Page 88 of Bagging the Blueliner
Telling myself we just had to get over the hump, I kept my head down and did everything Coach demanded of us without question. It hurt like hell, but I suffered in silence. The last thing I needed to do was draw extra attention to myself.
After a week of torture, we fell back into our normal groove.
Thankfully, we came out of the break with a few home games. It took all my self-control not to smile like an idiot every time Hannah came out to sing the anthem.
Damn, that girl had a set of pipes on her.
Why hadn’t she ever pursued a career in music?
Hannah was more talented than half the artists I heard on the radio. Anyone with eyes could see how much she enjoyed it whenshe sang—her eyes closed, and a peace seemingly settled over her. It couldn’t be that bullshit about not having the right look; she was downright gorgeous. And it wasn’t because she got stage fright. She performed for almost twenty thousand people every time she walked out onto that red carpet.
It weighed heavily on my mind during the quiet after our post-win fuck. I knew she supported my career, and I wanted her to know I would be there if she wanted to pursue her own dreams.
Running my hands up and down the soft skin of her arm, my lips brushed against her temple as I spoke, “Can I ask you something?”
“Hmm,” came her dazed reply. I’d ridden her hard tonight—my adrenaline high after the win had been released on her body.
“Have you ever wanted to do something more with your singing? Your voice is so incredible. You could have a real shot.”
Hannah’s body tensed in my arms. “No.” It was one word, but I could hear her voice trembling.
“Why not?”
Turning in my arms so she faced away from me, she blew out a heavy breath. “If I wanted to get more serious about singing, I would need to move to Nashville or LA. I’d built a life in Connecticut and put down roots for the first time in my life. I wasn’t ready to give that up.”
She couldn’t see my frown. There was more to this story.
Attempting to piece it together, I mused, “Amy went off to college. Natalie moved to Europe. You’re telling me your best friends left you behind, but you didn’t want to leave?”
Hannah’s body language gave her away. She brought her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself. “I don’t know.”
I ran a hand soothingly through her hair. “Hannah, tell me what really happened.”
She shook her head, so I simply held her. My thumb brushed her cheek, encountering wetness. My heart broke into a millionpieces. I thought I was asking a simple question, and it killed me that I’d managed to stumble upon something that upset her.
Squeezing my eyes shut tightly against the pain, I whispered, “Baby, please don’t cry. We don’t have to talk about this.”
Hannah’s body shook as she tried to hold back a sob.
Fuck. What did I do?
I couldn’t stand it any longer. Turning her body, I let her bury her face in my chest. Hot tears slid down my bare skin.
Muffled against my chest, her voice was whisper-quiet. “What if they tell me I’m no good?”
“Who?” I asked, confused.
Tilting her face up to peek at me in the dimmed room, I could see the tears swimming in her sad blue eyes. “The music execs.”
Stunned, I stared down at her. “Don’t you know how talented you are?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “Everyone’s friends and family blow smoke up their ass. They’d tell me I was great even if I sounded like a dying cat.”
I shook my head. “Come on. Your dad doesn’t have enough pull to get you the anthem gig if you sounded like squeaky bagpipes. You wouldn’t have lasted more than two games, tops.”
That brought a tiny smile to Hannah’s lips, but it disappeared just as quickly. “Thousands of aspiring artists out there never get their big break. They hear ‘no’ more than they ever hear ‘yes.’ Do you know how much of a mindfuck that would be? I would start to overanalyze every note I sang until it became a chore instead of a joy. Why ruin a good thing?”
I understood that more than she would ever know.
