Hat Trick (Fake Boyfriend 5)
Page 78
“It came with a no-trade clause. I have Damon and Ollie close by in New York and a good support network. Thinking about getting traded makes my stomach twist.”
“I get it. Being traded could be great or it could be bad, but it’s the not knowing that’d kill you.”
“Exactly. I figure it’s better to stay where I am, but now there’s extra pressure.”
“Is … is that all that’s been bugging you?” I have a gut feeling he’s holding something back.
“Yeah. I’m just … reassessing. Maybe I need to accept that this could possibly be my last season.”
I’d totally be okay with that, but I can’t say that to him.
“Are you ready to retire?” I ask because that feels like a safe thing to say as opposed to “please retire and be my tour bitch forever and ever.”
“No? Maybe? I don’t know. I want to retire on my own terms—when I’m ready. Not when they tell me I’m too old to keep up. Sometimes I think I’ve had a great career and should get out while my body still works. Other times, I think I can’t quit until I have that championship title. When we made it to the Cup final a few years back, it was the closest I’ve ever come to winning it. I got a taste and thought it would happen for the team, but the last few seasons, we’ve barely made it to the playoffs let alone to a championship. I really want that win.”
I can’t take that away from him just because I’m falling hard and want him to follow me around the world on tour.
I want Soren with me for that but not at the cost of him saying goodbye to the career he’s been working at since before I was even born. “Then you should forget about next year for now and go focus on the win. Keep going until you get it.”
Soren leans in to kiss me. “I should be thankful they’re offering me anything with how crappy the last few seasons have been. Plus, I’m old.”
I snort. “So, so old.”
“Shut up.”
“Kiss me.”
Soren exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. “If I have to.”
“Whatever, you love it.” And so do I. Probably too much considering I have to say goodbye to him after the Ottawa concert in three more days.
I become a different person on stage, and no matter what has been going on in my life, I’ve always been able to tap into that. Sleazy managers, loneliness, forced breakups, I’ve been able to hide them all and do what I have to do on that stage.
But during the Ottawa concert, knowing tomorrow morning Soren gets on a plane, I can’t summon it.
I hit the right notes, I play the right chords … there’s just no heart in it.
Benji can tell and sends me questioning looks throughout the set, but about halfway through, he gives up and decides he needs to perform for both of us.
His over-the-top antics are a welcomed sight because they’ll at least take some of the focus off how I’m fucking this up. They also make me laugh, so, hey, at least I’m bringing some personality to the stage.
In between songs, Benji takes his shirt off, and the crowd screams so loud I have to wonder if Harley is commandeering the stage again. But no, it’s because my bass player’s abs and muscles are on display.
Can’t say I’m complaining. Benji is hot and nice to look at, and he’s the perfect distraction for the crowd right now.
I sweat so much onstage that I generally change my shirt about now, but I can see Luce in the wings, scowling at me, and I don’t wanna have to go and explain myself.
But when I look over there again, Soren has joined him. In the eight weeks he’s been on tour with us, he’s never once watched the show from the wings. He’s always down in the front and off to the side, just inside the barricades that keep the audience in their place.
Soren’s brow is scrunched in worry or confusion, so after I finish the next song, I run offstage and hand Luce my guitar while I strip off my shirt so I can assure them I’m fine even though I’m not.
“What is going on out there?” Luce asks.
“My head’s not in it.” I throw a fresh shirt over my head.
“Since when does that ever stop you?” Ooh, yeah, Luce is pissed.
“Can we have a sec?” Soren asks Luce.
“Literally a second. He needs to go back on.”
Soren steps closer as Luce moves away. “Baby?”
The term of endearment makes tears spring to my damn eyes. “I’m fine.”
“I was kinda hoping the last show I’d get to see would be more energetic.”
I laugh. “Way to kick me while I’m down.”
“What can I do to make this better?”