Chapter Eleven

"W hat did you just say?" I ask, my voice shaky.

He rubs his head before turning back to me, determination in his eyes.

"Kellan has been icing you for years, Grace. You just haven't seen it. He's been tossing the puck down the rink with no one there to catch it because he knows he needed time to get his shit together. The problem is he's tossed you down there one too many times, and now there's a new player on the ice ready to grab the puck and do something with it. Now he's fighting for it back. The question is, do you want him to have it back?"

He's right. I've been iced by Kellan for years. I think somewhere in the back of my head, I knew it, but I didn't want to see it.

"I'm sorry if that upsets you, but I can't sit here and lie to you. I get why you didn't see it. When you are in a situation, you can't see what's going on around you clearly, but I see it. I bet others have too. Kellan might love you, but I don't think he is actually in love with you. If he was, he wouldn't be able to stand not being with you. He would want to be by your side all the time. There is no chance in hell I would have gotten as close as I have with you."

While I hate that he compared me to a puck, even I can admit that he's right. Peyton has been saying it all along, I just didn't see it until I took a step back.

"I'm not mad, Clayton. You're right. I never thought of it like that, but that's exactly what he's been doing. I can't believe I didn't see it before. I feel like such an idiot."

Clayton moves in, cupping my cheeks. "Don't. Don't do that to yourself. You had no one else back then. You do now. You have me. Peyton too. Hell, even the guys in there are your friends. Trust me, I bet you get invited to their weekly poker night."

I laugh. "Let me guess, you don't go."

He raises a brow as the corner of his mouth twitches. "You know I don't. I have too much on my plate."

My own hands come up, cupping his face. We probably look weird, each standing here holding each other's faces.

"You need to be easier on yourself. I know that you want to do what you can for your family, but do you know what your mom said to me at the game?"

"What?" he asks immediately.

"She said that she's so proud that her boy is going to graduate with a degree in business and have a hockey career. She said that she was glad she raised such a smart boy who prioritized school up there with hockey. You are so dead set on declaring next summer that you can't even see that your mom doesn't even want that. If you took a step back and actually talked to her rather than assuming this is what she wants for you, then you would know that."

He shakes his head. "I know it's not what she wants, but if I declare and get a signing bonus, I can make things easier on them."

"I know that. I know you want that, but one year isn't going to make that big of a difference."

"It could make a lot of difference. If I get injured, it could ruin any chance I have."

"True, but you will have your degree. Do you think that you will have time to finish your degree while playing in the PHL? Do you know how many games they play a year? Eighty-six games over twenty-one weeks. That's in the regular season. That doesn't count the practices, the weight training, and the preseason games. If you keep going the way you are, before you know it, half your life will be gone. You will be retired from hockey, and you will have nothing left to show for it. No degree to fall back on. No one there except your mom and sister. Is that what you want? Is that the life you want?"

He frowns. "I don't know, Grace. I don't know what I want. All I know is that my mother gave up everything for me to be here, and I will do everything I can to give it all back to her."

"That's not your job. Your job is to live your best life. I bet if you asked her, she would say the same thing."

He drops his head, dislodging my hands from his face. Then he hugs me closer to him until his head is on my shoulder.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." he admits softly.

"I'm sorry. You're right. It's none of my business."

He holds me closer. "It is your business. You're my friend. I just don't like the way it's making me feel right now. We had a good afternoon. I don't want to end it on a bad note."

"Okay, but just do me a favor and think about all the fun we could have next year with Cora here at school with us."

His lip twitches. "That sounds terrible."

"No, it doesn't."

He takes a deep breath. "Okay, we will pick this up later. Do you want to talk about Kellan more?"

"No. I think I'm going to leave it alone until he makes the effort. Hopefully we can repair our friendship."

"Okay."

"We should go back inside."

He nods against me but doesn't let me go, so I hold him tighter. For several minutes, we stand like that. When he finally pulls back, he gives me a smile.

"Before you, I only ever hugged my mom or sister. I don't know why, but hugging you is like hugging sunshine. It makes me feel lighter."

I laugh as I try to push down the butterflies that take off in my stomach. "Hugs will do that to you. It releases serotonin in your system, making you feel better. Any sort of touch or affection does."

He nods. "I never thought about my own love language, but I would bet mine is touch as well. At least, my experience with you makes me think it must be."

My breath catches at his statement. He learned that about himself because of being with me?

He grabs my hand, pulling me with him. "Come on. If we don't hurry, those assholes will eat all of the pizza."

I let him pull me inside to the table. The guys left us two seats next to each other.

I expect them to tease us for disappearing. Maybe make inappropriate jokes, but they don't. Instead, they praise me for my shooting before inviting me to poker night, which only makes me laugh as I look at Clayton, and gives me this "told you so" look.

Before I know it, all of the stress from before melts away as I enjoy the afternoon with my new friends.

I couldn't ask for anything more.