Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Bash

Everything is going so well that by our next away game, I'm almost certain I've convinced her to give us a shot.

Our game in Columbus is one of my best of the season. The whole team is in sync, anticipating each other's moves. The Comets don't stand a chance.

As we celebrate our win in the locker room, high-fiving and running through our best plays, it occurs to me that every game could be like this. Sage is my lucky charm. My good omen.

It's time to have that conversation I've been putting off.

When I FaceTime her that night, I skip right to the point. "Sage, when we win the Stanley Cup, I'd like you to be there."

I'm hoping for a rousing hell yeah or yeehaw or even a darn tootin'. Heck, I'd settle for an if you insist.

Sage's flat expression is a kick in the teeth. "We'll see, Bash."

"That sounds like a no. Is something wrong?"

Did I do something wrong? I thought after our night together in my backyard under the stars, something shifted between us. A connection was born that can't be severed. But what if she was just trying to say goodbye?

"I don't know." She fiddles with the end of her braid. "I've been feeling out of sorts lately. I've never been away from home this long before. My mom is there alone, and a ranch is a lot of work, even with ranch hands."

"You can always talk to me, Sage. I want you to feel at home. Is there anything I can do to help make you feel more comfortable?"

"Aw, you're sweet." The worry lines on her face smooth over with her smile. "I appreciate that, Bash. I'll let you know. When are you coming back again?"

"Three more days." I hate that I can't be there for her when her mood is low, and I'm afraid of what it means for us. She's going to go deep within her decision to leave, and I'm not going to be there to counter it.

"Three days. Okay." I hope that means she'll wait at least that long, but her tone makes me nervous. I hope she can wait for one more game.

I hope that when she says, "Bye, Bash," before hanging up, she doesn't mean for good.

* * *

On the flight the next morning, the guys are amped. We have a PR event tonight and another game tomorrow, and I should be bouncing off the walls of the plane with anticipation. Each winning game puts us that much closer to our ultimate goal, and we're all convinced that this is going to be our year. We're playing together like a well-oiled machine—every pass, check, breakaway, steal, and blocked shot in perfect sync—and no other team can beat us when we play like that.

All I can think about is the defeated note in Sage's voice and how I'm afraid that she won't wait for me. And even if she does… then what? How do I show her what's in my heart?

While Julie lectures Latham and Briggs about what not to say during the event tonight—we all know that they're the ones most likely to run their mouths with something cancelable that will get Dante's tighty-whities in a wad—I pull out my phone and connect to the plane's Wi-Fi. I want to see Sage's face. I want proof that we'll be okay.

"Watching your girlfriend's livestream?" Noah teases. He elbows me in the ribs and cranes his neck. "What's she up to today?"

I elbow him right back. "She's at Home Depot, picking up supplies for your project. You know, the one she's doing to pick up your slack? The one that's going to get you laid without lifting a finger."

"Brutal," Coop chuckles.

"Besides, she's not my girlfriend." I focus on the screen, where Sage compares paint swatches for the camera. I have the sound turned all the way down, but it's nice to see her looking so happy. Maybe I do have time.

Until she spots something off-camera, and she goes pale.

"Whoa, what's happening?" Noah squeezes closer to get a good look.

On my other side, Cooper is practically climbing me. He jiggles my arm. "Turn it up."

I raise the volume on my phone just as a guy walks into the view of the camera.

"—finally caught up with you, baby," he coos. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" He reaches out and takes…

Sage's.

Hand.

My woman.

My love.

Mine!

"Who the fuck is this?" I growl through gritted teeth. "You don't know her, buddy. Get your paws off her!"

I expect Sage to give him a piece of her mind, but she doesn't say a word. She doesn't even pull back from him.

"T-Trevor?" she stammers. "What are you doing here?"

"Sugarplum," he says, "we need to talk."

Sugarplum? My hand holding the phone starts to shake.

"Huh." Noah leans closer to the screen. "That's Trevor?"

Sage's hand fumbles with the camera, and the live ends abruptly. After a few seconds, I'm booted to another suggested livestream, which includes two sportscasters speculating about our chances this season.

I have never been less invested in the trajectory of my own career. I turn my phone screen off and look to Noah for answers. "Who's Trevor, and how do you know about him?"

Now that there's no recording to watch, Noah shies away from me. He won't meet my eyes. "Shouldn't have said anything. Sorry."

"Noah." I resist the urge to shake him, but only barely. "Who was that guy? If you don't spill it right fucking now, I swear to God…"

"Yeah, Noah," Coop urges. "Tell us what you know. This is urgent."

Noah bobs his head from side to side. "I'm pretty sure that was her fiancé."

"Sage is engaged?" I want to scream, but my voice comes out a whisper. My throat closes up.

"Not like that. They broke up. It's why she came to Vegas in the first place." Noah arches an eyebrow. "Seriously, how do you not know this? Don't you talk to each other? Besides, you have access to all her socials and everything!"

"I was giving her space!" I want to throw my phone on the floor and stomp on it. "I don't cyberstalk the woman I care about!" I want to teleport back to Vegas and launch Trevor straight into the sun. I want to ask Sage what I mean to her.

"How do you know?" Coop counters.

"She told Molly," Noah explains.

"And Molly told you?" Coop wrinkles his nose.

"No, but… I kinda overheard them talking about it one day. I think they got so used to working on projects while we're away they sometimes forget when I am home." Noah looks guilty enough that I unclench my fists.

"So, Bash was the rebound guy? Oof. That's rough, buddy." Coop pats my shoulder. "That totally changes things."

It can't fucking change things!

"Nah, it's more complicated than that. From what I can make out, Trevor was going to help her save the family horse farm. They weren't in love. She caught him cheating, and it wounded her pride, not her heart. Oh, and the cheating part? He was dumb enough to do it with one of her long-time rodeo rivals. She caught all that on camera." Noah prods me with one finger. "So, I know it's not made up."

My shoulders droop, and I swallow past a lump in my throat. So that's who the guy in Sage's social media photos was. "My sweet, sweet Sage. Why would any man who knows her heart ever do anything like that to her?"

Coop rubs my shoulder. "Look at it this way, if he hadn't been such a dick, you never would've met."

I manage a weak smile. "Thank you for being a dick, Trevor."

He snorts. "That's the spirit."

"Should I message her?" I ask.

Both Coop and Noah shake their heads.

"No way," Noah says. "She's probably still talking to him right now. Message her later when she won't be as keyed up. Having your creepy ex follow you to another state and then surprise you in a hardware store is… yikes."

"Big yikes," Coop agrees. "Wait until she's had time to process whatever's going on. If you can't be there to help her, the least you can do is respect that she's got a lot going on right now."

Noah already has his phone out. "I'm going to message Molly. Let her know that Sage might need someone to check in on her later."

"Thank you both." I start to put away my phone, then think better of it. I understand what the guys are saying about giving her space, so I won't ask Sage any questions or put her on the spot. I'll just let her know that I'm here for her.

I type out a quick message and hit send: I miss you .

There. That should be fine. I stow my phone away and tune back into Julie's ongoing conversation with Briggs and Latham. Latham has his arms crossed, looking surly. They're arguing about something.

I wait for my phone to buzz with Sage's response. But it never does.

* * *

"Did you drink, like, three espressos when I wasn't looking?" Anders hisses. "Because you're wired tonight, and I don't know what's going on."

"Nerves." He's right. My leg is jiggling so intensely that it's making the silverware on top of the table rattle.

Anders's annoyance softens. "Yeah, you'll probably feel like that until… well, until this is finished, one way or the other." I can tell from the way he dances around the topic that he doesn't want to jinx our big win. "I remember how it was last time, the year we won." His eyes glaze over slightly.

Ah, the Stanley Cup. The perfect cover for all my twitchy anxiety. Sage still hasn't texted me back, and I'm not sure I can go forty-eight hours without seeing her.

Right now, we're supposed to be schmoozing with the press and a few lucky fans. Even on a good day, this isn't my favorite type of activity—I love hockey, but I don't love trying to market myself as a product—but tonight, my heart truly isn't in it.

When everyone else is distracted, I pull out my phone and hold it under the table, like we're in high school, and I don't want the teacher to send me to detention. Sage has a live going right now.

I promise myself that I'm just going to check on her real quick and navigate to her feed. See for myself that she's okay after what happened. Whatever it was.

Noah appears over my shoulder, and I flinch so badly that I almost drop my phone. He leans on the back of my chair and speaks in a low voice so that we don't attract attention. "No need to worry. She's with Molly. Molly makes everything better."

I shake my head. "No, she's still upset. See that crinkle in between her eyes? She does that when she worries. And look at her hand. She's got a white-knuckle grip on that book. Molly sees it, too."

They're loading up the shelves, and my low-grade anxiety that's been bubbling in my belly since last night abruptly spikes. When this project is done, what's going to happen?

I wish I knew what Trevor said to her today. I desperately need to talk to her.

Anders swings back to me. When he sees me messing around on my phone, his brow furrows. "Bash, buddy, I don't know what's going on, but I need you to focus. This is a big deal, okay? Keep your head in the game."

Noah ducks his head sheepishly, and I remember somewhat belatedly how much this season means to them, even more than the rest of us. This might be their only chance to repeat a Cup win before they retire. "Right. Sorry." I put my phone on mute and tuck it into the pocket of my trousers, where the weight of it burns hot against my thigh. Call her. Call her . My fingers itch to do exactly that.

But I have no idea what to say to her, and this event will be over in a few hours. We'll be home soon. Besides, if I'm going to focus on one struggle, it should be the one where I actually stand a chance of coming out on top.