Off Season (Off #6) (6 page)

I’m surprised
when Renner reaches over and slaps Cillian on the arm. He yelps and
shrinks back from her, gingerly rubbing his skin.

“What the hell
was that for?” he asks with a grimace on his handsome face.

“You’re
telling her to give up. You never do that. Not when love is
involved,” she says primly. Turning to look at me, she says,
“You need to figure out a way to make it work.”

“Whoa, wait,”
I say, holding my hand out and sitting up straight on the couch. “Who
said anything about love? I don’t love Zane.”

“Maybe not,”
Renner clarifies. “But you have feelings for him, right?”

Sinking back down
with another dejected sigh, I admit, “Yeah. I do. But as
Cillian pointed out… I’m here—he’s there.
Can’t work.”

“Let’s
back up a minute,” Cillian says, leaning further away from
Renner in case she decides to slap him again. “I don’t
get how you can really have feelings for him. You spent one night
together.”

That’s true
enough. I spent one night with Zane and although no one knows the
gritty details, Renner, Cillian, and Teagan all know that we were
intimate with each other.

“We’ve
stayed in contact since then. We email each other every day, and we
talk on the phone. He called last night, and we talked for two
hours.”

“Sounds
romantic,” Renner says dreamily.

“Sounds
unsatisfying,” Cillian grumbles. “You can’t have a
relationship with someone if you can’t be physically with
them.”

“I disagree,”
Renner says. “Sex isn’t everything.”

Cillian does nothing
more than turn his head slowly toward Renner, cocking his eyebrow at
her. She holds his gaze for a moment, and then lowers her eyes in
defeat.

“What I’m
saying,” Cillian continues as he turns back to look at me, “is
that you need the physical side to maintain true intimacy.”

“Otherwise,
all we are is just good friends,” I finish for him, because
he’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.

These past several
weeks have gone by quickly. I’ve been immersed in my studies
and spending my free time hanging with my friends. That means going
out to pubs or shows with Teagan, Renner, and Cillian, but that also
means emailing or talking to Zane on the phone.

Since we agreed that
we could only be friends, Zane stayed true to his word and did prove
to me that guys can indeed have friendships. We have continued to
grow closer and closer, forming a bond over exchanged words,
memories, stories, thoughts, and philosophies. One night, we talked
for over an hour on the concept of euthanasia, brought on by Zane
telling me about one of his uncles that died last year after having
suffered for months with terminal cancer. I’ve never talked
about something like that with anyone in my life, particularly
because we disagreed on the moral issues. But it was one of the
deepest connections I’ve ever made with someone… talking
about life, death, and pain.

It made me ache to
get even closer to Zane, but the only way to make that happen at this
point is for me to see him in person. And we both know that’s
not happening.

“Listen,
Cady-girl,” Cillian says as he stands up from his chair. “I
know this sucks for you, but you either need to accept that Zane is
just a friend, or you need to cut him loose completely. You’ll
never get out and find your soul mate as long as you’re still
yearning for him.”

“Or just
accept he’s your soul mate and do something about it,”
Renner chimes in.

I open my mouth to
say,
He’s not my soul mate
, but then snap it shut just
as quickly. I don’t know what Zane is to me, but I know he’s
so much more than just a friend. I just haven’t figured out how
to reconcile that.

Cillian and Renner
stay for another beer, and we thankfully move on to another topic. I
sit back on the couch and watch as Renner and Cillian argue about
whether Renner should get a job or stay free to be able to tour with
Cillian’s band. It’s an argument I’ve been privy to
before, but I’ve always wisely kept my opinion to myself. I
know, as a modern woman, Renner wants to work and contribute
financially, but I also know she’d be miserable without
Cillian. She should just do herself a favor and commit to going out
on tour with him.

After they’re
gone, I complete my nightly ritual. I wash my face, apply
moisturizer, and brush my teeth. Making myself a cup of hot tea, I
place it on my nightstand beside my bed, where I’ll sip at it
while reading Zane’s latest email.

No matter where he
is or what he’s doing, he always has an email or a text waiting
for me before I go to bed. I’m not sure how he quite swings it
with his busy schedule, particularly since he has started his regular
hockey season, but it’s almost always there.

Yes, our emails,
texts, or calls have turned into almost daily conversations.
Sometimes, one of us will miss a day, or it may only be a short
message, but it’s something I look forward to more than I care
to admit.

To: Cady Dunne

From: Zane Kavanaugh

Subject: You Are Just Too Much

Date: October 29, 2014

I’m getting
ready to head out to the airport to catch the team plane soon, but
had to get off this email so it would be waiting for you when you
went to sleep. I got your package in the mail today and as my subject
line says, “You are just too much.” I seriously cannot
believe you sent me that hat. Where in the fuck did you find it,
first of all, and second… why would you buy something so
hideous? I am now on the hunt to outdo you, so be expecting something
in the mail soon.

Gotta go. I
assume you’re going to watch tomorrow’s game since it
will broadcast early evening there, right? I’m not sure why,
but I think I play better when I know you’re watching me.

Yours,

Zane

I take a moment,
bringing my fingers to my lips to feel the curve of the silly smile
on my face. I think about the hat that I sent Zane, and then I start
to snicker to myself.

Week before last,
Zane scored a hat trick against the Rangers. I’ve come to learn
a lot about hockey since meeting him, and I’ve been fortunate
that Setanta Sports broadcasts live NHL games, and even more
fortunate that Da carries that package at his pub, The Hibernian.
I’ve watched as many of Zane’s games that I can, sending
him texts with my thoughts as I cheer him on from Ireland.

When he scored a hat
trick, I had no clue what that was, but a quick Google search on my
phone yielded the answer. That night, I found the perfect gift to
congratulate him, and had it shipped directly to his house. It was a
black velvet top hat… the kind you see magicians wearing.
Perched on top was a deranged-looking, white, stuffed rabbit whose
eyes looked slightly maniacal and whose buckteeth hung halfway down
its chest. When you pushed on his belly, he squeaked out,
“Abracadabra,” and then giggled hysterically.

He clearly enjoyed
my gag gift, but that’s not what’s making me smile.

I’m smiling in
a wholly satisfied way because of the way he signed off on the email.

Yours,

Zane

Yours.

I liked that a lot.

Zane

November

“Dude…
what the fuck is your problem? I think you need to see the team
doctor,” Niko says as he takes a sip of his beer. He has a
gorgeous brunette perched on his lap, and his hand is inching its way
up her leg. She doesn’t seem to mind but rather spreads her
legs apart a bit.

“The team
doctor?” I ask blandly, and then drain the last of my beer.
Raising my hand toward our waitress who is walking by, I try to catch
her attention that I want another but, sadly, she ignores me.

“Yeah…
I think your pecker is broken or something. You don’t seem to
be interested in the ladies anymore.”

Snorting internally,
I reach into my wallet to pull out some cash for when she comes back
by. I don’t bother answering Niko because I know he’s
just busting my chops.

He dislodges the
girl from his lap, and she walks off toward the bar. Leaning in
toward me, he whispers. “Wait a minute? Are you gay or
something? Is that why you haven’t been fucking around with
women anymore?”

I quirk an eyebrow
at Niko and give him a smirk. “Not gay, dude.”

“Then
seriously… what’s the deal? You hardly ever go out
anymore, and when you do, you spend most of your time on that phone
of yours.”

He’s talking
about my obsessive checking of my emails and texts, waiting for Cady
to respond to my latest and greatest. Our chatter back and forth is
almost constant now, and while we don’t talk on the phone as
much as we email and text, it’s still amazing conversation all
of the time.

“I haven’t
been going out a lot because I’ve been trying to cut down on my
drinking. I’m in the best shape of my life, playing the best
hockey of my career. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Fine,”
Niko says as his eyes dart around the little bar that we frequent
when we’re back in Phoenix. It’s always been a place that
we could come to and easily score a quick fuck if that’s what
we wanted. “But it still doesn’t explain why the few
times we do go out, you leave all alone. You thinking of becoming a
priest or something?”

“No, dude,”
I say with exasperation, my fingers itching to pull my phone out and
send a quick text to Cady. “Just not interested right now.”

“You’re
not interested in pussy?” Niko asks skeptically.

“No,” I
say, and then correct myself. “Yes. I mean, I’m
interested in pussy, just not the type here.”

“Then let’s
go somewhere where there is your type,” he says as he stands up
from the table. He’s swaying slightly so I know he’s on
the verge of a rip-roaring drunk fest.

For a split second,
I consider what he’s saying. I told him I’m not
interested in anything here because I’m only interested in one
girl that lives across the Atlantic Ocean. But as I look around the
darkened bar, with the jukebox blaring some country song I don’t
recognize, I realize there are several gorgeous women here that look
like they’d be great fucks.

B.C.—that’s
Before Cady—I wouldn’t have left this bar without one of
them on my arm. Hell, sometimes I would have just taken them in the
back alley and fucked them up against the wall.

A.C.—that’s
After Cady—I haven’t fucked a single woman, and my balls
have turned the color of a Smurf.

Not sure why I’m
imposing this bit of celibacy on myself because Cady and I don’t
have anything more than a friendship. She would not expect me to
abstain, and fuck… she’s still seeing that douchebag
Colin, the architect. While she doesn’t share a ton of details
with me, she’s let it slip a time or two when they’ve
gone out to dinner or for drinks. It fucking burns me up and makes me
want to go screw my way through North America, but I haven’t
yet.

And that’s
only because my gut instinct tells me that she hasn’t been
intimate with him. I have no proof of that, but I don’t think
Cady likes him in that way. Hell, I’m not sure she likes him at
all, or otherwise she’d tell me more about him, right?

I mean… she
doesn’t hesitate to tell me when her period cramps are dragging
her down, so why wouldn’t she share details of this dude with
me?

“Come on,
Zane… let’s fucking party tonight and get laid,”
Niko says with a cheesy grin on his face. “I bet that girl over
there with the long, blonde hair and super huge tits would give you a
blow job in the men’s bathroom.”

My eyes cut over to
the woman he’s talking about. She stares candidly back at me,
even going so far as to let her eyes graze down my body while she
licks her lips. Yup… she’d blow me no doubt and for the
first time since A.C., I actually consider it. It’s not like
I’d be doing anything wrong.

My phone vibrates in
my pocket, and my hand dives in to grab it out. I just received a
text message and although it could be from any number of people, my
hope is that it’s from Cady.

Bingo!

Just got in from
the worst date in the history of the world. I am swearing off men!

I can’t help
the smile that pulls my lips upward, and I stand from the table. “I’m
going to head out,” I tell Niko as I start to walk by him, but
then I hesitate. Eyeing him up and down, I ask, “You’re
taking a cab, right?”

“Seriously
dude? You’re leaving?” he asks in astonishment.

“Yup. Got
something I need to do,” I tell him, and then add on a warning.
“Don’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”

Niko grimaces, but
then gives me a sloppy salute. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out
his keys and tosses them to me. “I’ll get a cab. You take
my car home, and I’ll get it off you tomorrow.”

Slapping him
playfully on the shoulder, I accept the keys gratefully. I’ve
only had two beers and I’m fine to drive, so this works out
well. “Later, man.”

As I step out into
the parking lot, I hit Cady’s name in my favorites list. After
I hear the clicking sounds that initiate an international call, her
phone rings twice before she answers.

“So tell me
about this worst date in the history of the world,” I say as I
walk toward Niko’s car.

Cady gives a
dramatic sigh and I can almost envision her flopping down on her
couch, maybe tucking a pillow up against her stomach while she chats
with me. “I broke it off with Colin, and let’s just say
he didn’t take it well.”

My heart soars with
joy over this revelation, and I try to keep my voice neutral as I
unlock the driver door. “Why? What happened?”

Cady’s silent
for a moment, and I imagine her twirling a finger in her hair. It
kills me that I can’t see her right now, so I could know
exactly what little habits she has. I know a lot about her, but not
nearly enough.