End Game (Bellevue Bullies 4)

“I do love it, though, and it has you. I won’t have to leave, and we can be together. No time, no space, no nothing between us—”

I shake my head, holding up my hand. “I told you yesterday, and I’ll tell you again. You cannot put me in this equation, and here’s why. You will be blinded by what we have here, how great it is, and you’ll settle. I know you will, and I refuse to allow you to do that. I love you too much, Ryan.”

“Are we ready?”

Ah, the damn waitress.

“Can we get some water, a beer for me, and some more time? We’re in the middle of something.”

She doesn’t even comment. She just walks away, and he looks disgruntled. “She didn’t even card me.”

“Rude,” I say, and then he looks back at me.

A moment passes, and I know he’s trying to figure out his words. He nods his head. “I get what you’re saying, baby. I love you, and I want to be with you—”

“Then maybe I need to step back.”

He pulls in his brows. “What?”

“Take a step back, let you figure out what you want to do with your life. And when you figure it out, we can figure us out. But I told you I didn’t want to be a distraction, and Ryan, that’s what I am right now. A distraction.”

His brows furrow more, and his eyes narrow to slits. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever said. We are not breaking up. That’s dumb.”

“I obviously agree, but you can’t use me as a variable in figuring out what you want. You need to decide, Ryan. What do you want?”

He looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I want you,” he answers before glancing back at me. “I fucking want a life with you in it. Let’s be honest, I have no leads. Nothing, and maybe I’m not cut out for the NHL.”

“Do you truly believe that? What do you love?”

“I love y—”

“Ryan, come on.”

His eyes burn into mine as he presses his lips together. “I love hockey. I love the feel of the ice against my skin when I fall. I love slamming into people, and I love scoring. I love it.” My stomach drops because I really thought it would be the training, but it doesn’t matter. It’s his life, and I’m going to be there no matter what. “But then I love the rush of helping people. Of being there for a team and being in control. I really loved my internship, and I love that it taught me that I can work under pressure. I felt good. I felt like I fit, and I didn’t have to force it. Sometimes, I feel like I have to force it on the ice to be like Shea.”

He is going to kill me. “I—and I’m saying this as a spectator, not your girlfriend—but I love your face when you talk about training. I love how excited you get, and I love your passion. But I also love your passion for playing. Ryan, you blow me away. You’re so talented, and the world is there for you to take. I just need you to realize that, no matter what, you have me. I am behind you, and I love you.”

He leans into me, sliding his nose along mine. “I don’t know how in the world I got you, but I’ll be damned if you don’t make me feel like I’m winning at life.”

I grin, pressing my hand into his cheek. “That’s not me. It’s you. You have everything inside of you to be great. You just gotta decide how to channel that greatness into one thing.”

He closes his eyes, and I do the same. It’s perfect. Just us, exactly how I love it. As much as I want to tell him to take the training job, I’d never want him to tell me to give up my dream of my gym and follow him around the world.

No matter what, he’s part of my end game.

I just need him to realize that.

When he pulls back, a grin is on his lips, “I think—”

But before he can finish, someone yells, “Ryan! Bro!”

His face is blank for a moment until he recognizes the extremely large man who is coming toward our table. Standing up, Ryan holds out his hand, and the man grabs it and they hug tightly. “Mick, man, how’s it going?”

Mick… Oh! Agent.

Mick pulls back, grinning up at Ryan. He’s wearing a very crisp suit and has a long beard, dark-green eyes, and thick, pink lips. “Great. You good?”

“Great,” Ryan says before cupping my shoulder. “This is my girlfriend, Sofia.”

“Ah, the amazing Sofia. It’s wonderful to meet you,” he says, taking my hand, and I flash him my dazzling judges’ smile. “Ryan talks a lot about you.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” I say, but my eyes are on Ryan.

Mick flashes me a grin, but then his attention is on Ryan too. “Dude,” he says then, taking Ryan’s shoulder in his hand. “I was, no shit, walking outside to call you. I just got off the phone with the Ontario Hockey League. They have a spot for you. Problem is, you won’t draft. You’ll go in as a walk-on, and while it’s at the bottom, they feed into the best AHL teams. So, I mean, it’s gonna take some work, but I think you can do it. Five years, tops, and we’ll have you in the NHL.”

Ontario.

Canada, I’m sure.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.