13. Harrison

13

HARRISON

In front of Bergan’s building, I park and pull out her bag. Before I can ask if I can take her out to dinner or see her tomorrow, she grabs her bag and without a smile, a hug, or a kiss, she says, “Bye Harrison.” With a quick spin, she turns and walks away.

I don’t even get called Harry? No kiss? Nothing?

She’s inside her building and a car honks behind me for double parking, pulling me from a cloud of confusion. I can’t run in after her. I hop in my truck and leave, trying to figure out what happened.

The next few days have been torture. I’ve been working hard at practice, making sure I don’t fuck things up there, too. The next game needs to go off without a hitch. It also helps that it makes for a great way to get out my aggression. I’ve been texting and calling Bergan between practice and press events, but she hasn’t responded even once in the three days and she hasn’t been in the stadium to watch our practices.

I crack my neck as I work the tense muscles. What the hell happened? Everything was better than great and then it’s like a relationship bomb blew up in my face.

We were so good together. She convinced me I wanted to stay. I saw the beauty of Colorado through her eyes. I saw her beauty more profoundly than just from my initial physical attraction.

I tighten the laces on my skates a little rougher than normal. I’m surprised I didn’t snap them in half.

Sure, she told me we wouldn’t be together, but after the connection we had…

I would’ve been crazy not to think that it couldn’t happen.

We are a rare connection that I doubt many people get to experience. I didn’t believe her because I never could have walked away from her.

Guess she’s a woman of her word because she didn’t lie. Which I’m even more disgusted with because it makes me only admire her even more.

I lean back and hit my head against the metal cubby of my station in the locker room.

Alexie throws some items into his as he sits down and ties up his skates. “Did you see today’s Denver Daily?”

“I don’t read,” I say with the heartsickness I’m feeling.

“You can’t read?”

I smack him over the head. “No numbnuts! I just don’t like reading the paper. There’s too much bad news out there.”

Alexie narrows his gaze and shoves the paper against my chest. “Well, dickwat, tis good news and you should read the sports section.” His Russian accent gets even thicker when he’s pissed, and I take notice.

I grab the paper before it falls to the ground and open it to the sports section. My eyes immediately land on the headline at the top of the page: Harrison Briggs’ Big Heart Matches Big Game.

Bergans’ name is listed in the byline and my breath speeds up as I read through her thoughts about me. She discusses the fundraising I do and how much she admires me for what I do for others. The words are factual and nothing flowery, a true genuine human relations piece. She explains how I’m not the person the tabloids and gossip rags make me out to be and how I spent the last weekend at an auction when I could’ve been doing exactly what everybody gossips about.

“Briggs is constantly working at raising funds for the less fortunate, even for the ones close to his heart. Childhood cancer is a passion project that he takes seriously and wishes for more people to do what they can to help the families involved. This reporter witnessed him first hand take action to make sure this special cause stays in the forefront of people's minds.”

I read the article slowly to make sure I don’t miss anything and after her sudden departure I didn’t know what to expect from her, but it certainly isn’t this. I want to feel touched and seen but I only feel… more fucking confused!

“Seems you have made a fan in Ms. Rosten, eh?” Alexie smirks and lifts a brow toward me, wiggling them back and forth.

I don’t pay him any attention. I’m annoyed by his insinuation and work not to throttle him. Everyone is always in everyone’s business around here. And whose business is it if we are or are not together? No one’s. Bergan’s a hard-working person and she deserves all the good things she’s accomplished, and more.

Wanting to set the record straight, I stand up and whistle loudly.

“Attention everyone!” I shout when there’s murmuring still going on. The room quiets and all heads turn toward me.

“I want to set the record straight. Bergan Rosten is a hard-working journalist. She doesn’t take her job lightly. She’s talented. She’s kind. And she’s… well, she was… never mind. Anyway, if I hear anyone saying shit about her, I will break my promise to Coach and go apeshit on your ass. So don’t fuck with me.” I glare at every person in the room, making sure they know I’m serious.

Alexie starts a slow clap and the guys roll their eyes and turn back to their lockers.

Alexie shrugs. “Vhat? I thought it was a slow-clap worthy speech.”

Shaking my head, I grab my phone and text Bergan.

Harrison: I saw the article. Thank you. I wish I knew what happened between us. Please, let’s talk.

Quickly, she reads it. My heart palpitates and the three magical dots appear, and I watch them dance along my screen, anticipating her response.

Bergan: You’re welcome. It was all true and I’m glad to show everyone the real you. I wish you the best of luck at tonight’s game and I hope Millie is everything you ever wanted, but I can’t be your something on the side. You helped me see that I want to be everything to someone. That’s my new line.

Millie? Something on the side? What the fuck?

I think over our weekend together, and a pattern emerges where Bergan kept popping up at the end of conversations where I always say I love you to my little sister or my stepmom. We’re a close family, especially after Millie’s scare. We never leave a conversation without saying it. Even if we’re angry, we know it’s more important.

I type furiously.

Harrison: Millie is my little sister. She’s why my phone’s always charged so I can talk to her. Family means everything to me. Like you do.

I glance at the screen, wishing for the dots, but there’s nothing. Not even the normal “read” receipt that happens.

“You ready?” Alexie claps me on the back.

Shit.

I put my phone back in the locker. This will have to wait, the ice calls. “Let’s do this.”

Bergan

I’m sitting in an aisle seat about three rows from the glass in the arena as it fills in quickly before the buzzer goes off. It’s the first home game since we’ve been back from Storm Canyon. The first time I’ll see him again in person.

As soon as the article published, potential headhunters, hockey teams, and news outlets blow up my phone. It’s been crazy. Not as crazy as Harrison’s life is going to get. I hear that the Los Angeles Super Sunsets are looking at a trade, but that’s insider info because I’m privy to that now, apparently.

But it felt good to tell him what I’m worthy of in that text. I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m okay being alone, even if that’s not what I thought might happen with him.

My phone dies before I can see his response to my text. Typical.

Damn. I have to get this phone replaced! First thing in the morning. I can’t risk missing a call.

I giggle. I sound like him. Not a bad thing.

I plug it into the battery pack in my purse. I bought one when my phone started blowing up after the article.

But being a dedicated sports journalist, I have to watch the game. No matter how much I try to lie to myself, I’m watching for Harrison and cheering for him.

The game is going well, but Harrison’s not fully in it. He spends more time looking into the crowds than focusing on the puck and I want to yell at him to get his head in the game, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s looking for me.

The buzzer sounds to end the second period. My phone’s charged enough from the battery pack in my purse. I turn it on and tap on his name.

Harrison: Millie is my little sister. She’s why my phone’s always charged so I can talk to her. Family means everything to me. Like you do.

The words have me frozen. I repeatedly read the words over as my heart drops into my gut.

Sister? Millie’s his sister. And I mean everything to him?

Bubbles hit along the bottom of my screen as I see Harrison typing up a message from the locker room and I’m nervous about what he’s going to say next.

Harrison: I love you, Bergan. I love no other woman and I will never love any other woman. You’re the one for me. My goal is to love you forever.

I’m choked up and think back to the very first time I met Harrison. All the looks and the sweet gestures, and how I’ve never felt so warm and safe with anybody before.

Was I dismissing every good and loving feeling to protect my icy, etched heart when Harrison this whole time has been filling in the cracks and putting me back together?

I pull out my pen and my pad, but that note he wrote in the bar is in my pocket and I smile as I grab it and write a brief note on the other side. I hope it will be enough.

With my press badge on, I head toward the locker room when I’m stopped by a big burly guy who towers over the crowd. “No one gets in.”

“But…”

“Look, miss, no one gets in. Not even press.”

I sigh and then perk up when Alexie walks by.

“Alexie! Can you get this not to Harry?”

Alexie glances at me and tips his head as he reaches for the note. “Who is dis Harry?”

Oops. Harrison is not going to like this.

“Harrison. Harrison Briggs.”

Alexie bursts out laughing. Oh shit. Harry is going to be angry.

“Harry?! Bwahahaha. I shall call him dat. But yes, I can get it to him, m’lady.” The big lug even bows and winks before he saunters off.

Yes, the big oaf actually saunters off whistling a song… a diabolical tune no doubt.

“Thank you,” I shout out after him.

Fingers crossed, I didn’t screw this all up.