When I Fall in Love(14)
“He’s really sorry, Max. You have to know that. You’re so busy, and he didn’t want to ask over the phone.”
“I called. I left a message. It’s on him.”
Silence. Then, “He just wants to find a cure.”
“Don’t we all? But there is no cure for HD, and I’m not going to be the poster boy for pity. Listen, I’ll try to make the party, okay?”
“Max—”
He hung up, put the phone on a bench, then went to the pull-up bar and grabbed ahold. Twenty-five pull-ups and he’d call it quits. He didn’t want to be sore for culinary school.
Max poured it all out on the ice eleven months of the year, from the Blue Ox summer camp, to training camp, to preseason games and PR events, to photo shoots, to the grueling weekly schedule all the way through play-offs and into the championship. He smiled and gave interviews and conditioned and showed up early for practice and lived and breathed and dreamed hockey.
For one measly month—no, three weeks—he just wanted to cook. Just wanted to enjoy slowing down, creating culinary delicacies, expanding his palate. . . .
Max Sharpe, chef.
He was on twelve when his phone vibrated again. He let it go until he hit fifteen, then dropped and scooped it up. “Lizzy, listen—”
“Lizzy?”
Oh, Jace. He blew out a breath, testing the impatience roiling through him. Normal or overly sensitive? He schooled his voice into something flat, easy. “Hey, dude. Sorry. I thought you were someone else. You back in town?”
He imagined Jace in his penthouse apartment overlooking the dome of the Minnesota capitol building. Someday he hoped to have his own fancy digs, with views of someplace beautiful. Jace had arrived. It only took him fifteen years.
Max didn’t have that long. Ten years, tops, to make the Hall of Fame. To leave a legacy.
“Yep, got back last night. Hey, remember that lead you gave me for the culinary vacation packages?”
“Yep. Great deals. Why?” Max propped the phone against his shoulder, held out his hands. Were they shaking? He couldn’t tell. He reached for a bottle of water and unscrewed the lid. No, not shaking, and his grip felt solid.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I hooked up Eden’s sister Grace with a trip.”
“Cool. She’ll have a great time. Where is she going?” He lifted the bottle to his mouth, drank.
A pause. “Hawaii. I thought—wait. Aren’t you going to Hawaii?”
Max nearly choked. Spitting water out, he coughed.
“You okay, Max?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Uh, Hawaii. Right, I’m going.”
“Swell. I told her you’d meet her at the airport—”
“What? Jace, c’mon, dude. I’m on vacation. I don’t want to have some fan hanging around me. I’m tired of fans. I’m going there to escape.”
“Did I mention she’s Eden’s sister? She’s been around hockey players her whole life. Trust me, the fascination died long ago.”
Max sat on the bench, pressing his finger to his pulse to take his heart rate.
“Again, hear me. She’s Eden’s—and Owen’s—sister.”
A jump in his pulse there, and Max had no doubt it was due to the flash of memory. Owen, bleeding on the ice. Max, holding the stick that had just crushed his eye. The chaos of the fight still echoing in the frigid night air. Then Owen writhing, screaming.
Owen, whose position Max had filled—some might say stolen—after Owen had to quit hockey. Max, earning accolades meant for the star player from the Christiansen family.
Jace must have read his thoughts, his silence. “She doesn’t know, of course.”
Because Jace, the only one who really knew, hadn’t told her?
Jace read that thought too. “It’s between us, Max. But I’m pulling rank on you here. Grace is . . . well, she’s a homebody. According to Eden, she doesn’t like to travel by herself. She even got her degree in home ec. Online, believe it or not. So traveling to Hawaii is sort of a big deal.”
Nice. A clingy fan afraid of traveling. That would be oh-so-fun.
“She’s an amazing cook. She catered a wedding this weekend, and you would have died at the food.”
“Awesome.” He got up, grabbed his shirt, and headed to the locker room. “This is my vacation, Jace. For three weeks I get to be a bum—surf and cook and hang out in the sun. I need this to get my head right, enjoy life a little.”
“Enjoy it with Grace. Listen, she’s a lot of fun. You’ll like her.”
“No, you listen. I don’t care how much fun she is. I have plans. A lot of them.”