Fearless King Page 2

  There were too many people. This was when the switch flipped and I was outside myself, observing and keeping my distance. It was easier that way. On the ice, surrounded by thousands of screaming fans with all eyes on me for every shot on goal, I could deal, but the one-on-one stuff might as well have been squeezing lemons with a papercut-covered hand.

  On the other side of the room Heath rushed up and smiled wide, jumping with his hands on Emmett’s shoulders and nearly knocking him over in front of the camera crew. Heath’s surfer-dude look always caught the reporters’ attention no matter where we went. Emmett shook him off and finished talking to the reporter with the mic shoved in his scruffy-bearded face. I ran my hands over my stubble. The one time I let Declan talk me into going to a barber for a shave and the guy practically took the whole thing off. I felt exposed.

  I slipped past some of my teammates, a few clapping me on the back with cheers of “Good job.” I attempted a smile and kept my head down, making it to my locker. The flood lighting shut off, and the room dimmed as the cameras were turned off and the local news crew left after the team interviews. The answer from me was always no, so they’d stopped asking.

  “Our last weekend off in a while—what are you up to?” Heath sat on the bench beside me, staring at me like he was afraid I’d try to disappear into a puff of smoke in front of his eyes. If it were possible, I’d have learned that trick a long time ago.

  I shrugged. What did I do with any of my free time? Read, cook, visit my family, and avoid most other social interactions. There was also my personal favorite activity: staying out of trouble.

  “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Emmett waved and disappeared so fast I wouldn’t have been surprised if a plume of dust appeared behind him.

  “Avery’s got the day off, so I’m surprised he showed up for the game at all.” Heath chuckled and brushed his blond hair back off his face, then tied it up.

  Emmett had gotten traded back to Philly a year earlier and had finally gotten to move in with Avery. They’d gone from wanting to kill each other to head over heels in love in the course of a couple of months two summers back. Talk about whiplash of epic proportions.

  “She’s persuasive.” I slipped on my shoes. She’d probably told him if he did blow off the game, he wasn’t getting any.

  “Meaning she threatened him.” Heath grinned and snagged his shirt out of his bag beside him. “Kara and I are having everyone over tomorrow for dinner.”

  “And he’s cooking.” Declan slid in next to him and tugged on his shoes. Water dripped from his curly brown hair, dotting a pattern on his T-shirt. “Nice hair.” He smacked the blond knot on the top of Heath’s head.

  “Shut up.” Heath pushed him. “If you want chicken parm and garlic bread, you’d better leave my man bun alone.”

  Declan held up his hands in mock surrender and turned to me. “Ford, you’re coming, right?”

  Excuses about putting together my new furniture, painting my apartment, or exploring my neighborhood weren’t going to cut it anymore. I’d been moved in since the beginning of the season. Letting out a deep breath, I met his gaze. “I’ll be there.”

  “Hell yes.” Declan jumped up from the bench.

  “And you believe him? Remember the Halloween party?” Heath lifted his eyebrow, staring right at me. I ducked my head and zipped up my bag. “The one he bailed on because he had to take the cat to the vet?”

  “Emergencies happen.” I shrugged.

  “You don’t even have a cat.”

  It had been my neighbor’s cat. So sue me.

  “I need your word you’ll be there.” Declan held out his hand. “We miss you, man. The only time we see you is at practices and games.”

  Damn, I was letting the guys down. I grabbed his hand and changed up the hold, tugging him in for a hug. “I’ll be there. I promise.”

  “Oh, and Mak invited Liv, so you two can bond over your joint happiness at finally being Colm-free. He’s on the plane, right?”

  Those words hit me like a deer bolting in front of my car in the middle of the night.

  “At the airport.” The words came out automatically, but my mind had just been shot into the past. My mouth went dry, and my fingers tightened around the strap of my duffel. “He flies out in a couple hours.”

  My stomach knotted. If Liv was going to be there, I needed to stay far away. The kiss at Declan and Mak’s wedding a year and a half ago still kept me up some nights. She’d steered clear after that night, since she’d backed away like I’d plunged a dagger into her heart. That night she had decided to go on a date with my brother—not that I blamed her. I probably should have thanked her. Their date had hammered home the fact that she and I were never going to be anything more than what we were: Colm’s best friend, on a good day, and his sister.

  “Actually, I—”

  “Too late to back out now. You said yes. You promised you’d be there.” Heath joined Declan with the double stare down.

  I let out a deep breath and shook my head. The depths of how screwed I was hadn’t even been discovered by the scientists exploring the Mariana Trench. We gathered our stuff and headed out to the cars, signing a few autographs for some fans who had stuck around. The puck bunnies were out in full force. If I hadn’t already sworn them off a year and a half earlier, that old fallback routine to wind down after a game had just been blown out of the water. I’d be seeing Liv the next day.

  “We’ll see you at Heath’s, Ford,” Declan yelled as we went opposite ways in the parking lot. The sun skated along the horizon, doing absolutely nothing to warm anything.

  I waved and climbed into my black S-Class Mercedes. I’d retired my Honda Accord when I’d made the move to Philly. They’d had to special order a model without leather seats. I preferred the fabric, nothing sticking to your arms or legs when it was hot out. If the dealership hadn’t cut us a sweet deal, I’d have probably stuck to something less flashy, but I had to admit, it was a smooth ride.

  Blowing into my hands, I stared up at the stadium in front of me. How was it colder in there than outside? Sometimes it seemed like a dream I’d wake up from. I was living the pro hockey dream. In my head I was still the same screwed-up twelve-year-old with bruised knuckles, holding on to my guilt about my parents splitting up so tightly I wore it like a shield. The engine purred, and I cranked up the heat.

  The hamster wheel of my mind was in overdrive. Hours of my gears working out on the ice, keeping my eyes on everything, left me too unable to settle. My phone buzzed in my cupholder. I grabbed it and tapped the screen.

  Colm: Good game.

  Me: Two made it past me

  Colm: You can’t win by yourself. It’s not like it was all your fault.

  Me: You sure? Sometimes that doesn’t matter…

  He jumped right over that shit like the minefield it was. Even two years later he still wore that pain on his sleeve—at least to me. No one else saw it, but I did.

  Colm: Headed out to get some strange?

  Me: I gave that shit up

  Our friendship had become a poisoned pill, but I swallowed it because that was what I always did. I wanted to get back to how things used to be, before I’d screwed up his future.

  Colm: You act like I don’t know who you are.

  It didn’t deserve a response. He’d banged up his knee. He was probably still loopy on pain meds.

  Pulling out of the lot, I drove aimlessly. Philly was where I’d wanted to be, closer to my mom and little brother, and the rest of the Kings, too.

  After parking in the garage under my building, I jogged across the street to my version of Cheers, Fish’s Bar & Grill. I pushed through the doors, and Jack, the bartender, looked up, nodding his head. I took off toward my stool at the far end of the bar. Fish’s was a place where, even if they knew your name, they sure as hell didn’t shout it out loud.

  “Ford.” Jack slung a towel over his shoulder and leaned on the bar.

  “Jack.” I nodded at him. “I’ll h
ave the Forester 1920 and the usual.” I drummed my fingers along the nicked and dinged wood.

  He nodded. The old-school bar wasn’t flashy and it sure as hell didn’t serve any artisanal waters or tapas, but it kept me from drinking alone in my apartment. Although Jack had taken the place over from his dad, he seemed content to leave it just as it was, which was fine by me.

  My Netflix queue called to me from my apartment. I’d have to people for a solid few hours the next day, so I needed to save my energy reserves. I ran my fingers along my chin. How will I make it through tomorrow with Liv?

  The throwback decor of green glass lamps hanging over each table, wood paneling, and worn leather booths and stools kept the trendier crowds at bay. It also made it the perfect place for me. I might have been a shut-in, but I wasn’t going to turn into an alcoholic. I’d seen some guys go down that path before. Practices were only a couple of hours a day when we weren’t traveling for games, and that left a hell of a lot of time to mess yourself up.

  My phone rang on the bar. Colm.

  “Way to not respond to my text.”

  “Didn’t think it needed a response. Aren’t you getting on a plane soon?”

  “I am, but we need to talk.”

  Like when a woman said those words to me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  “What?”

  “Olive.”

  If I’d been wearing a button-down, I’d have tugged at my collar. I cleared my throat. “What about her?” I picked up my glass, trying to gulp down some of my drink past the tightness in my throat.

  “She’s being weird lately.” The concern in his voice bled through the coolness of his words.

  “Weird how?”

  “Not responding to my texts and calls. She’s ducked out of our family dinners at least three times. Since I’ve moved to Philly, she’s fallen off the face of the Earth.”

  “What do you think it is?” Was she seeing someone? In trouble of some kind?

  “No idea, but her grades are slipping.”

  “Slipping to what?”

  “She got three A minuses last semester.”

  I choked on my bourbon. “You think an A minus is tanking? Do you remember my grades in college?”

  “You had a lot of other recreational activities going on.” There was an edge to his voice that I’d gotten used to over the past couple years, and I fucking hated it. “You also weren’t trying to become a doctor. Listen, do me a favor…” He paused so long I checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.

  “What do you want me to do?” I leaned my elbow against the bar. He hadn’t come to me for a favor in a long time.

  “I wouldn’t be asking, but she’ll listen to you.”

  My fist tightened around the glass at the way he asked, like it was a last resort. Tension gnawed at my chest.

  He let out a deep sigh. “Talk to Olive. See if you can figure out what’s going on with her. She’s distracted. I asked Mak to find out, but she told me to ask Liv. Olive’s just so damn tight-lipped lately, and I need to know she’s okay, especially when I’m not there.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. You’re acting like she’s still a little kid.” He’d always treated her like she was the same scared twelve-year-old clutching his hand and standing beside the gravesite of their parents as her tears mixed with the rain.

  “She’s my baby sister. I love her more than anything. I need to know she’s not screwing up her future. She’s all I’ve got, man.”

  A lump formed in my throat. Colm didn’t trust me, not anymore. If he’d known the thoughts about Liv that were running through my head, he’d have punched my lights out—not that I didn’t deserve it and more.

  “She’s stronger than you think.” My appetite was gone. I motioned for Jack that I’d take my food to go.

  “But I don’t want her to have to be. Just please do this for me. I’ve got to call her before my flight. I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call before I could get in another word. The next day I’d see her, and Colm wanted me to drag information out of her. I was the last person she’d want to see, let alone open up to.

  Jack held out the bag for me at the bar, and I grabbed it, buttoned my coat, and headed outside.

  “Still looking for that Macallan,” he called out, wiping down the bar. I waved and the door slammed behind me.

  The elevator in my building dinged, and I got out at my floor. I had no idea who most of my neighbors were, cat lady aside. There were only three apartments on this floor anyway. It was nice and quiet, just how I liked it.

  The loft with exposed brick walls had been home for half a year, but it still felt like I was house-sitting. Even with only one bedroom, the twenty-foot ceilings and top-of-the-line finishes were a world away from how things had been for me growing up. I closed the door to my apartment.

  Some bottles rattled in my fridge, and Grant shot up straight, closing the stainless-steel door with a slice of cold pizza shoved in his mouth and holding two beers.

  “What are you doing here?” How the hell did he get in?

  “I thought you’d be celebrating after your game. What are you doing here?”

  “It’s only my apartment. I took your key after you brought that girl back here last semester. How’d you get in?”

  He bit off another chunk of pizza. “You didn’t take Mom’s key.” He grinned, cracking open his beer on the edge of my granite countertop.

  I slid my food onto the counter.

  “Fresh food.” He reached for the bag, and I punched his shoulder. He winced, and I smiled at the hollow thud.

  He glared at me and rubbed the spot. “What was that for?”

  “It’s bad enough that you break into my apartment and steal my leftovers—now you’re trying to steal my meal too?”

  “It’s not like you can’t get more. I’m sure they’d rush over here right away to get another order for the amazing hometown goalie.”

  “That could have been you.” I opened my food and took a plate out of the cabinet.

  “With your leftover pads and hand-me-down sticks? No thanks.” He snatched a fry off my plate.

  “How’s school?”

  “It’s school.” Leaning back against the counter, he gulped down his beer.

  “Slow down, man. It’s not water.”

  “Gee thanks, Dad.”

  I hated when he called me that, mainly because I hated that man, hated him for screwing over our family and making me the keeper of his shitty secrets.

  “Why are you over here if you’re in such a terrible mood? Shouldn’t you be making out with your girlfriend in the stacks at the library?”

  He picked at the label on the bottle. “We broke up.”

  I shook my head. “Another one? Seriously? What is that, like three this school year? You need to stop jerking these girls around.”

  “How do you know I’m not the one being jerked around?” He slammed down his beer, and foam shot out of the bottle, covering his hand.

  “Because I know you.” I sank my teeth into the juicy burger and closed my eyes, savoring the flavor. Damn good burger.

  “Maybe I just haven’t met the right girl yet. Speaking of which, do you know if Liv is dating anyone?” He spun around on the bar stool.

  My hackles rose. “We’re not doing that again.”

  “Doing what?” His big puppy-dog eyes weren’t fooling anyone.

  “This infatuation thing you’ve got for her. You’ve been chasing her since fourth grade. She’s not interested.” I stabbed my fry into some ketchup.

  “She said yes to a date after Declan’s wedding. We squeezed in two dates that summer before she had to get back to classes, and before that, we lived states apart for five years. You can’t count that.”

  “And you’ve been in the same city for two and a half years.”

  “At different schools.”

  “Colm would rip your spine out through your mouth.”

  “That’s why you need to put in a
good word for me.” He rested his elbows on the counter.

  I squeezed the back of my neck. “Some things even I can’t change his mind about.”

  “Just promise me the next time you see her, you’ll tell her I asked about her. See how school is going. That’s what killed it last time. She said if it weren’t for all her premed stuff, she’d definitely be up for dating me.”

  “She said that?” My skin tingled, and I wiped my palms on my jeans. It was hard enough knowing she’d gone out with him a couple times, but to hear that the only reason she’d stopped was because of classes…shit!

  He shrugged. “Well, she said we’d both be busy once the school year started and we should focus on our futures.”

  Now that sounded more like Liv.

  “The corpse of your last relationship isn’t even cold yet.”

  “There’s always that one person in the back of your mind.” He stared down at the counter, wiping up the spilled beer. I wanted to ram my fist down his throat, a totally irrational response. He and Liv were the same age. They’d been friends before she moved to Boston. He’d always liked her, which was yet another reason for me to get my shit together and not make tomorrow weird—well, any weirder than it was already going to be.

  “You can have my burger.” I pushed the plate toward him, my appetite fleeing like a burglar disappearing into the night.

  “Thanks.” He dropped the pizza slice, grabbed my plate, and went into the living room, turning on the TV. I grabbed a tumbler and poured myself a drink.

  In less than twelve hours I’d be in the same room with Liv for the first time since the wedding, and I needed to get her to spill her guts. If she wouldn’t talk, Colm would wonder what was up. With him only moving back to Philly a couple months earlier, he’d missed seeing that my interactions with Liv had been nonexistent. Things had been easier that way.

  Throw Grant and his infatuation into the mix and this recipe for disaster got even stickier. He’d talked about her nonstop that summer, about their two dates, their kiss. After there hadn’t been a third date, he’d moped for months.

  What the hell was I supposed to tell him? She was so far off-limits that thoughts of her didn’t even enter my head anymore, at least not while I was awake, and it needed to stay that way.