Page 14 of Match Penalty

"I'm not going to tell her anything. I made you a promise that we are in this together. There's too much at stake for both of us. But as soon as I can… " I say finally.

"One and a half years, JP,” Angelica says, her voice softening. "After that, the statute of limitations runs out, and no one can touch us."

"I’m not sure I have that long," I say. "Coach Wrenley’s looking for a reason to cut me, and Cammy..." I trail off, gripping the neon green hair band around my wrist. "She hasn't forgotten about San Diego. She’s barely speaking to me."

A laugh bubbles out of Angelica. "Wait. You actually thought she might have forgotten? Women don't usually forget the guy who slept with them and disappeared, only to show up in the news hours later getting arrested with another woman."

"Thanks for that stellar recap of the worst morning of my life." I move to another box by the island and pick it up off the floor—plates and silverware. "Any other highlights you'd like to revisit? Maybe that time I got food poisoning at my mom's third wedding and threw up all over you and the dance floor during the macarena?"

"Gross. Did you really have to bring that up? I'm still trying to erase that night from my memory. And don’t bother blaming the food again. You were absolutely wasted and only seventeen years old. Your mom was furious. Don’t you remember?" she asks. "And for the record, it's a true testament of my love and loyalty, because I don’t know many friendships that could survive being puked on."

"I know, you're a good friend, Ang," I tell her.

She clicks her tongue, like she’s about to cave—because she always does with me. "Fine. If this is what you want…”

What I want is to go back to that morning, and change everything. I’d leave a note for Cammy, tell her why I had to leave instead of letting her wake up alone. But I can’t. Instead, I raced out of that room to help Angelica, dragging myself into the crash that ruined everything. And now, Cammy thinks I abandoned her for another woman—and I’ve got no way to prove otherwise without implicating myself and Angelica, for something I still believe I made the right call on.

But I can't change the past. And after weeks of calls, texts and even a desperate flight to Seattle, trying to track her down after she blocked my number, I finally gave up. That's when I knew that my chances with her were gone. All I can do is take it day by day, hoping I’ll get an opening to show her that I’m not who she thinks.

In the meantime, I’ll focus my efforts on getting signed with the Hawkeyes.

"We don't always get what we want. What I need right now is to focus on proving myself to the team," I tell her. "To Coach Haynes. To Coach Wrenley."

“What are you going to do about Cammy?”

I stare at the hairband around my wrist, worn and stretched from a year and a half of trying to figure that out. It’s my only tether to her—and the reason I made it through tryouts. My lucky charm, or a reminder of everything I wrecked. Maybe both.

"I don’t know yet," I admit. "But I know one thing—I have to sign with the Hawkeyes. If there's even the slightest chance she’ll give me another shot, I need to be here. I need you to do everything in your power to make this deal happen. No negotiations, no counteroffers. If they put a contract in front of me, I’m signing it."

“JP, that’s not how negotiations work.”

“I don’t care about the contract, the money, or the starting line. At the end of the day, I’m here for one thing. I’m here for her. The Hawkeyes are my way in, and a nice bonus, but none of it means anything without her.”

Making it back to the NHL felt impossible a year ago. But losing Cammy again? That’s something I know I wouldn’t survive.

Tomorrow, I’ll be back on the ice, Seven breathing down my neck, waiting for me to screw up. Every drill, every block, every second in the net—none of it will matter if I don’t get this right. Because no amount of pressure, no contract, no championship win will ever compare to what’s really at stake.

Her.

A second chance with Cammy is the only goal that matters. And signing with the Hawkeyes? That’s just how I’ll get there.

I hear Angelica take a deep breath. She's getting the point now. Cammy doesn't want anything to do with me. She made that clear this morning when I went in to get my key.

"Okay, you made your point. I won’t twist arms to get you a mega signing deal. Though you’re killing all my fun," she says begrudgingly. "Good luck tomorrow. Show them what you can do." She pauses. "And JP…” her voice softens. "I never meant for any of this to happen. If I hadn't been so upset that night, if I hadn't called you—"

"You're my best friend, Ang," I say finally. "You needed help. End of story. And if the truth about that night came out, it wouldn’t just cost us fines and jail time. It will end both of our careers. I’ll lose my shot at Cammy all over again, and you’ll lose everything you’ve worked for. I can’t let that happen.”

"So, what do you need to do now?” she asks.

The only thing I can do. Take my last shot.

“I need to stay on the Hawkeyes team. I’ll play for free if that’s what it takes. But I can’t leave that team–-not until I know Cammy and I are done for good.” I tell her knowing that it pains her to leave money on the table, but Cammy is worth more than any contract in the NHL.

“Then play your heart out and get them to send me a contract. Good luck,” she tells me.

After we hang up, I stare at my reflection in the window. By morning, I'll be back on the ice with Seven, so for now, I need to get some sleep.

My phone buzzes again—a text.

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