Hard Limit (St. Louis Mavericks 2)

I was so angry and frustrated I didn’t even see him standing there until I practically ran into his solid chest.

“Sheridan. What is wrong?” Lars gently reached out to lift my chin.

“I…nothing.” I swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?”

“N-no. I…can’t right now.” Tears were spilling over faster than I could stop them and Lars caught me around the waist.

“What is it? What happened?”

I looked up into his clear blue eyes and wished desperately that I could throw myself in his arms and tell him everything. But he’d betrayed me too. Not like Vanessa and Hugh, but he’d left me when I needed him most. And for me, that was unforgiveable.

“You lost the right to ask what’s wrong,” I said, stepping out of his embrace even though I wanted him to hold me more than I wanted to breathe.

“I am sorry. I… please don’t cry.” He looked miserable. “Please. Can’t we just talk?”

I shook my head, almost losing my footing as I wrenched open the door to my building.

“Lady, your box!” The Uber driver was coming toward me and I was crying so hard I couldn’t see.

“I’ll take it.” I heard Lars talking to him and then he was holding the door open for me.

“Miss Lee?” Barney was eyeing Lars suspiciously.

“Just give Barney the box,” I whispered through my tears. “Please. If you care about me at all, just leave me alone. I don’t have another fight in me today.”

“Sheridan…” Lars’s voice was a plea, but he didn’t follow me inside.

He was still standing there watching me as the elevator doors closed. And I slid down the wall to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lars

* * *

Mavericks Group Text

Drew: Anyone else thinking about the fact that we’re playing Nashville tonight and Keegan will be on the ice for the first time since he became enemy number one?

Nash: It may have crossed my mind.

Lars: I am looking forward to it.

Wes: Can we handle this shit with no major misconducts?

Boone: Doubtful. But it’ll be worth it, Cap.

* * *

“Want some?” Nash asked, holding out a pack of gum.

I shook my head and went back to staring out the window of the bus that was taking us to the arena in Nashville. I hated gum, and I hated Nashville.

Right now, I kind of hated everything because I was so down and out over losing Sheridan. But even when I was in a good mood, I hated both gum and Nashville.

This city was too much for me. I preferred playing as far north as possible. Canada was my favorite. I loved mountains and trees and cold air. When I retired, I hoped to own a place in either Canada or Sweden.

I’d be living there alone, obviously. My one and only attempt at a real relationship had blown up in my face. I wasn’t sure the dust would ever fully settle.

I’d hoped to apologize to Sheridan and start over. I’d let my inner caveman take over and overreacted to finding out she was married, but separated, from Hugh. The thought of her married to another man had made me too furious to see straight. And Hugh, no less? What the hell? He was the worst kind of human.

She’d been upset about something when I’d seen her outside her building yesterday, and it was eating me up inside that I didn’t know what was wrong. When I’d seen her agonized expression, my reason for being there hadn’t mattered so much anymore.

I’d just wanted to be there for her. And that was big for me, because I’d never truly wanted to be there for any woman before.

“Hey,” Nash said as we pulled into the arena parking lot. “You want me to order some food?”

“Yes. But not pasta this time. The last time you ordered pasta, it tasted like ass.”

He gave me a look. “You’re pretty picky for a guy who’s being waited on, just sayin’.”

“It was disgusting. Do you like to eat ass?”

He smirked at me. “Actually…”

“Fuck you.”

“How many years are you going to be in a bad mood over Sheridan, just so I know?”

“A long time. Before I met her, you were the person I spent most of my free time with. You think I want to go back to that?”

Nash scoffed. “Dude, you are just a straight-up comedian lately. I never forced you to spend time with me.”

“I don’t mean I hate spending time with you. I just prefer Sheridan.”

“So try harder to get her back instead of just pouting like a fucking baby.”

I glared at him. “Do you think if I knew how to do that, I would do it?”

“It’s don’t you think if I knew how to do that, I would.”

“I don’t fucking care; you know what I mean.”

“Give it a rest, you two,” Beau said from the aisle across from ours as the driver parked the bus and people started standing up. “You sound like two grumpy old farts arguing about nothing in a nursing home.”