Page 81 of The Game Plan

“You’re lying on the ice,” Tray says.

“Getting soaked through,” TJ adds.

I open my eyes to the three of them standing over me. “I’m in trouble, boys,” I tell them.

“We could have told you that six weeks ago,” Zach adds, skating to a stop above me.

“Unhelpful,” I tell him as he and TJ offer a hand each to pull me up.

On my feet, they all face me. “Supposing I want to stay married. How do I make my wife want to stay with me?”

“Ask her on a date?” TJ suggests.

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

He shrugs.

“Helpful,” I tell him. Then I look to Suzuki. “What you got for me, Zuke? Anything?”

“How the fuck would I know? Like, buy her a purse or something?”

“I don’t think that’s going to cut it, Zuke.”

“Puppy!” Tray says.

“A puppy?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’m telling you. Amelie and I were on the rocks once. Like, big style. I deserved it. Took her for granted. Was on the road all the time. All the things. Anyway, I bought her a puppy. I wrote a note telling her I was sorry and I understood how she felt, then I put it in a locket around the puppy’s neck and… boom. We’re ten years later.”

“That’s how you ended up with four dogs?” I ask.

“Captain fucks up a lot,” Suzuki says, and despite my mood, I can’t help but smile.

“A puppy.” I shake my head. “Thanks for nothing, boys.”

* * *

Hours later, I’m sitting on the plane to Columbus, staring at Sienna as she annihilates the guys at cards. She’s kicking my butt too, which is unsurprising because my head isn’t in it at all. It’s a game that passes the time on our road trips and for me, stops me from overthinking our next game; even though anyone would say I don’t overthink anything, I do. Especially my performance on the ice.

Today, though, nothing is stopping my thoughts from spiraling through the reasons Sienna has avoided me since the charity gala two nights ago – she had Pilates and work meetings late into both evenings, apparently. Meanwhile, I can barely function over here, thinking about how it felt to be in bed with her, finally, to wake up with her in my arms, and how I want so much more from her. Worrying that Mitch’s phased return to work starting on Monday is the beginning of the end of my messed-up marriage. One I don’t fully remember getting into but one I’m desperate to keep.

I’m running out of time to tell Sienna how I feel. More necessary, prove to her that contrary to popular opinion, even my own opinion six weeks ago, I am husband material.

Hell, maybe I’ve already played my best card. I’ve shown her my top moves in the bedroom and she’s… avoiding me?

Jesus. I push my head back into my plush charter sheet and rake the hand that’s free of my fan of cards down my face, forgetting myself, getting lost to exasperation and the stress of wondering why someone like Sienna would want to be with a guy like me forever, even if I can find the courage to tell her that I am head over fucking skates for her.

“Jax? Are you okay?” she asks, dragging my thoughts back to the table. I glance to Tray, TJ, Suzuki, Zach and receive a tut, an eye roll, wags of heads. Yeah, they think I need to grow a pair, too.

“Come on, puppy,” Suzuki says. “Your turn.”

He means lovesick puppy but he’s thrust me back to Tray’s comment on the ice yesterday – would I prove I’m in a relationship for the long-haul if I bought us a dog? Maybe it’s not the worst idea. Provided it didn’t chew and shit in my condo.

“Sorry, I was running over my last game.” I look at the cards on the table and do a mental catch up, then take my turn. Sienna goes next, then she’s scrutinizing me, asking me what’s up.

You, Si, I think. You’re always what’s up these days.

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