, getting the full range of the packed room.

Coach rises to wrap everything up, and I move away and take a seat at the table.

“What else can you tell us about the Predators, Zack? Will you be at summer training camp?”

“Will you be placed on the sick roster?”

“Do you think you’ll have another episode?”

I don’t know the answers to their questions, but I know one thing is true.

Everyone knows what I’m dealing with, and there are no more secrets.

They know I’m not perfect. I have flaws—deep ones.

I may not ever play in the NHL, but at least there’s beauty in this, a kind of peace in admitting the truth.





39





Sugar





I stare at the door of the Kappa house. I don’t know why the hell I’m at this stupid party. Again.

But I do. Part of me wonders if he’ll show. Maybe he’s already here.

Let him go, I remind myself yet again.

I let out a slow exhalation. Just breathe.

I look down at my taupe ankle boots with fringe and the royal blue spaghetti-strap dress Julia suggested I wear. It’s soft and silky, and I’m freezing, but I don’t think I’ll be here long anyway. I think about my dorm room, already itching to get back to it. These days I rarely leave except for class and BB’s, and my friends are right—I’m a sad sack of shit.

I push the door open and the blare of Sir Mix-a-Lot hits me in the face. Nice.

The basement is semi-dark and decorated with tons of black and gold streamers hanging from the ceiling. A poster hangs on the wall: Take It All The Way, Lions. There’s even a banner with pictures of the players in their uniforms plastered next to the DJ booth.

My friends, who’ve obviously been waiting by the door, dash over. Taylor and Poppy are decked out in black and gold since we won our game in the tournament last night. Taylor’s wearing a glittery shirt with a lion on the front and Poppy matches him in a gold cardigan and black pants. Only Julia is the holdout in a clingy green dress and black stilettos. A familiar, tall guy in jeans and a grey sweater stands behind her, and she presents him gently as if she’s afraid I’ll rip his face off.

“Hi,” I say as the not-date-but-just-a guy-I-agreed-to meet-up-with gives me a grin, the same one he’s been giving me in class for the past few weeks. He is handsome, with dark hair, broad shoulders, and a muscular build. I guess it comes from being the wide receiver for the football team. Julia swears she’s never hooked up with him, but she did meet him the same night I met Z at the Kappa party. Turns out, they have two classes together, and a tentative friendship has ensued.

Dallas looks at me appreciatively. “Hey. You look beautiful. I’m glad you made it. Some of these guys were doubtful.” He throws a glance at Poppy, who snorts.

“Dude, she hates these things,” she says.

Taylor smiles. “I knew she’d show. Kappa parties don’t scare her.”

“I’m only scared of pixie girls who think I’m flirting with their boyfriends.” I laugh.

“There must be a story there,” Dallas says, and I nod as our friends eye us with interest and sip on their drinks.

I can practically hear Taylor cooing, wanting me to be into this guy.

And I get it.

They’re worried about me. They want me to be happy.

I nod, giving them a thumbs-up.

Let them believe it.

But…

Dallas isn’t going to fix me. I need out of Sparrow Lake and away from HU. I need distance from Z.

Dallas is charming, though, and I laugh at all the right times, even though my eyes keep sweeping the room.

A few drinks later—yes, I have the punch—and Dallas and Taylor are talking about the next championship hockey game that’s coming up, and my chest tightens. It’s enough that his face is everywhere, even in the news. I think back to the press conference a few days ago, and I feel a sense of relief about him going public.

Julia hooks her arm in mine. “I’m going to the bar. Come with?”

I give her a nod and we tell the others we’ll be back in a minute.

We weave through the crowd and a hand grabs me to spin me around.

My stomach drops.

But it isn’t Z.

Dressed in tight black pants and a Goo Goo Dolls short-sleeved shirt that showcases his nice arms and colorful tattoos, it’s Bennett. The brunette from the Tipsy Moose hangs on to him and it doesn’t even make me blink. Not one ounce of pain.

“Sugar!” He takes me in, his eyes brightening, taking in my dress.

“Hey.” My gaze drifts to the girl at his side and she just shrugs at me. Huh. He found someone who lets him do whatever, I guess? Well. Good for him.

He takes a step closer to me. “I’m glad I saw you, actually. I’ve wanted to tell you I’m sorry, really sorry about how I treated you. I didn’t do the right thing by you.”

I nod. “Okay.” Bye now.

Julia says she’s going to the bar, and I want to flip around and follow, but Bennett catches my arm, his gaze pleading, and I pause. “Truly,” he says, laying a hand on his heart, and I briefly wonder if he was always this dramatic and somehow I just missed it.

“I hope you’re good, Bennett.” And I mean it.

He smirks. “Will you forgive me for being a dickhead, babe?”

I laugh and he laughs along with me, looking a little unsure.

A slow song comes on, an Ed Sheeran tune, and Bennett gives me another lingering look.

Oh, shit. Please do not ask me to dance.

“Want to dance?” he says with a cocked eyebrow. “One more time for old times’ sake?”

“Uh…”

A gentle hand lands on my shoulder, and I turn to see Dallas behind me, looking rather awkward, and I get it when I see Julia and Poppy behind him. My eyes narrow. So, she didn’t go to the bar, instead circling back and bringing him over to save me.