Dreams (New Beginnings Book 3) (11 page)

Eleven

How did I get here?
Taylor thought to herself for the hundredth time as she stared up at the building she swore she’d never enter.

People streamed by her, only parting wide enough to avoid contact. A sea of jerseys stretched out before her. The Pittsburgh Penguins were in town, so it’d be a sold out crowd, but she had a ticket. She’d known this was her father’s plan all along - to get her back to the arena, back to the sport she loved. For every game, he left a ticket at will call, hoping she’d pick it up, hoping she’d walk through those doors.

Well, she was here now, when every bone in her body wanted to turn and walk away, but it wasn’t for the game. She’d spent all day thinking about Josh. His smile, his lips, and the look in his eyes from the night before. He was terrified of screwing up in front of his family. A family that Taylor couldn’t understand, but Josh loved them despite their actions - even his brother.

He had no faith in himself. His confidence was gone.

Taylor sat in her dorm room only hours ago, remembering everything he’d done for her. He’d been there for her more than anyone else, giving her the strength she needed. Now it was time to return some of that, but her feet were rooted to the spot, not willing to move closer, but reluctant to flee. Her knuckles turned white as she clutched her purse in a death grip, her gaze lifting to the massive picture of Mack that graced the front of the building.

Even outside, there was a buzz in the air that she’d always associated with hockey. It wasn’t a popular sport, but those that followed it tended to do so with a vigor that was unmatched. She knew the feeling personally. The closest NHL team to Portland was in Vancouver. She’d only made the five-and-a-half-hour drive a few times, but she’d rarely missed a game on TV. She wasn’t really a Canucks fan, just a hockey fan any way she could get it.

When school didn’t get in the way, she traveled with the Winterhawks while her dad was coach. Something about the game mesmerized her. She’d never played herself because she could never get the skating down.

Someone bumped her shoulder as they passed, sending her stumbling forward. She caught herself and took three deep breaths before putting one foot in front of the other. Her ticket was waiting for her as she knew it would be, and as soon as she entered the arena, memories came flooding in.

I’m going to the NHL,
Danny had said the first time she met him.
You can bet on that.
He’d been sixteen and scrawny. It took another year before any of the scouts agreed with him.

Walking around the concourse, she inhaled to take in the smells that were very much hockey - popcorn and fried food and the clean smell of the ice.

Taylor thought she couldn’t come here because it’d make her feel the loss even deeper. She was wrong. She suddenly felt closer to Danny than she had in the past year. She wanted that feeling to last forever, to know he was watching over her.

Glancing at her ticket once more, she turned into the section named and show it to the attendant. She followed his pointing finger with her eyes and met the gaze of her mom who was staring at her with a mixture of disbelief and wonder. She brought her hand to her mouth as Taylor smiled down at her. Evie was waving frantically.

Taylor walked down the steps to their row and faced her family.

“Sissy, you came!” Evie jumped towards her and wrapped her little arms around Taylor’s legs.

“Hey, Ev.” She bent down and returned her sister’s hug.

As soon as she straightened up, her mom was crushing her in her arms.

The crowd started to cheer as the team skated out onto the ice. Taylor sunk into her chair as the cheers turned to boos and the Penguins’ starters lined up at center ice. The national anthem was sung and the puck was dropped.

The energy of the crowd flowed along with the game. There were cheers when the Jackets goalie made saves and groans when the Penguins goalie stuffed Mack on a beautiful play.

When Josh took the ice, Taylor didn’t take her eyes from his number twelve jersey. She could tell something was off, she just hoped no one else could. Seconds later, he was called for a penalty and sent to the box.

The rest of the period went on in much the same way. The Penguins scored two unanswered goals and Josh was benched for the last five minutes.

Intermission came and Taylor could tell her mom had questions, but didn’t want to ask them.

“I’m here for Josh,” Taylor admitted to her.

“Josh?” her mom asked.

“Walker,” Taylor clarified.

“Oh.” Her mom was surprised, but she didn’t press the issue. There was a gleam in her eyes that Taylor didn’t get a chance to ask about because the team came back out to start the second period and it was time for her to do something.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the folded paper she’d worked on earlier and jumped from her chair to march down the steps. The puck was dropped, and a few people yelled at her to sit down. She didn’t listen. When Josh’s line hopped over the boards, she pushed her way to the glass and held the picture to it.

Josh rushed down the left side and then chased the puck behind the net. He didn’t see her. She should have known he wouldn’t, not while the game was being played.

His shift ended, and she watched him on the bench. The play was stopped for a penalty and a commercial break ensued. Taylor saw Josh’s teammate nudge him in the side and then point to the scoreboard. She followed his gaze to the screen that held an image of her and her sign. The people behind her waved frantically, no longer mad that she was blocking their view.

The camera then showed a close up of the bench where Josh was sitting with wide eyes and a grin tugging on the corner of his mouth. Mack jostled him, grinning like an idiot, and then the game started once more and Josh was sent in to play.

###

“Inexcusable!” Coach Peterson yelled, his eyes scanning the locker room. “You’re better than that. I want you to forget about that period. From here on out, this is a new game.”

Josh didn’t listen to the rest of what Coach said. He pulled his sopping undershirt away from his chest and then released it to stick against his skin once more. He couldn’t seem to do anything right out there. Coach took him out of the face-off circle and even benched him for the last few minutes. He just knew his brother was in the stands loving it.

He wanted to do well in front of them. Many people had had doubts about his talent throughout his junior career, but his family doubting it had been the worst. It wasn’t until he made the NHL that his parents stopped telling him he needed to get serious about his future because hockey was a long shot.

He didn’t want to prove them right.

“You good, Walker?” Olle asked walking up in front of Josh.

Josh hadn’t realized Coach stopped speaking or that his teammates were already putting their gear back on.

“Yeah.” Josh pulled his jersey on over his head and tied it down.

“Look,” Olle went on. “We need you to be better than that.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Sometimes I get the impression you think you’re expendable.”

Josh looked away and Olle put a strong hand on his shoulder before continuing. “The team needs you, but not if you don’t play your game.”

He glanced at Carter across the room and smiled at Olle’s use of the same words he’d said to the kid. 

The team marched out as the crowd cheered. They were here to see a good game, and they needed to try to give them that, despite being down 2-0.

Mack took the face-off and Josh jumped into the play. It was an uneventful shift, but he didn’t screw up. Almost as soon as he was back on the bench, the game was stopped and they had a short break.

“Walker.” Mack nudged him in the side.

“What?”

“Look.” He pointed towards the scoreboard, and Josh could only stare.

It was Taylor holding a sign to the glass that read
Josh, I’m here. Show them.
It wasn’t just a sign, it was a work of art.

“Oh my God,” Coach Scott said when he saw what was going on.

Josh scanned the glass surrounding the ice until he found that tell-tale short hair and glasses. Mack grabbed his shoulders and shook him as he grinned.

“Dude, that girl totally has the hots for you,” Mack said, loudly enough that most of their teammates heard. They chuckled as they started to rib him.

The game started again, and it was all business as soon as the face-off was taken. Josh cast a glance back at Coach Scott to find him smiling as well. He couldn’t remember ever seeing that expression on his coach’s face.

“Josh,” Coach Peterson yelled. “What are you doing, lover boy? I told you to get your ass in there!”

His skates hit the ice and it suddenly felt like a different game. Zakharov skated with the puck out of the zone and passed to Mack at center ice. Mack darted down the center, passing to Josh as he saw two defensemen closing in. Josh circled behind the net before serving a perfect saucer pass back to Mack, who’d parked himself in front of the net. A loud ping sounded as the puck hit the bar at the back of the net.

The green light went on, the horn sounded, and one cannon blast filled the arena. The guys on the ice came together, slapping Mack and Josh on their backs and then it was back to business. They were still down.

Halfway through the period, a Penguins defenseman crunched Mack into the boards, throwing an elbow to the back of his head. The ref missed it, and no penalty was called. Mack was a little wobbly as he returned to the bench, but ultimately okay.

Before that defenseman was able to get off, Josh went after him, dropping his shoulder as he made contact. The guy started swinging, his fist connecting with the side of Josh’s helmet. Both men threw their gloves to the ice and squared off. Most of their punches missed at first, but then they grabbed hold of each other’s jerseys.

The crowd was on their feet, cheering them on and the energy pulsed through Josh. He threw a hook shot and got the side of the Penguin player’s face again and again. His eye socket burned as a punch landed there. Before the refs could step in to break it up, Josh’s skate was kicked out from under him and the two men tumbled to the ice, one on top of the other. They were pulled apart as their teammates hit their sticks on the ice in applause.

Josh touched his newly split lip, his fingertips coming away bloody, as he made his way to the locker room, his fighting penalty taking him out of the rest of the period.

The third period was less eventful. Mack tied the game and there was only a minute left, which is why Josh was surprised when Coach told him to get out there with Mack.

Mack gathered the puck in the offensive zone as Josh streaked up the other side of the ice to be on the receiving end of a beautiful cross-ice pass. It seemed easy in a way that scoring goals never seemed easy to him. The puck felt natural on his stick as he brought it under control and then flipped a backhand toward the net. It was as if everyone held their breaths in that moment, collectively releasing them as the light came on seconds before the horn sounded, announcing the end of the game.

Jackets players poured off their bench to swarm Josh at center ice. He didn’t know how he’d done it.

The team skated off the ice, but Josh was held back as the first star of the game. He’d never been first star before and couldn’t help wondering if this was how Mack felt most games.
He
did this.

The crowd died down long enough to hear the announcer start talking. Josh sat next to him on the now empty bench.

“Quite the game, Josh,” he said.

“Thank you.” Josh leaned in to talk into the microphone. “This was a team win tonight.”

“And you played a large role in that with your Gordie Howe hat trick - a goal, an assist, and a fight.”

Josh grinned. “It was a fun one.”

“Well,” the announcer said slyly. “I’m going to ask the question everyone here is wondering. The girl.”

His dimples shone on the big screen of the Jumbotron as his smile widened. “She’s my good luck charm, obviously.”

“I’d say she is,” he laughed. “Thanks for this, Josh. You’re only twenty-one, so I look forward to what you can do if that good luck charm sticks around.”

Josh went back to the locker room where he had to answer some questions from the media before Coach Scott saved him by calling him to his office.

“Shut the door,” Coach said.

Josh complied as Coach sat behind his desk and put his head in his hands. Josh didn’t know what to do so he stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

When Coach finally looked up, his eyes were glassy. Josh was stunned into silence.

“I wanted to …” Coach cleared his throat. “Just thank you, Walker. Thank you.”

“For what, Coach?”

“You brought my daughter back to us.”

“Sir, I didn’t do anything.”

Coach stood and walked around the desk to put a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, Son. You did.”    

Twelve

Josh’s father and brother didn’t wait for him after the game, but he wasn’t surprised. Between talking to the media and showering, it took him about an hour to leave the locker room.

He walked outside next to Mack, who was still ragging on him, but Josh didn’t care. He was riding a wave of confidence that couldn’t be shaken and suddenly knew what he had to do that night before he lost his nerve. It was time to talk to his brother.

“Josh!” Taylor came jogging up behind them and they turned.

Mack threw and arm over her shoulders and leaned in. “You, my dear, just won us that game.” She grinned before brushing him off.

“I told you you could do it,” she said, looking at Josh. “You were amazing.”

“I still can’t believe I played like that.” His smile matched hers.

Mack stood nearby, looking from one to the other in amusement. “Just give her a thank you kiss already.”

Both Taylor and Josh snapped their gazes to him, and he stepped back with his hands raised in surrender. “On that note, I’m going to go.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

“Did you do this for me?” Josh asked, turning his attention back to her. “Coming to the arena, I mean.”

“For you,” she nodded. “And for me. Turns out it was more therapeutic than anything else. It felt good to be back in this world.”

“That’s good.” He wanted to kiss her so badly, to show her what she did for him by just being there. But something held him back. She still wasn’t ready, and he didn’t want to lose her.

Taylor took his hand, threading her fingers through his and started leading him towards a parking garage. “My car’s over here.”

“Taylor, there’s something I have to do tonight.”

She nodded as if understanding exactly what that something was. “I’ll drive you.”

“I may be a while.”

“I can wait.”

The drive to the hotel was only a few minutes, just long enough for Josh’s confidence to start seeping away. They parked, but he didn’t get out. Taylor reached out and stilled the hand that had been drumming nervously on the dash since leaving the arena. His skin warmed under her touch, and his breathing calmed as he looked sideways at her.

“What are we doing here?” she asked softly.

“I …” He leaned his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes. “I have to talk to my brother.”

“That’s what I thought.” She thought for a moment. “Alright, Josh, I’m going to give you a pep talk now. Do I have to call you Walker?”

He laughed despite the weight in his chest. “Whatever you want.”

“Okay then, Walker. You can do this. Just go in and play your game. You know what you’re doing.”

“That’s the worst pep talk ever.” He smiled. “You basically just told me to do what I want.”

“Fine, then how’s this?” She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him closer until she could press her lips against his. She met no resistance as she slid her tongue across his bottom lip and then pulled on it with her teeth. He pressed his tongue forward with a groan.

Josh’s arms slid around her back, but before long she pulled away, resting her forehead against his.

“What was that?” he asked in between heavy breaths.

“Courage,” she whispered, her breath hot on his face.

“Well, none of my coaches ever give pep talks like that.”

“That’s good, considering one of them is my dad.”

He laughed and finally leaned away from her to open the door.

“Go get ‘em, Walker!” she called after him.

The courage she gave him lasted while he walked through the halls of the massive hotel, until he was standing outside the room Ethan had said he was in. It was late, and Josh knew his brother. He knew to expect those little bottles from the mini-bar to be scattered about, and maybe a girl or two that helped drink them. He’d never had any delusions about who his brother was. For a while, Michaela had brought out the best in him, but people will always revert to their true self in the end.

His knock echoed throughout the hall, and he waited. When no one came, he knocked again. A few moments later, the door open, revealing his shirtless brother.

“Josh, I’m glad you came. I wanted to wait for you after the game, but Dad has to be up early tomorrow for his lecture.” He tilted his head to the side as he towel-dried his short blond hair. He backed into the room, but Josh stayed in the doorway. “Are you going to come in?”

“I guess.” He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. To his surprise, they were the only ones there. The suite was huge and surprisingly clean. Ethan’s suitcase sat open in the corner, but that was the only sign he was even there.

“Sorry, I just got back from the gym downstairs,” Ethan said, draping his towel over a chair and digging in his suitcase for a shirt. Pulling it on, he turned back towards his brother. “Josh-”

“I don’t know how to talk to you,” Josh blurted.

“I know.” Ethan sighed. “Me either.”

They stared at each other until Ethan walked across the room. “Can I get you something to drink? By ‘something’ I mean water. My mini-bar is empty so it’s all I have.”

“Already emptied it,” Josh snorted. “Classic Ethan.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about.” An old Ethan look that Josh knew so well crossed his face for a moment, and then was gone. Josh studied his brother. It wasn’t like him to keep a lid on his anger. He’d always had a problem with it.

“Water’s fine,” Josh said, accepting the bottle.

Ethan sat on the corner of the bed, wiping his palms on the front of his pants.

This is just as hard on him as it is on me,
Josh realized, sitting in a nearby chair.

“We just need to do this,” Ethan said after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “We need to have it out.”

“I don’t want to hate you.” Josh’s voice grew thick as the last ounces of control evaporated.

“I’ve been a dick,” Ethan said, keeping his eyes focused on his hands. “I’m still a dick, but I’m working on it.”

“How?”

“The last two years have been the worst of my life.” His eyes lifted slowly until he met his brother’s gaze. “I’m going to tell you everything, Josh, because you deserve the truth. I don’t know what you’re going to think of me when I’m done.”

“I’m listening.” Josh leaned forward with his elbows digging into his knees.

“I’m…” Ethan breathed deeply, gathering courage. “I’m an addict.”

The story came spilling out following that. It all started a few months before Ethan proposed to Michaela at her birthday party. He hurt his back, and over-the-counter pain meds weren’t working. So, a doctor friend of his prescribed Percocet. At first it was just a small dosage, but his back wasn’t feeling any better. He thought he’d be fine if he upped the dose. A few months later, his friend refused to prescribe more and he found other ways to get it.

“I didn’t think it was a problem,” he said. “It was just for the pain.”

He’d already been a pretty big drinker, but he thought he could handle anything. Then Michaela turned down his proposal. He started partying with Meghan, a classmate from high school. She was into harder stuff, but he stuck with his drinking and the occasional pill to get him through the day.

When Michaela took him back, some people thought it was his parents’ pressure that forced him into the relationship, but that wasn’t true. He wanted her to help him.

“I was scared,” Ethan went on. “But I was stuck in this perpetual fog. I had so much misdirected anger. I focused it on her and on you, but I was mad at myself for being so damn weak. She’d always made me a better person, and it wasn’t working this time.”

So Ethan decided to propose again. His family was pleased. Hers was over the moon. None of them knew the truth. If they were married, it’d be harder for Michaela to leave him when she found out the truth. He would finally be able ask for her help.

“Ethan,” Josh spoke up for the first time, reeling in all this information. “You know Michaela. She would have been there for you if you were married or not.”

“But I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Then Thanksgiving came, and Ethan was so nervous to propose that he was not only high, but he’d had a few glasses of whiskey. When it happened, it was like he couldn’t stop himself. He watched himself slam her up against the bookshelf, watched himself hit her, not understanding what was happening.

“If her dad hadn’t found us …” Ethan’s shoulders shook as he held in a sob.

Josh had never seen his brother lose it before. He was always in control - to the point of cold calculation.

“You can’t make excuses for what happened,” Josh said lowly. 

“I’m not,” Ethan yelled defensively, jumping to his feet before bringing himself under control again. He swiped a hand through his hair violently. “There is no excuse. I did it. It was horrible. And then the accident … when I saw her in that hospital bed, that was rock bottom for me.”

Not long after that, the booze and the pills caught up with him as his studies took a hit. He’d been a medical student at Harvard. His grades slipped, until he finally lost his place.

Josh sat in stunned silence, waiting for the end of the story.

“Dad found out and forced me into rehab. That’s why the mini-bar is empty. He cleared it out. I’ve been sober for three months and counting. That’s why I’ve been trying to reach you. I need to make things right.” A sob escaped his lips, and he cleared his throat to cover it up. “I don’t have many people left, but you’re my brother.”

Josh collapsed back into the chair under the weight of his brother’s stare. He opened his mouth to say something, anything. He knew he needed to. This was the time to have the perfect, meaningful words. But none came. Ethan waited anxiously for his reaction.

A number of emotions tumbled through Josh’s brain. An incredible sadness overwhelmed him, but also an intense guilt. This was his brother; he should have known what was going on. He’d been away, following his own dreams, while his brother had been falling into this hole. For the last two years, Josh had been doing everything in his power to avoid him.

Then there was anger. His brother could have asked for help. He could have stopped it before putting Michaela through hell. The drugs and the booze may have been clouding his mind, but it was still his hands that had done the damage.

Ethan held out a hand to Josh, willing him to take it and be his brother again. Josh stared at the open palm and then his eyes followed the line of his arm, across his narrow shoulders, and up into his uncertain face. Josh ignored the hand and it dropped.

Ethan heaved a sigh, his posture stiffening as Josh stood to face him. 

“I’m sorry,” Josh finally said, his voice catching in his throat. “I should have helped you.” He looked away. “I should have known.”

“No one knew.”

“I’m your brother!” Josh’s voice rose and then fell in a single instant. “I’m your brother,” he said quietly this time. “I should have known.”

Ethan put a hand on Josh’s shoulder, but Josh shrugged him off, instead angling his body so he could look his brother in the eye.

“You should have trusted me,” he growled. “For so long, you became a different person. This isn’t only about what you did to Michaela. She actually wants me to forgive you. With or without the drugs, that person is inside of you. The anger. The selfishness. All of it. I love you, Ethan. I even forgive you. But, this …” he wagged his finger from him to his brother. “This, I can’t do. I’m always here if you need me, but we aren’t those kind of brothers. We aren’t friends.”

Josh walked by him, and Ethan didn’t say a word. He didn’t try to stop him as he stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him.

Putting a hand on the wall to steady himself, Josh bent over to force out the breaths clogging in his throat. Tears slid down his cheeks, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. At the end of the hall he slipped into the ice machine’s room, it’s steady thrum providing a sense of comfort as he leaned against the wall and slid to the ground beside it.

He pressed the side of his face to the cold metal and pulled out his phone.

He wanted nothing more than to rush back out to the car. To hear Taylor’s voice. To see her look at him with her wide, sincere eyes. To let her soothe him. But there was someone else he needed to call. Someone who deserved this story more than anyone.

“Hey, Joshy!” Michaela answered.

He responded with a deep sob.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she asked. “It’s Ethan, isn’t it? I know he’s in Columbus right now. If he did something to you, I’m going to kill him.”

The story came spilling out. When he was finished, a stunned silence filled the line.

“Michaela, how could I not see it?”

“You forget,” her voice wavered. “I spent a lot more time with him over that year than you did. I can’t believe this. Was I just too into myself? Did I just want the fantasy of being with him? He changed so suddenly, and I didn’t even consider that something was wrong. What kind of person does that make me?” Her rambling trailed off.

“I didn’t want to dump this on you,” Josh said quietly, thumping his head back against the wall. “I just needed to hear your voice.”