My Realtor, Jamie Nowak, will gladly take me around on a Saturday to look at properties here locally. He’s another friend I’ve known my entire life, plus he’ll be eager to earn another commission, not only on reselling my property but helping me find a new one.

  I have a solid plan in place that will keep my dreams moving forward. Now I just have to figure out what Coen and I really are and if we have a future together.

  CHAPTER 24

  Coen

  Not so awkward, sitting here with Gage, Stone, and Baden. They’re the three people within the Titans’ organization—along with Brienne Norcross and Callum Derringer—who consistently tried to help me through these dark months.

  While I wasn’t very good at engaging with them or accepting offers of help, and I outright rejected their advice, I at least know these people care. That has never been lost on me.

  I was just incapable of gratitude for their concern for a very long time.

  So yeah, sitting at dinner with these guys in a nice steakhouse with good food and pricey liquor, I can tell it’s not going to be as uncomfortable as I worried it would be when I accepted the invitation.

  We’ve ordered drinks, perused the menu, and made our selections. Bread has been delivered, and I listen as the guys joke amongst themselves, talking about their girlfriends and their plans for the remainder of summer. Training camp starts in seven weeks, and most of the players are doing some heavy traveling before then.

  Gage and Jenna are heading to California to hang with her parents for a bit, then to Iowa to spend time with his family.

  Even though Stone and Harlow vacationed in St. Lucia last month, they’re spending a few weeks up in Martha’s Vineyard in mid-August.

  And Baden and Sophie are itching to get away as they’ve been spending the first part of the off-season remodeling an old Victorian house. They’re off to Greece.

  I remember those days… using the off-season to satisfy wanderlust and truly relax. It’s essential to have the mental and physical break, and part of me is nostalgic hearing their travel plans.

  “What about you?” Stone asks, his eyes coming to me. “Going anywhere or are you just hanging out at the cabin?”

  “Just the cabin.” I might be a little nostalgic, but I have no desire to travel. Besides, Tillie’s right there, and she’s really all I’ve needed the last few weeks.

  “Aren’t you bored?” Gage asks.

  “No way. I hike almost every day, been fishing and doing a lot of work on the outside of the house. I fixed up the koi pond, and I’m thinking about building a gazebo.”

  Baden shudders in an overly dramatic fashion. “I’m so over building and remodeling right now.”

  I laugh, stirring my bourbon and soda with the small, colorful straw. “Well, I might be at some point, but for now, I love it. Buying that cabin was the best thing I’ve done in a long time.”

  Because I met Tillie.

  Admittedly, though, sitting here with the guys has me curious beyond all measure. I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I ask the question that will betray my previous statement that I’m done with hockey.

  “How’s the team looking for the season?” I ask nonchalantly, schooling my face into a placid expression of mild interest.

  “Not bad,” Gage says. “A lot of guys returning, but some good trades being made.”

  Now that Gage is officially a member of the coaching staff, he has insider knowledge right along with Baden.

  “The goalie situation has become a problem,” Baden chimes in. Our primary goalie, Jesper Keane, got injured late in the season, and our backup, Patrik Stenlund, just couldn’t hold it together. His play was inconsistent and unreliable. He’s a perfect example of someone brought up from the minors who couldn’t handle the transition to major league hockey. “Brienne’s going to reach out to Drake again.”

  “Drake McGinn?” I ask. He’s the only Drake associated with the league who is a goalie.

  Not that he’s actually in the league anymore. He left last year after a major betting scandal or some shit. I can’t recall the details.

  “That’s the one,” Baden says grimly. “He met with Brienne when she was actively building the new team, and things didn’t go well.”

  “As evidenced by the fact he’s not on the team,” Stone says.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  Stone, Gage, and Baden exchange looks that are somewhere between amused and frustrated. Clearly they all know the story, and why wouldn’t they? They bonded. They shared stories and information while the season progressed. I cut myself off from all relationships, because I didn’t think I deserved them and I was mired deep inside my own fucked up head.

  “Oh, it was a fucking disaster,” Baden says with a mirthless chuckle. “Brienne inadvertently insulted him by asking about his kids and how he’d care for them, and he essentially told her to fuck off. The meeting lasted less than three minutes.”

  I shake my head. “Damn. So, she’s going to try again?”

  “I’m thinking there will be groveling involved, but yeah… she’s going to reach out to him.”

  Gage laughs. “I can’t imagine Brienne Norcross groveling to anyone.”

  I smile. While I don’t have much good to say about the hockey season from my perspective, I have mad respect for the way Brienne took over the team. For knowing almost nothing about the sport, she sure has proven she has the ability to turn shit into gold.

  “What about Cannon West?” I ask just as the server arrives with our salads. He sets them down before each of us. “Has he moved to Pittsburgh yet?”

  “Yeah,” Gage replies, grabbing salt and pepper. “He bought a downtown condo. We’ve already had a meeting with the whole coaching staff. I think he’ll be good for getting the team to gel.”

  I cut into my salad. “Man, it’s hard for me to remember you’re a coach and not a player.”

  “Hard for me too sometimes,” Gage replies as he stabs a cucumber.

  There’s a moment of silence as we all take bites, but it’s Stone who turns things distinctly uncomfortable for me. “Now that Gage is a coach, there’s a captain slot available.”

  My head lifts, and he’s looking straight at me. Baden’s and Gage’s forks still above their plates.

  I keep my tone light but dismissive. “You’d make a great captain.”

  “You’d make a better one,” he replies, his tone just as light but in no way dismissive. “You’re the best choice for this team.”

  “I’m not on this team,” I remind him.

  “Wrong,” Gage says, and my gaze slides to him. “You’re still on the roster. You’re still drawing a salary. You promised Brienne and Callum you wouldn’t make a decision on quitting until training camp.”

  Those things are all fucking true, but I’ve quit in my heart. That’s what I mean. “Nothing has changed in my mind. I’m done with hockey.”

  “The fuck you are,” Stone growls. “You wouldn’t have played with us today if that were the case. You wouldn’t have taken the time to do a selfie with a young fan, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be asking how the team is shaping up or asking about Cannon West if you weren’t still tied to it.”

  I set my utensils down and pick up my bourbon. I take a hefty swallow before I look around the table. “I told Gage this when he came to visit a few weeks ago, but I broke major trust with one of the players who was on the team, and the guilt is—”

  “Stop,” Stone says, holding up a hand. “I don’t give a fuck what you did.”

  I glance at Gage. It’s the same thing he said to me, but he holds his silence, instead picking up his fork and digging into his salad.

  “But I—”

  “No one’s interested,” Baden says, cutting me off. “Not our business.”

  “It is when it comes to the matter of trust,” I growl, my gaze moving back and forth among the men. “You know what a team is. We’re family. We’re brothers. And I—”

  “Stop,” Stone orders again. “No matter what comes out of your mouth, no one cares. It’s in the past. It’s over. It doesn’t involve us. It’s not who you are.”

  “How do you know that?” I demand angrily. “You don’t know me at all.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” he retorts.

  I take in a breath and let it out. “I could do the same to any one of you. You really want that on the team?”

  “No, you couldn’t,” Stone says. “No one that torn up would ever repeat whatever that mistake was. No one who would throw away a career without a backward glance would ever repeat that mistake. So if you’re worried about being worthy of our trust, that’s an argument you can’t win. No one sitting here or in that locker room would believe it about you.”

  I glance over at Gage, and he shrugs. “I tried to tell you the same thing, and let me assure you, I’ve not told these guys about our conversation. They’re coming to their own conclusions.”

  “Listen,” Baden says, and my attention goes to him. “I know a little something about how traumatizing it is to lose this career, so I know you’re not taking things lightly. I get the distinct impression you’re giving it up because you feel like that’s the only way to make things right.”

  I blink at him. When you boil it all down, that’s exactly how I feel.

  “You already paid for your sins, Coen. You paid for it by losing out on this season. Don’t continue to bleed for it when the bill has already been paid in full. You’ve done enough.”

  “But you don’t know what I’ve done,” I insist.

  “Again,” Stone drawls, stepping into the conversation, “we don’t give a shit. All we care about is a team member who we see beating himself up day in and day out. A friend so wracked by remorse and guilt, he’s not able to function. We see a man who made a mistake, accepted responsibility for it, and has atoned a hundred times over by all the ways in which he’s lost out already. So, dude… man the fuck up, and let it go.”

  His last words are heated. Just a few months ago, anyone who took that tone with me would’ve received a mouth full of knuckles.

  Surprisingly, it’s like a pin has popped my balloon, and I deflate. I’m exhausted from it all, but I still have my doubts. “Just let it go?” I ask for clarification.

  “In the great words of Elsa, yes, man, let it go.”

  My forehead wrinkles. “Who’s Elsa?”

  “Never mind,” Gage says. “But this thing you did can’t be what holds you back anymore. It’s clear that it’s not a valid reason. If you still have guilt over surviving, that’s one thing, and you can get help for that. We’ll help you. But as far as trust goes, I trust you implicitly. I want you on this team. I don’t think the Titans will be as good as they possibly can be without you at the helm.”

  I want to believe him.

  Fuck, for the first time… I want it.

  I glance at Stone, and he nods.

  Baden does the same.

  They’ve given me an open door, and I have to consider seriously if I’ve got the guts to walk through it.

  Apparently, there’s no reason why I can’t. They’ve effectively removed the weight from my shoulders. The three teammates most important to me have insisted my penance is complete.

  Searching deep inside, it doesn’t take much effort to find the tiny kernel of fire I’d label as excitement. A flame that fans brighter and makes me realize I haven’t lost my love of the game.

  I’ve only forgotten about it.

  And suddenly, it all just seems so fucking clear to me.

  “I’m coming back,” I say, my body jolting at the sudden proclamation. I’ve released the words, and I’m sticking to them.

  “I’ll fucking drink to that,” Gage booms as he hoists his glass. Baden and Stone follow, wide grins splitting their faces as they raise their own drinks in toast.

  I tap mine against theirs, and I’ve sealed the deal.

  CHAPTER 25

  Tillie

  Jamie Nowak slips the blue folder under his arm and pushes open the door to his office, allowing me to precede him out to the sidewalk. Ironically, his office sits only two doors down from Teddy’s. The two men who helped me purchase my current home will now help me find a new one.

  Hopefully.

  Ann Marie and I drank way too much wine last night as we searched Zillow. We got silly, looking at unreasonably expensive homes and large parcels of mountain acreage where I dreamed of building an artist community.

  But we also found some good options, and I emailed all the links to Jamie. When I went to sleep last night, I felt good about my decision to move.

  Or rather, I felt good about my decision to let Coen have his slice of peaceful paradise while I move on and search for a new one.

  Am I being a martyr?

  I don’t think so. I truly care about Coen, and after I learned about the demons he’s fighting stemming from the crash and his own mistakes, I can’t continue to fight him.

  “I’m parked down the block,” Jamie says, pointing east. “Want to take my car?”

  “My air conditioning is spotty at best, and I’m down farther. Yes, let’s take yours.”

  We chat about the weather, which has been brutishly hot the last few days. It’s not that we’re not good enough friends to talk about more, but it’s just a short walk to his car. Besides that, I’ve spent the last half hour in his office being grilled about whether this is the best decision for me.

  I love him for doing that because he’s going to make money off me. His concerns are legitimate, though, in that I might not make my money back on selling my place, which means money has been tossed down the drain.

  It’s a risk I’m willing to take because in my gut, it’s the right thing to do not only for myself, but for Coen. I can’t care about someone and then do something that will hurt them in the next breath.

  I just can’t.

  We reach Jamie’s car, and he opens the passenger door for me. Before I can slide in, a loud honk makes me jump, and I look over the roof of his car to a big truck idling in the street.

  Not just any truck—Coen’s. I start to smile because I knew he was coming back today but not when. The smile slides right off my face, though, as his window rolls down and I find him glaring at me.

  “Any reason why you’re getting in another man’s vehicle?” he asks, his words squeezing through the tight grit of his teeth.

  My chin jerks inward as I’m stunned over his palpable anger.

  Or rather… his jealousy.

  He’s jealous.

  I have to bite back a laugh as I throw a thumb at Jamie. “He’s my real estate agent.”

  “And that makes me feel better how?” Coen growls.

  I turn to Jamie. “I’m so sorry. Can you give me maybe ten minutes? I’ll come back into your office.”

  Jamie’s eyes widen as he stares at the truck. “Holy shit… do you know who that is?”

  “Yeah, Coen Highsmith.” I chuckle. “And if I don’t defuse this situation, he might kick your ass.”

  Jamie’s gaze snaps to me. “Really?”

  “No, not really. But give me ten minutes, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles, closing the door and taking a few steps back. I turn to walk around the front of his car when he calls my name. “Um… think I could get an autograph?”

  “I’m sure I can get you that,” I reply with a wink.

  As I approach Coen’s truck, I feel the weight of his stare. He unlocks the door, and I climb up.

  Once settled, I turn toward him and offer another smile. “That was an old friend and the Realtor who—”

  Coen moves so fast, I can’t even process. I’m jerked into him, and his mouth crashes on mine, tongue going in for the kill. I groan, falling so far into the kiss that I never want to climb out.

  A car honks behind us, and I stiffen. Coen doesn’t let me go, though, talking against my mouth. “Good thing you vouched for the guy, or he could’ve lost some teeth.”

  I push him away with a smirk and look over my shoulder out the back window. “Let’s get out of the street. Go find a spot over there.”

  “We’re going to my house since it’s twenty seconds closer to us than yours, and I’m getting you naked,” he says as he puts the truck in drive.

  “I can’t. I have an appointment with Jamie, and I told him I’d be back in ten minutes.”

  “Appointment for what?” Coen drives two blocks down to the town’s sole shopping center that houses a grocery store, a nail salon, a dollar store, and a Chinese restaurant.

  He pulls in and parks in the first available spot.

  “I’m looking at some property today.”

  Coen frowns at me. “Why are you looking at property?”

  I thought it would be easy to answer this question, because I knew eventually I’d need to tell him what I’m doing. But suddenly, I feel bashful about my plan and turn my head to look out the window as I nibble my lower lip.

  “Tillie,” he says, drawing my attention to him.

  “I’m going to sell my house and look for something different.”

  His frown deepens. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you don’t want the trees cut down, and I need that driveway. So the simplest thing for me to do is find another place that doesn’t impede someone else’s happiness.”

  “No,” he drawls with a chastising look. “The easiest thing would be to stay where you are and cut the trees down. You know you’re going to win the case next week. My attorney says it’s a long shot for me to fight the easement.”

  “My attorney said the same thing. But I’m not going to cut those trees down, not when I know how important they are to you.”

  “But they’re important to you to cut them down. In fact, it’s vital for you to be able to build your studio.”

  “Yes,” I say, a bit exasperated. “But that would be contrary to my nature. Now that I care for you, I can’t do it. There’s no way. But I’m also not giving up my dream, so the only solution is for me to look for another place. I can find something else, and you can keep your property just the way it is, which ensures your privacy.”