Off Season (Off #6) (9 page)

“Well, hello
to you too, you hot Irish lassie,” he says with a grin,
completely disregarding what I just said.

I stomp around the
couch and glare down at him, hands on my hips. “Don’t
evade. I overheard you, and you are not leaving to come to Europe. I
won’t allow it.”

Linc snickers behind
me, and Zane shoots him a wink. Grinning up at me, his hands shoot
out and grasp my hips, pulling me down swiftly on to his lap. “You’re
so cute when you’re angry and indignant,” Zane quips as
he pushes his face into my neck to nip at me.

My hands come up to
his shoulders, and I push at him until he leans back to look at me.
“I’m serious, Zane. Please tell me you are not actually
considering this.”

The carefree grin on
his face slides a little, replaced with a guilty look. “Just
tossing the idea around with Linc. Don’t get your panties in a
bunch. Besides, I couldn’t do it right away. Maybe next year if
things keep on between us the way I think they will.”

I push up out of his
lap, swatting at his hand that tries to pull me back. “No, no,
no,
no
,” I say, punctuating it with a stomp of my foot
on the thick carpeting. “End of discussion. You’re not
leaving the NHL.”

The remainder of the
smile Zane was sporting slides off his face, and a dangerous glint
sparkles back at me. “I’ll do whatever I want… and
what I think is best for us,” Zane growls at me.

I snort…loud…
and toss my head back, looking down at him with condescension.
“Puh-leeze. You’ve known me for what… five
minutes, and you’re ready to give up your career for me? You’re
a daft man, Zane. I won’t allow it and, if you insist on it,
I’ll just have to break up with you.”

Lips drawn downward,
eyes suddenly devoid of any luster, Zane stares back at me with
impassivity. I just hurt him… I know, and in this one brief
moment of startling clarity, I understand something that maybe I had
suspected all along.

I fucking love this
man.

I may not have spent
a lot of time with him physically, but I know him, and know him well.
He has provided everything I could ever want in a lover and a friend,
and hell… a potential life mate.

But it is because I
love him that I can’t let him do this.

Softening my voice,
I lean over and place my hands on his face, completely uncaring that
Linc is watching this little drama unfold. “I can’t let
you give that up for me, Zane. We’ll find another way, okay?”

His green eyes
pierce into me… flicking back and forth between my own,
digesting what I’ve said so far. His voice is tense… a
little aloof when he nods. “Sure. We can talk about this
later.”

Leaning forward, he
gives me a small kiss and then pulls away to sit back on the couch.

I’ve been
dismissed.

“Um…
Ever wants to know how much longer until you’re ready to eat?”

Zane doesn’t
look back at me but stares blankly at the TV. Linc gives a slight
cough, and my head turns his way. His eyes are empathetic…
conveying he understands what I just said, and maybe even a little
thankful I won’t let Zane do something so crazy.

“The game
should be over in about twenty minutes,” Linc says.

“Okay…
we’ll go throw the steaks on the grill then,” I mutter.
Giving another glance at Zane, who now appears to be transfixed by
the game on TV, I turn and walk back to the kitchen.

My head is still
spinning when I make it back to the kitchen, and I plop down on one
of the stools at the island. I grab another mushroom and distractedly
pop it into my mouth. I didn’t like the way Zane was looking
when I left just now.

“How much
longer will they be?” Ever asks.

I raise my gaze up
to hers and blink stupidly. “What?”

“When will the
game be done so I know when to throw the steaks on the grill?”

“Oh…
twenty minutes,” I say in a quiet voice, looking back down at
the salad bowl.

“What’s
wrong?” she asks. Because of the worried nature of her tone, I
glance back up at her.

With a sigh, I grab
one more mushroom but just hold it thoughtfully in my fingers. “I
just overheard Zane and Linc talking about Zane leaving the NHL and
playing in a European league.”

“Oh, that’s
so romantic,” Ever says with a mushy grin on her face. “It’s
amazing the connection you two have, and that would certainly solve
the long-distance problem.”

“What? You
can’t seriously think that’s a good idea,” I say in
astonishment.

Ever looks at me
warily. “Well, sure. Why not?”

“Because he
can’t give up a professional hockey career for me. That’s
just crazy.”

“Why is that
crazy?” Ever asks as she layers diced cucumber on top of the
salad.

“Because we
hardly know each other. This is only the second time we’ve even
seen each other. You don’t give up your career for someone you
just met.”

“But you
didn’t just meet,” Ever points out as she brandishes her
knife at me. “You’ve known each other for months, have
talked continuously from the way I understand it. Hell, the two of
you practically finish each other’s sentences, so don’t
give me shit about hardly knowing each other. Sounds to me like
you’re just afraid of the commitment.”

“No,” I
deny immediately. “I’m not afraid of committing to Zane.
I’d kill to be able to have something more permanent with him,
but I can’t allow that to happen at the expense of his career.
It’s too important.”

“Then maybe
you need to think about moving here,” Ever quips. “That
would be another solution.”

I stare at her
skeptically, because she makes it sound so easy. True… I don’t
have the type of career Zane does. Hell, I don’t have a career
at all, just a general idea of what I think I want to do with my
life.

But I am immersed in
a studies program that is important to me. It’s what I have to
complete in order to move on to that next stage of my life, where I
can build a career for myself. I can’t give that up the way
Zane can’t give up hockey.

Which brings us back
to the start.

I’m looking at
having a long-distance relationship with the man of my dreams, and it
just really sucks.

Zane

Living out of hotels
while playing on the road sucks. I drop my duffle on the floor and
immediately start disrobing, eager to try to grab a few hours of
sleep before the team’s plane leaves in the morning. Tonight’s
game against the Blackhawks also sucked, and we went down bad…
6-2.

I managed to score a
goal and get an assist, but it was just one of those nights that, as
a team, we couldn’t bring it all together.

My clothes lay
scattered on the floor. Clad only in my boxer briefs, I pull the
covers back on the bed and grab my laptop from the nightstand. I want
to check to see if Cady emailed before I go to sleep, which I know is
sure to put a smile on my face.

She couldn’t
watch the game live because while our evening games are in progress,
Cady is always tucked in bed sound asleep due to the time difference.
She’s really only able to watch when we play afternoon games,
and those don’t happen nearly as often as she would like.

Or so she’s
complained on more than one occasion, but I told her she has to take
it up with the NHL.

After firing up my
machine, I’m not surprised, yet still always pleased, to see
Cady’s email sitting at the top of my inbox. Her subject line
says, “Guess What?”

I open it up,
knowing that the first line of her message will rhyme with the
subject line. It’s something she started doing about a week
ago. It’s silly, stupid, and one of the many reasons why I
adore her.

To: Zane Kavanaugh

From: Cady Dunne

Subject: Guess What?

Date: December 13, 2014

Chicken butt!

LOL!

Okay, so this
won’t be long because I’m exhausted. I did get that paper
finished, so all is good in my world. School is officially over for
me until next module, and I’m glad for the break. And before
you ask, yes, I made sure to make my displeasure known to my partner.
I kind of actually laid into him for not having his portion done on
time, but he really didn’t care. I bet he’ll drop out of
the program next semester. Oh, well.

So, seriously…
guess what?

My mam and da
have decided to go to New Jersey to spend Christmas with Aunt Nora
and Uncle Nick, and of course, they invited me along. Renner and
Cillian are going too. So I was wondering… you know…
since we’ll be on the same continent, any chance you can get
out to the East Coast so we can see each other? I know your schedule
is tight. At least it looks that way to me, but I thought I’d
ask. It would suck to be this close yet not be able to see each
other. We’ll be flying in on the 23
^rd
and leaving on the 27
^th
.

I’m off to
bed now. Sweet dreams, you sweet man.

I miss you.

Oh, and I adore
you too in case you didn’t know that.

Love,

Cady

My eyes stayed glued
on her signature.

Love, Cady?

That’s new and
makes a bubble of warmth unfurl from the center of my chest. While
we’ve both said all sorts of endearments to each other, the “L”
word has never been mentioned.

Not that I don’t
want to mention it, but after her visit at Thanksgiving, I’m
really not quite sure where I stand with her. Cady said something to
me that sort of set me back on my heels a bit, and it has been making
me question everything about our relationship.

Cady had pointed out
that I knew her for all of five minutes. That was metaphorical, of
course, but her point was well made. We knew each other for four
months at that point, or roughly one-hundred and twenty-two days. Out
of that one-hundred and twenty-two days, we’d spent less than
five days of it together. So, logically, how can you have deep
feelings for someone that you’ve spent five days with?

That’s Cady’s
reasoning, for sure.

My reasoning is a
bit different. I don’t see it as five days together but rather
hours and hours and hours of conversation with each other. We’ve
probably exchanged hundreds of emails, texts, and phone calls. We’ve
had long talks late into the night, amazing phone sex, and flirty
texts. She’s talked me through rotten moods after I lose a
game, and I’ve talked her down off a ledge when she wanted to
nut punch one of her classmates because he wasn’t doing the
work on a group project. We’ve been there to support each other
over and over again, and that right there tells me all I need to
know.

When I have a
problem, Cady is the first person I think of to help me solve it.

When something good
happens to me, I want Cady to be the first to know about it.

When I see something
funny, I ache with bitter disappointment that Cady isn’t here
to share it with me, because it’s never quite as funny when I
tell her about it as when it actually happened.

It’s Cady,
Cady, Cady for me, and that’s all I logically need to know
about this relationship.

But, I’m not
sure Cady feels the same way. She was really upset at Thanksgiving
when she overheard Linc and me talking. It’s not like I was
seriously considering doing it right then. It was just an idea…
something to ponder if Cady and I continue to grow closer. I know
that this relationship cannot survive the long haul without us being
physically together. My gut has screamed at me loud and clear…
she’s the one.
So it’s no wonder that my brain is
constantly trying to come up with a solution that lets us be
together. I figured maybe I could go live over with her for her last
year of college, and then she could move here. If I was lucky, and
everything worked out for me, I could come back into the NHL.

Okay, so I know
that’s a long shot, because the players are too highly skilled
in the NHL, and if I give up my spot, it’s unlikely I’d
get it back. But like I said… I was just pondering different
ideas.

Cady nixed that idea
really fast though. When we got back to my house that last night, we
talked about it. Rather, Cady talked about it. She just reiterated
that she could never let me do that, and it seriously was a deal
breaker for her. She said she just couldn’t be responsible for
killing my hockey career.

And I got it. I
understood. It even made sense, and she was probably the saner of the
two of us at that moment.

And so, life went on
for us.

Cady went back to
Ireland, and I stayed here to play hockey.

We talked every day,
even if only for a few minutes to say goodnight or good morning. We
sent quick texts to each other, and when we had time, wrote lengthier
emails. It’s amazing, but when you don’t have a physical
proximity to someone you care for, you compensate in other ways, and
for us, that meant striving to deepen our connection in whatever way
we could.

And yeah… I
talked Cady into routinely getting on Skype with me, where we watched
each other get off. It wasn’t as fulfilling as being with her
in person, but I would take whatever intimacy I could get at this
point.

Yawning, I type a
quick reply to Cady.

To: Cady Dunne

From: Zane Kavanaugh

Subject: Re: Guess What?

Date: December 13, 2014

Chicken butt?
Seriously, that’s your rhyme? Lame, lassie. Just lame.

I hate it but
looking at my schedule, there is absolutely no way I’m going to
be able to make a trip to the East Coast at Christmas. We have a home
game on the 24
^th
and then I fly out to L.A.
on the 26
^th
.
I don’t think
Christmas is in the cards for us… but have you given any more
thought to flying out here maybe around March like we discussed
(letting me pay for it, of course—no arguments)? That’s
only three months away. We can handle that, right?