I wouldn’t live through it if it was him.

My mom. My dad. I survived them, but him—he would be different. I had needed the idea of him.

I reached for the door, tears blinding me, and I left.

But people like me never got what we wanted. We never could.

I’d learn how to not need him. I’d have to, and if I didn’t?

Well, then…20CutWEEK ONE.

The girl was a headcase.

Fine.

Fuck it.

Fuck her.

Maybe this was better?* * *Week two.

I didn’t miss her.

I wasn’t thinking about her.

She wasn’t in my head.

I wasn’t the headcase.

Fuck.

I wanted to call her.* * *Week three.

She was still gone.

I had not called.

But I kept checking to see if she had called.

I kept opening the phone to text her.

Damn.

Dammit so bad.

I missed her.* * *Week four.

Still fucking missing her.

Still wondering what the fuck I should do.* * *Week five.

We were loading onto the plane, heading to Seattle for a game tomorrow night. I had my headphones in, music blaring, and I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now.

I never thought of myself as a moody bitch, but that’s what I had become. Cheyenne ran, and I’d been in a mood ever since.

My phone buzzed.

That wasn’t hope in my chest. No—and then a real no because I saw who sent it. My whole fucking chest deflated. It’d been five weeks and I hadn’t talked to Cheyenne, or Chad.

I wanted to talk to Cheyenne. I didn’t want to talk to Chad.

Chad: Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me. Good game the other night, by the way.

Right. The last game had gone past in a blur for me. I hit the ice and I wanted to kill. Crow was confused since he was the team’s enforcer, but I’d been wanting to fight. Itching for one. Coach called me in, talked to me, wondering what was up, too. I hadn’t said a word. We weren’t like that. I wasn’t like that, but hockey was my sanctuary. I hit that ice and that’s all I could control so I did. I controlled everything, everyone.

I was attaching to it like it was a lifeline right now.

Fuck.

Maybe Cheyenne had been right?

I was already worked up, worked up this much over her, and I’d only seen her a few times.

She was right. I mean, I didn’t know what the hell she actually went through.

Christ.

Swinging into my seat, I stuffed my bag under the seat in front of me and typed back.

Me: Let me call you when we land and I get to the hotel.

He’d been right. I had been avoiding him, but it wasn’t hard. He never came home the next day after the whole toilet papering event, and after our home game, he was out partying. I went to the house. Woke. Went to the arena.

We’d been traveling almost ever since. This was my life during the season. Chad knew it. It wasn’t uncommon that we went months without seeing each other. He was only saying something now because of Cheyenne.

Me: You back with the Russian?

Chad: She’s not a Russian.

Me: She pretends she is.

Chad: Lol

Chad: You and Cheyenne?

Me: What about us?

Hendrix dropped into the seat next to me, and I could already hear the music blaring from his headphones. He got settled, then tugged his headphones off and nodded to my phone.

“Your woman?”

“Chad.”

“Nice. I saw him at Bresko’s the other night.”

“Yeah?”

“Went there after one of our games with a few guys and he was there, in your box.”

I frowned. It wasn’t really my box, but I was a silent investor, and the owners kept a VIP section for us. Chad dropped my name, a lot. It was partly his job, but not for Bresko’s. I knew he was never employed there to promote them. The club didn’t need him, but Chad needed Bresko’s. He used his connection there to build up the crowd that he could pull for other clubs.

“Who was he with?”

“Not as many as normal. A few people, no one I remembered.”

I went back to my phone.

Me: Who’d you party with at Bresko’s?

Chad: Huh? Why?

Me: Cuz if you’re using my name, I want to know.

I was being a bitch. He always used my name, and he knew I knew it. This was just the first time I was saying something about it.

There was another long pause.

Chad: You don’t want me to use your name?

Me: I want to know who you’re taking to the VIP area and using my name.

Chad: WTF?

I scowled.

Me: Just tell me who you partied with.

Chad: Don’t be a bitch because my sister took off on you.

A whole whoosh sensation went through me. This fucker.

I was scowling.

Me: Wow, first time you actually called her that.

Chad: What the hell is your problem?

Fuck’s sake. I had to calm it down. He was right.

Then my phone started ringing. Chad calling.

I didn’t trust myself to talk civil to him. I didn’t know what I’d say to him over text either.