Page 289 of Cross Check
“I appreciate it.” I wipe my eyes. “Sorry for the tears. I’m fragile right now.”
“Now you see why I wasn’t going to let you talk me out of loving Hannah.” He snorts. “I would’ve fought like hell for her, just like you’re going to do for Amelia.”
“I wasn’t kidding. I’m going to find a way for us to be together. There has to be an answer out there,” I say.
“If there is, you’re going to be the one to track it down, Grant. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“Better get out of here before the league descends on the building and tells me I’m in violation of some other made up bullshit rule.” I stand. “See you in a couple days?”
“Chin up, kid.” Coach sticks out his hand, and I shake it. “You’re going to be fine.”
NINETY-ONE
GRANT
MARCH, THIS SEASON
I’ve devoted every second of my life that’s not spent at practice to finding a way to be with Amelia. After a few days of brainstorming and working on my own, I called in my teammates to help.
My obsession with defeating Brad fucking Hollis and having my girl back in my arms is why we’re spending Saturday afternoon in Maverick’s living room with stacks of papers surrounding us.
“I’ve searched ways to take down a professional sports league, like, eight different ways online, and I’m still not getting any answers. Not even Reddit was any help. All they could offer me was suggestions for Dungeons & Dragons.” Ethan groans. “Goddammit.”
“My eyes hurt.” Riley pulls off his glasses and tosses them on the table. “I’ve been looking at my laptop for hours.”
“We can’t stop now.” I flip to the start of the collective bargaining agreement, ready to read through it for a fifth time. “I’m not accepting that the NHL can just force two people to end their relationship when it doesn’t break any laws.”
“I have an idea, but it’s kind of a stretch,” Hudson says, and I look up at him.
“I’m desperate, man.” I scratch my jaw. “I’ll take anything you can give me.”
Desperate is putting it lightly.
I’m fucking heartbroken, and I’ve stumbled into a trance.
I know I’m alive and I know I’m going to practice and I know I’m feeding myself, but it also feels like I’m a ticking time bomb. Seconds away from exploding into a deep state of depression, and I have to figure this out.
Not knowing how Amelia is doing is eating me alive. I’ve been relying on crumbs from Emmy, hearing about practices and how Lia looks that day, but it’s not enough. I need more, and this research has turned into a full-time job.
Hockey can wait.
“Do you know what an addendum is?” Hudson asks, and I shake my head.
“No, but it sounds important,” I say.
“Wait. Isn’t that one of those… nah.” Ethan laughs. “Just kidding. I don’t know what I’m thinking of.”
“An addendum is an addition to a piece of writing that’s already finished. It can fix a mistake or clear up any confusion on a topic by providing new details. You can add new rules without changing the ones in place, and that’s where the definition comes in for you.” He taps his phone and holds up a website. “You could petition the league to add a clause to the CBA that explicitly outlines relationship dynamics. You could include wording that would protect you and Amelia, and if it passes, they’d have no ground to deny you two from being together.”
“They don’t have the fucking ground now,” Liam grumbles. “They want to be dickbags who control our lives when we’re the ones making them money. You could sue.”
“Fuck. You could sue,” Riley chimes in.
“I don’t understand why they care so much, and this addendum thing sounds like a good idea, Hud. And it could benefit people outside of us,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Connor asks.
“In the real world, people who work at companies date each other all the time. Why can’t the league be like that? Are they really assuming no one in the rest of the league’s existence—from players to management to coaches—will fall in love with someone else in the league?” I snort. “That’s a ridiculous assumption.”
