Off Season (Off 5.5)

"Go on," I say with exasperation. "Just get it out."

"He's nice," Renner says amiably and takes a tiny sip of her beer.

"Nice?" Cillian says as he swivels his head toward her in surprise. He's growing his dark hair out again, which better fits with his rocker persona. I swear I think I saw Colin wrinkle his nose in distaste when he took in Cillian with his long hair, tattoos, and multiple facial piercings. "That guy's a dolt. Boring with a capital 'B'."

"Well, I was trying to be nice." Renner giggles at Cillian and then turns to me. "Seriously, Cady... he is so not your type."

Sighing, I kick my feet up on my coffee table and pull at the label on my bottle of beer. "I know. I keep expecting my feelings to warm up toward him with each date, but nothing. I don't feel a damn thing for him."

"Probably because you are feeling something for someone else," Cillian says matter of factly.

"Not true," I immediately deny out loud, even though I know he's hit the nail on the head.

"So true," he affirms. "You got hot hockey player on the brain, Cady girl."

"Just admit it," Renner says with a smirk. "We all know it's true."

And because these are two of the closest people to me, outside of Teagan, I decide not to lie to them. "Fine. It's true. So what?"

Neither Renner nor Cillian say anything, just watch me with intense interest.

"What?" I exclaim. "You're just going to out me like that and then offer no advice?"

Cillian leans forward in his chair and places his beer bottle on my coffee table. His eyes look at me seriously. "You need to find a way to get over him, Cady. He's there... you're here. There's nothing to pine over. It's not going to work."

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.

&

nbsp; 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.

Chapter 8

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."