Page 28 of Wild Blades

I’ve mellowed since then. Maybe.

That urge to get angry and lash out lurks in the darkest corners of my sanity, like a troll under a bridge, but I’m learning to tame it. With the assistance of Joe and Thomas, it’s not needing to be fed as much. I hope that continues.

It’s helping.

I know it is.

Myles exits the en suite, cupping his junk and rearranging himself after taking a piss. “You’ve never been on a night out with us and not had a drink before, and you don’t have a game tomorrow. What’s up with that?” He grabs Ezra’s beer and takes a swig.

Pulling my shoulders to my ears, I give them a non-answer. “Just don’t feel like it.”

They both stare at my reflection, looking back at them in the mirror, and I know they can tell I’m lying.

They’ll get it out of me eventually, so I might as well come clean.

“Okay.” I spin around and stuff my hands into the front pockets of my black jeans. “They’re going to kick me off the team and transfer me to some deadbeat one if I don’t get my shit together.”

“No fucking way,” Ezra exclaims at the same time Myles says, “They can’t move you out of Canada.”

“Marcus can and will,” I confirm, pushing Myles’ shoes off the bedcovers. Something Gretchen was a stickler for.No dirty shoes on the bed.I rub my chest as emotion weighs it down, but after the last few weeks of therapy, it feels a little easier to cope with. I know I won’t drown in it.

“Well, if that’s what you have to do, then no drinking. I don’t want you to move from Canada or not be an Eagle anymore. I like our free tickets for the finals. Fucking hate Marcus for not letting you drink tonight though,” Ezra jokes.

I point at him, then motion to the space around us. “He pays me well enough to stay here and pay for all your drinks tonight.”

“Fucking love that guy.” Chuckling, Ezra takes back his last words. “It’s about time you got your act together and prove to him you want to stay. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.” He looks around my hotel suite. “And when the hell are you going to find a house? You can’t stay here forever.”

I look around the space, which is pretty great. While it has a kitchen, living and office area, and a bar, it’s wasting my money.

Renting made sense to me before, but doesn’t now. I need to go house hunting and find a permanent place to rest my weary body after games.

A place that feels like home because this place doesn’t.

“I’ll contact a realtor on Monday,” I confirm.

“Great.” Ezra jumps to his feet and rubs his hands together. “Pussy pad for Wade.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Fuck off.”

“Party pad then? For when we visit, which means we don’t have to stay with our parents, which is what you’ve made us do this time.” Myles looks hopeful, his eyes wide and dancing with humor.

Meaning he can’t hook up with a girl if she doesn’t have her own place. I raise my eyebrows. Some things never change. “You were here for Thanksgiving to visit family. Not to hook up with girls.”

Both still single, Ezra and Myles moved away from Edmonton straight after high school. Ezra is currently in his third year of residency to become a cardiothoracic surgeon and lives in Toronto. I would ask him if he could fix my heart, but I don’t want him to see how broken it is.

And Myles, well, Myles moved to Seattle as soon as high school was over and is still trying to make it as a singer-songwriter. I’m hoping he still has a chance. It’s been seven years, and he’s still plugging away, trying to make ends meet as an open mic singer and guitarist. That’s why I help him out from time to time, as does Ezra. Myles is our boy, and we would hate to see him go without.

“Let’s hope the hottest girl in the club tonight has her own place.” Myles runs his hands through his blond hair, pulling off the perfect grungy surfer look without effort.

I roll my eyes. One-night stands are so not my thing. Learned my lesson there. Don’t sleep with the crazies or puck bunnies.

Fuck to the no.

“Which club are we going to?” Ezra finishes his beer and sits his empty bottle on the nightstand.

“I booked a VIP booth at Euphoria.” I pick my phone up and push it into the back pocket of my jeans.

“Nice one.” Ezra nods, seemingly impressed with my choice. It’s the best nightclub in town, and the VIP area keeps any puck bunnies who might be out on the prowl at bay.

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