8. Grey

Grey

I missed her.

"Aldine, you stupid fuck, what the hell are you doing?" Coach skated toward me; his expression dark red with fury.

Embarrassed by the easy shot I missed because I wasn't focused on my job, I lowered my eyes.

"Sorry, Coach," I said, my tone low. "Too much on my mind, I guess."

"Get it off your mind, Aldine. We're in the fucking playoffs. I need everyone paying attention, got it? Including you. You don't get a free pass here, dumb fuck. Now let's get with the program."

He skated off, taking a moment to yell at Steve for some minor infraction, then signaled for practice to start again.

I forced Ellie from my thoughts.

Focusing, planning three moves ahead, I skated circles around my teammates, stole the puck from Jerry, passed it to Steve, who passed it back, and sliced the thing into the goal net. Our goalie, Eddie, wasn't quite fast enough to stop me.

He whooped and raised his stick in triumph. "Aldine, you piece of shit! Try that again."

I did.

My speed, my ability to keep the puck no matter what, had always made my team a winner. Outracing a Viper half my age, I stole the puck, spun, charged down rink. Eddie waited, watching, concentrating, and skated out to meet me.

I spun around him like a dancer, my stick propelling the puck, and slammed it into the net.

Eddie took his helmet off, grinning. "Man, how do you do that?"

"Just lucky."

"Lucky my ass. You do that against Toronto, and we're headed for the Cup."

He smacked my butt in team camaraderie as I collected the puck and skated past him. Others yelled affectionate insults, made as though to slam me into the guard, but slapped my ass or shoulders instead. Coach nodded in grim satisfaction and offered me a salute.

After the showers, we gathered in the team conference room, watching the videos of our session. Here, we learned what we did wrong, how to fix the problems. Watching myself spin like a figure skater around Eddie, I had to admit it was a dope move.

Dope.

That's what Ellie would've said. My body ached to have her in my arms again. I needed to see her smile, that goofy purple streak in her hair. It has been a week since I took her back to her apartment. A week of meetings, practice, working out on exercise machines. Of running on the treadmill for eight miles at a stretch.

A very long and lonely week.

"All right, that's it," Coach announced. "Get your beauty sleep, ladies, because tomorrow, I'll work your tits off."

Eddie slung his arm over my shoulders as we left the conference room. "You okay, bro? You're all down in the mouth again."

I raised a small smile. "I'm dope."

He laughed. "You sure are, man. Keep the faith, brother."

He veered left while I went right, striding from the rink and across the parking lot. The night air was cold enough to burn my throat as I breathed. I remembered that night in the motel room with Ellie when the power went out. How she freaked at first, then cuddled against me, soft and warm, after our second session of love making.

I wanted her again. Not as a fuck toy. I craved her company outside of sex…then sex, then more of her company. Since my divorce, none of my few lady "friends" made me crave their time outside of bed.

Ellie was different.

Morose, I drove home, wondering if I should call her. I wanted to give her space. Was she doing the same for me? She never called, didn't text. Did she not like me enough to call? Did she find another guy? The latter thought had me grinding my teeth.

I parked my car in my garage, clicked the automatic door to slide down, then grabbed my gym bag. From the garage, I stepped into the kitchen. I paused.

Colton sat at the kitchen island, eating a sandwich. He glanced up from the book he read and offered a smile with his mouth full.

After swallowing, he said, "Dad, hi. How was practice?"

I almost said dope. "It was good. Coach thinks we're headed for the Cup, maybe."

"That'd be awesome."

Since Ellie kicked him out, Colton had come to stay with me. I guess I didn't mind, he was my son. Thus far, a whole week, he'd performed his share of the household chores, did his own laundry, and worked at his job five days out of seven. I couldn't complain about his presence.

Colton and I screwed the same girl. Is that messed up or what?

At the cabinet, I took down a glass. "Want some wine?"

"No, thanks."

I poured chardonnay into the glass, put the bottle back, then sat opposite Colton. He'd set his book aside and pushed his plate away. By his slightly tense expression, he had something on his mind he wanted to talk about.

"Dad," he began slowly.

"Yeah?"

"I know I've been an asshole. To Ellie."

"I'd say you have."

He flushed. "Yeah, you know. I want to make it up to her."

"Why?"

"Why?" Colton blinked. "Isn't that the right thing to do?"

I shrugged. "From what I heard that day, she wants nothing to do with you."

"She doesn't." Colton sucked in a deep breath. "She won't return my calls, or texts."

"You dumped her for her friend, son," I said quietly. "You embarrassed her, shamed her in front of her friends. You told her you didn't care if you treated her badly."

His flush deepened. "She told you?"

"Yeah. And you think she wants to make kissy face with you again?"

Shunting his face to the side, his mouth turned down in a self-castigating frown. "No. I know she doesn't want to. I want her back. You know that old saying, ‘You don't know what you've got till it's gone'?"

I dared not look at him. "I've heard that a time or two."

I wanted to see Ellie perhaps as much as Colton does. Was I falling in love with her? Or was it my dick who wanted her in bed again? My confused emotions didn't help any.

We both want the same girl. Talk about messed up.

"That's me," Colton went on, his tone as morose as I felt. "I didn't realize how much she really meant to me until―"

"You got your dumb ass kicked to the curb."

He met my gaze. "Pretty much. I think I'd have realized it even if Lindy hadn't dumped me."

"So, you'd have thrown Lindy to the wolves just as you did Ellie, then demanded Ellie come crawling back?" I didn't bother to hide my disgust. "When will you learn you don't treat people that way?"

"Since I learned it from you, I guess I never will."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I met his sullen and defiant blue gaze. "I don't treat people like shit."

"It's your fault Mom left us," Colton snapped. " Yours . You were never home; your career came first. Remember? I do. She was always alone, and you didn't give a rat's ass for either of us."

I gripped my glass so tightly I felt it begin to crack under the pressure. Swallowing the wine down, I carefully set it on the table and maintained enough self-control not to throw it at him.

"Your mom wanted my success as much as I did," I said slowly, my voice a growl. "She wanted the money, the fame of being married to a hockey star. I broke my leg. Rumors started that I'd never play again. Your mom, in all her loving and supportive nature, chose to leave us both. I heard, years ago, she'd snagged an NFL quarterback."

"That's not what I remember."

"You were a fucking kid , Colton," I grated. "Your memories are distorted because you weren't old enough to understand a damn thing."

"So why didn't you tell me that's why she left?" Colton demanded.

"Would it have helped?" I glowered as I stood to get more wine. I spoke over my shoulder as I poured. "Would you think differently of her if you knew she was in it for fame and glory? Maybe I thought it might be better for you to believe I neglected her. Direct your anger at me instead of thinking she left because of you."

Colton flushed. "I admit I did think that for a long time."

"I know you did. When you got older, you blamed me. I let you. I could handle it, and I did handle it."

He stared at the table. "So, now I'm behaving just like she did. Dumping Ellie for my own selfish, stupid reasons."

"It's not too late to change," I murmured, my guilt at screwing Ellie when Colton still loved her wrenching my conscience into twists. "You can grow up, be a real man. Own up to your mistakes and make amends."

"That's hard when Ellie won't talk to me."

"It's her choice. Maybe you should respect it. Move on."

Colton shook his head. "I should, but I can't. I want her back so bad. I'm gonna keep trying to win her back."

My gut twisted into pretzel knots, churning the wine until I thought I'd hurl it into the kitchen sink. I had no idea what to say.

Good luck? I'm sure she'll love you again once you apologize? I didn't want him to succeed in winning Ellie back. Yet, how could I vie for her affections in competition with my own son? Christ, what a fucking mess.

"What will you do?" I finally asked.

Colton shrugged. "Get her to talk to me. Somehow."

I stared down at my wine. "Yeah."

"I still have a key to the apartment," Colton went on. "I could go over there, make her listen."

"That's breaking and entering," I said dryly. "You might get tossed in the slammer if Ellie decides to call the cops."

"Both of our names are on the lease," he replied, stubborn. "I've a right to be there."

"Nope, you don't. Not after you walked out."

"Ellie won't call the cops," he said. "All I want to do is talk."

"And hope she doesn't think you're there to slap her around."

He glared, indignant. "I'd never hurt her."

"You already have."

"Shit, Dad, you don't have a very high opinion of me, do you?"

"At the moment, no."

He ran his hands through the blond hair he'd inherited from his mom. "That's on me, I guess. It's time for me to do better."

I said nothing. What could I say? " Do better and win Ellie's heart "? I suddenly realized that would be best. I'm too old for Ellie. She's too young for me. I should stand back, let Colton earn her trust. Watch them grow in their love, have kids, and be happy for them.

After all, Ellie didn't need an old man like me in her life.

Walk away, dude. Leave it. Find a lady closer to your age, maybe find love for yourself one day.

"Where are you going?" Colton's confused voice trailed after me as I walked from the kitchen.

"Nowhere special."

Striding down the stairs and into my basement, I flicked on the overhead lights. My myriad of exercise equipment gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. Maybe if I ran ten miles on the treadmill, I might forget the feel of Ellie in my arms, sweating away the image of her sweet smile.

I changed into the sweatpants and shirt I kept down there.

And began to run.