Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Alex

"I hope you know how much you've done for the team. You came and did the job, and we're so thankful. But the Bears need you for their play-off run, so we're going to send you back down."

I keep trying not to let the negative part of my brain take over. I knew that I was coming to fill a spot until the starter was able to come back. I stayed until the season was over, and being sent down isn't anything on me. I did my job. My stats are stellar, and…fuck, this sucks.

I'm trash.

I suck.

Ugh.

"We know the Bears will go far with you in goal, and we hope to see you at training camp," Elli Adler, the owner of the Assassins, says softly. She is more about family than her daughter. Shelli Adler-Brooks sits beside her mother, a younger version of the team owner but more stoic. She's all business, and it's easy to see that.

I nod slowly and then stand. "I thank you all for this opportunity and hope to come back next season."

"Us too," Elli says, pulling me into a tight hug. "You're always welcome to come to the house for dinner this summer. I'm just a call away."

Just when I thought I'd have no reason to smile, given my failure, I find myself doing just that. I hug her a bit tighter, thankful for her support and kindness. I shake hands with Shelli and Coach Moore before heading out of the office and to the locker room to collect my things. Thankfully, no one is in here, because I don't want to talk to anyone or have them feel sorry for me. I feel sorry enough for myself. Maybe if I hadn't let in the goals I did, they'd want me for the long-term. Maybe then, I'd have a contract.

Feeling like a dud, I grab my gear and my sticks before heading out to the silver BMW I bought myself as a gift for getting called up. It's only a two-seater, so it's a pain in the ass getting my gear in, and I'm unsure how I'm going to get my stuff back to Knoxville. As I use my ass to shut the passenger door, my phone rings. I glance at the screen to see it's Ciaran.

"What happened?" he asks once I answer.

"I got sent back down to the Bears. I'm about to come to the house and pack then figure out how to get my shit back. I gotta head out tonight, though. We have morning skate tomorrow."

"Fuck, dude. That blows."

"It is what it is," I say with a shrug. "I'll work hard this summer and show out for training camp."

"Hell yeah, you will," he says in agreement. "Since your car is smaller than a nun's asshole, want Lou and me to drive your things back?"

I would laugh at his joke, but I'm not in the laughing mood. "No, I don't want you going out of your way?—"

"It's fine. We're driving back tomorrow since my season is over." His statement is full of such remorse and sadness. I feel for him. No player wants their season to end. We all want the Cup. We have all dreamed of hoisting that sucker over our heads since we were boys. I know, for me, I used the laundry basket a lot and never let my brothers do it. They were losers; I am the winner.

Or so I thought.

"She's got things to do at the shop, and we want to spend the summer where we fell in love."

Gag.

Ignoring my sudden rush of nausea, I say, "Oh. Then yes, please. I would appreciate it greatly."

"Anytime, bro. See you at the house."

After saying bye, I get in the car, and I'm basically plastered to the window as I drive. I wonder if Louisa would let me take her car back to Knoxville, and she could drive my car since there is no way in hell I can drive like this for four hours. I know she will. She's a sweet girl. I am so thankful for Louisa and Ciaran. They've been really good to me. Since I arrived in Nashville, they've allowed me to stay in their guest house. It's been nice, especially since they have a heated pool and I got to use it through the winter and spring months to soothe my achy muscles. It's been super helpful, but now I'm heading back to Blitz.

A failure.

I dial my mom since I'm giving myself about twenty more minutes of self-pity, and she'll coddle me without anyone knowing. I am okay with the fact that I'm a momma's boy, because I don't feel like I'm a sick, pathetic one. I'm a man, but I love my momma.

When she answers, it's with a happy-sounding Hola , but mine is nothing of the sort.

In Spanish, she asks, "What is wrong with my fat boy?"

She's called me her gordo since I was a baby. Apparently I can grow and lose my baby fat, but I can't grow out of her nickname for me.

"I got sent back down to the Bears," I reply in our native tongue. "Not happy about it."

"Oh, they're stupid to do that to my fat boy. It's okay. You go and play and win."

"That's the plan, Ma."

"And then you come see me when you're done."

I chuckle. "I know, Ma."

"Have you found my new daughter yet?"

I roll my eyes. My mom's obsession with my finding a wife is getting annoying. It's all my brothers' fault, all three of them finding love and getting married within the last three years. Now, there is only me, and Mom wants me to have a wife.

"If you had one, you wouldn't be so sad about not playing for the Assassins. You'd be like, who cares. I've got a wife."

I snort at that. "I don't know if there is a woman out there I'll ever love more than hockey, Ma."

She makes a sound of pure disgust. "Alejandro, then they are not the woman for you."

Warmth fills me head to toe, knowing she is absolutely right. My mom is my everything, and her love for me is always shining, no matter the distance between us. She is my biggest fan, and I love her for it. I just wish she'd lay off the wife shit since all I can do is think of her in a wedding dress walking down the aisle to me to start the rest of our lives.

Even knowing I'm a dumb fuck for thinking that, I can't help but grin as I turn onto the road to Ciaran's home.

"And don't be sad over being sent back down. It isn't your time to shine yet. You obviously have some work to do, but the good thing is, you are strong enough to be sent down. Some would let it ruin them, but not my fat boy. No. You'll thrive and show them. Everyone else gets to play golf, but my fat boy gets to keep playing hockey. Be happy you can still play and can still grow."

My mom is the best. She reminds me a lot of Elli Adler, which is probably why I love Elli so much. My mom's words and love are what I need, and I appreciate her take on this. It's time for my pity act to end. I get the chance to help the Bears win the Cup. We missed it last year by one round, but not this year. This year is our year, because I want to prove to the Assassins' organization that they need me. That I am valuable, and I can show up when I'm asked to. I want the whole hockey organization to see that. This is my time to shine. I won't let anything distract me.

Not even the girl I want more than I want to be between the two pipes.

The one my mom would say is it for me.