Page 69 of Code Violation

We had both wanted to see two lines on that goddamn white stick. Only I think Vesper hadn’t realized how much she wanted it until she was met with a negative result.

All night, we lay next to each other, Vesper’s face buried in the crook of my neck. And when the sun rose the following morning and I set a kiss in her hair and drove to morning skate, I prayed that she had believed me when I told her that I wasn’t going anywhere.

Turning my attention back to Mason, I know we have around thirty seconds before Coach blows his lid. The next drills are designed to help integrate our defense with Rhys, and Coach needs his captain leading by example.

“Let’s just meet back at my place later.”

Mason looks less than enthusiastic, his bloodshot eyes revealing that he hasn’t had much rest. “I was actually planning to head home and get some sleep. Last night was … well, it wasn’t great.”

“Not great, as in you drank too much?”

He picks up his water bottle and takes another gulp, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth on a deep swallow.

“What time do you want me there?” he asks, voice a touch unsteady.

Setting a reassuring glove on his shoulder, I want him to know there’s no judgment here and that I don’t plan on reaming him out for going through a tough time.

But the cold reality is, if I don’t voice my concerns, then Coach will—or even worse, Theo.

I shrug and push off the boards, and both of us head for center ice. “Seven p.m.?”

He chews on the corner of his mouth guard, top lip curling up.

I point my stick at him. If he’s going to ask about Vesper and the pregnancy, then he can save it. I’m not ready to talk about it yet.

“Just focus on your own shit, Mase, along with what you want me to cook for your dinner.”

“I think I know why my wife left me.”

I pause with a spoon of mushroom risotto to my mouth. “Why?”

Mason chews around his mouthful, motioning to his food with an impressed expression. “I can’t cook for shit, and then you go and serve this delight up for me. Talk about highlighting my flaws.”

Since Mason knocked on my door around thirty minutes ago, I haven’t found a good moment to bring up Eloise. And while I can’t be certain that the demise of his marriage is the reason for Mason’s increased drinking, I’m pretty fucking sure it has something to do with it.

I decide now is a good opportunity to dive a little deeper and try to be a supportive captain. “You know you can talk to me whenever you need. Our friendship isn’t limited to hockey.”

Mason washes down his food with a sip of water, setting the glass back down on the island we’re sitting at. We’ve been playing together for several seasons, and I can’t remember the last time we sat down like this over food and just … talked. One-on-one.

My defenseman’s shoulders slump. “I know, and I appreciate it, man. Trouble is, I don’t know what to say any more about my life.” He blows a breath into his cheeks and steeples his fingers, thinking. “I screwed up with Eloise, and I wasn’t the man she deserved. We were both so desperate for a family, and I dealt with the pain by burying myself in hockey, late nights in the gym, gaming on the PlayStation until the early hours when I should’ve been in bed with her, comforting my wife …” He swallows and shakes his head. “I let her slip through my fingers, and we stopped communicating. I could’ve learned how to cook or made the effort to wine and dine her more often.”

Nothing but silence descends on my apartment before Mason clears his throat and I physically see the way he brushes off the heartache.

Fuck. This guy is going through it. Eyes never lie.

“I’ve found myself drinking more to deal with the pain of losing her. But I know where the line is, and I won’t let it get out of control.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “You know I’ve always enjoyed a beer, and I’ve never let it affect my career.”

I’m nodding in agreement, but I know he isn’t going to like what leaves my mouth next. “Cavendish and Coach are concerned about your drinking. Cavendish allegedly smelled booze on your breath and approached me about it.”

Mason hangs his head between his shoulders. “Fuck.” He lifts his eyes to me. “What did you say?”

I motion between us. “I said that I’d talk to you.”

I sit back in my stool, resisting the urge to fold my arms in a defensive stance. Mason needs to see that he can safely open up to me.

“Remember, I’m on your side, but as your captain, do I need to be worried? We’re having the best start to a season we’ve ever had, and I need to know where your head’s at. But more than that, I care about you, Mase.”

From beside me on the island, my phone buzzes once.