Page 2 of Sin Bins and Second Chances
“We knew this long distance thing would be hard. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Her voice is flat, emotionless—not at all like her.
My throat tightens. “We just saw each other. I don’t understand. I thought we were okay.”
It feels like it came out of nowhere. When did she have time to meet someone? I know everyone in Sage Creek. Everyone knows we’re together. How could this happen?
“I’m sorry, Ethan.”
“How long?” My jawclenches.
“It’s over.” I hear a hitch in her breath, almost as if she’s breaking.
“Is this a joke?” I question only to be met with silence. “So, this is it? This is what you want? Someone else?” I swallow.
“Yes,” she whispers, and my stomach drops. “Goodbye.”
The line beeps as she hangs up. I pull the phone away to look down at her face, staring back at me on my phone’s wallpaper.
I can’t move. Coldness creeps up my spine and I stay frozen in place.
The victory of the game feels like a distant memory as I question everything. She was it. Daisy was my fucking forever. I don’t know what comes next. She was part of why I was working so hard. We were going to create a life together. Now? All I know is that nothing will ever be the same.
Chapter One
ETHAN
Seven Years Later
“This isyour last fucking chance, man. Don’t ruin it.” Chad grumbles next to me, then picks up his pace.
I roll my eyes, not that he can see behind my sunglasses. As if I don’t know the stakes. Everything is riding on this moment, but I’mthisclose to telling him to shove it and walk in alone. Our contract is coming up next month; there’s no telling if either of us will even want to renew it. We’ve been at each other’s throats for a while, and I’m more than ready to hire a new manager and start fresh.
The truth is, I need him—for now. He’s a pain in my ass. Unfortunately, he’s also good at his job. After everything that’s happened over the last couple of years, I don’t exactly have teams lining up with offers.
“The Wolves are done with you.” Chad pauses before we enter the building. “You know that, right? Let’s not blow your one shot here. This is a last chance effort.”
I clench my jaw, but don’t answer. There’s nothing left to say. It’s not lost on me, the double meaning of his words. My entire future is riding on this. The head coach of the Wolves basically told me I was at the end of my line with the team. Fuck, even my teammates seemed done with me. Not that I could blame them.
I’ve been screwing up for a while. Failing and falling in all the areas I’d usually excelled in. Life had picked me up in its tornado, flung me around, and made me hit everywhere I shouldn’t.
This is my last chance. Possibly the last team I will ever play for. If this doesn’t work, it will be like the last seven years never mattered. I quit collegeduring my junior year, because of an offer to play pro. If I’d been smart, I would’ve finished and then tried. I’d been in a rut at the time and needed something good to happen, so I grabbed on with both hands and never looked back.
It’s been six years of playing professional hockey, and I’ve been screwing it up for a good chunk of that time. I know I still have a few amazing years in me. A better player, teammate, and man. I’m only twenty-seven. This has to work.
I’ll show them, all of them.
I’ll prove I belong here.
The fact that the general manager of the Lonestar Bobcats agreed to take this meeting is a miracle. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work. I simply need the chance to prove it.
“With your record, there won’t be much up for negotiation.” He mumbles as we approach the reception desk.
The rectangular desk is a lacquered brown with the team’s logo displayed on the front. It’s backlit with the same shade of orange they use in the stadium for games. I haven’t been back in that stadium in a while, but I remember it all the same.
My favorite memories of being there are when I wasstill in high school and we didn’t have a game of our own. Fun weekends with friends piled up into a vehicle or two to make the hour drive to Lubbock and turn it into a night out.
An older woman in her mid-sixties looks up with a smile. “Miller?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I reply softly, keeping the edge out of my voice.
