Alex Page 90

“What do you know?” I say with as snide a look as I can muster. “Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em is now a philosopher on love.”

“Not at all,” he answers smoothly. “I just happen to be one smart motherfucker, and I know something good when I see it.”

I pick up my bottle and take a healthy swig of beer. We have a rare two days off in a row and I’m killing time with Garrett in a bar because I’ll just sit depressed in my apartment otherwise. It seems any downtime I have is spent thinking about Sutton.

It is, without a doubt, the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life, cutting her loose. I was so wrapped up in my own misery that I couldn’t see what I had standing right in front of me.

And I was scared.

Scared of giving up that carefully controlled life, of letting in the potential for hurt when I had been hurt enough.

Sutton was absolutely right. I’m a f**king coward.

I miss her so much.

So very f**king much, and my body aches with emptiness.

I put Sutton last in my list of devotions when she should have been number one. Yes, my priorities were screwed up, made even worse by the fact she fulfilled me more than any hockey career could, and she was the only one who truly knew what I was going through with my father.

None of it matters, though. Because as sure as I’m sitting here, there’s not a doubt in my mind I f**ked this up beyond repair. I did the same thing to her that Brandon did. I made it clear she wasn’t good enough at that moment in time. Brandon wanted to go chase some tail, and I wanted to go chase some sort of peace that was never on the path that I chose.

“Dude, where did you go?” Garrett breaks into my thoughts, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

Shaking my head, I mumble, “Nowhere.”

“Yeah…remember that part where I told you I was one smart motherfucker? Well, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you were silently agreeing with me that you made a dumbass move and you were mulling over the thought that you really couldn’t fix the problem.”

My jaw drops open just a little. “What are you? Like a f**king mind reader or something?”

Garrett grins at me and taps his temple with his forefinger. “Smart. Mother. Fucker.”

“Okay, fine. I admit it. I screwed up. It will probably go down as the single dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But it’s done. I can’t fix it.”

“Chickenshit” is all he says.

“What is it with people questioning my courage?” I grumble.

“Because if you don’t fight for her, it’s a pu**y move. You might as well strap on a pink jockstrap next game.”

Rubbing my temple and staring blankly across the bar—because Garrett sometimes has a way of inducing a migraine—I try to think of a good comeback. Garrett doesn’t give me the opportunity, though.

“Besides, I have it on good authority that you won’t even have to grovel to get her back.”

My eyes snap to his. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I asked Sutton point-blank what it would take to fix this shit.”

“And?” I prompt.

“And she assured me no groveling would be needed. She still loves you, buddy. More important, she understands you. She understands your moment of weakness, so just show her it was nothing but a moment.”

His words are simple, yet they cause elation to swell within me. I had for sure thought I ruined everything with Sutton. In my world, things are black and white, and forgiveness is a foreign concept and a tough pill to swallow.

“Seriously?” I ask, smiling for what I’m betting is the first time in over two weeks.

“Cross my heart,” he assures me. “So what’s the plan?”

Picking up my beer and downing the rest, I stand up and throw some cash on the bar. Turning to Garrett, I say, “Well, you said groveling isn’t needed but I’m thinking Sutton deserves a little something more than just a lame-ass apology. I have something in mind and I need your help, and Glenn’s too, for that matter.”

Standing up, Garrett slaps his hands together and rubs them briskly. “I love it. A devious plan.”

“Exactly,” I say with a grin. “Let’s get to it.”

***

Garrett just left my apartment and we have worked out a solid plan, which in my estimation will put Sutton in a position where she has no choice but to take me back. We had to call Glenn first, to make sure he was on board, because he’s instrumental to the plot.

The little dude was not happy to hear from me, which was beyond adorable. I mean, I’m his hockey idol, but he worships the ground Sutton walks on far more than he does my terra firma.

When he got on the line and I told him “hello,” he said, “You hurt my sister and I don’t want anything to do with you.”

I had to do some fast talking so he wouldn’t hang up on me, but thankfully he listened, and after much groveling on my part, he finally agreed to help me. Garrett had his part of the scheme secured and planned on meeting Glenn tomorrow for the handoff.

He gave me a fist bump and a grin before leaving, saying, “This is going to be so much f**king fun. And you know you’re going to get an ass-chewing from the management, right?”

“It will be worth it,” I told him, and it would be so worth it.

Now the only thing left I had to do before I reclaimed what was mine and what I so foolishly let get away, was to make a very important phone call.

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