Page 50 of My Last Dance

He heaved a sigh and gave me a lopsided grin, but it didn’t make it to his eyes. “I’m trying out college.”

I squinted up at him, trying to understand. “Are you…on the hockey team?”

“Nah, can’t. I already got paid to play up in the OHL, I’m barred from the NCAA.”

“That’s stupid,” I blurted out.

He dropped his head and pulled at the front of his dark hair. “I should’ve gone to college, taken the first scholarship I was offered. I thought I could make it.” When he looked back up at me, he had a pained look on his face, one that said,isn’t that stupid, that I believed I could make it?My heart crumbled.

“You can,” I pushed.

He choked out a pathetic laugh as he picked at the label on his beer. “I already didn’t.” He took another long pull.

“So…it’s over? You’re just quitting?” I snapped. “Never took you for a quitter.”

“I don’t know, P.” He glanced sideways at his new buddies and chuckled at something they said. He was half-wasted, smelling oddly of other substances, and completely distracted.

“I do.” It came out as a whisper.

“Huh?” he asked, but his focus was still on the guys.

Reaching forward, I grabbed his chin and made him look at me. He lost weight, making his cheeks look almost gaunt, and he had serious bags under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping. “Idoknow that you’re not a quitter. Are you drunk? High? What’s wrong with you?”

“Maybe?” He laughed. “What difference does it make?”

I’d never seen him quite so despondent, and it was freaking me out. Panic gripped my chest as I grabbed the beer out of his hand and threw it in the trash with a loud clunk. “You’re done.” I pointed a finger at his face.

A chorus of “oooh” and laughter came from his new buddies.

“What the fuck?” Kappy said, playing it up for the guys, and it felt like deja-vu. But I didn’t embarrass easily anymore, nor did I care what anyone else thought of me, especially not these strangers.

“Look at me, not them,” I demanded, stepping right up to him so that our chests were almost flush. “This isn’t you.”

His face fell. “It’s fine, Piper. I’m gonna get some business or finance degree. Business people can make evenmorethan athletes.” He looked down at me with such hope in his eyes that the rest of my anger deflated. His hands went to my waist and his voice dipped down to a whisper to say, “I can still buy us that penthouse, I promise. I’ll find a way, baby.”

He remembered. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest. How was it that I wanted to hug him, but slap him at the same time? His words were so sweet, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d ignored me for months.

Taking a step back from him, out of his arms, I sucked in a steadying breath. I needed to shelf my anger and my feelings for a later date because he was too lost himself to worry about anything else. First priority was getting him back on track.

“You’re going to have a desk job? You?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “I can do it,” he said defensively. I knew he hated being thought of as stupid.

“I know youcan,” I snapped, “but why would you want to?”

His eyes darted around for an answer. “Because Piper, hockey didn’t work out, now drop it. Please. I’m already pissed about it, okay?”

I shoved a finger into his chest. “Not pissed enough. Meet me at the rink.”

He reeled back. “What? Now?”

“No. Tomorrow morning, 5:30 a.m.”

His face cracked in confusion. He looked to his buddies for clarification, but no one was paying attention to us anymore. “Huh?”

“My parents bought extra ice time for me. 5:30 a.m. every weekday morning. If you’re not there, I will hunt you down, and youwillbe sorry.”

He stood taller, then almost tipped sideways. “Yeah? What’re you gonna do?” he asked, trying to recover.

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