The Best Kind of Forever (Riverside Reapers)
The Best Kind of Forever: Chapter 40

HAYES

I didn’t think I’d be giving the Knights of the Sound Booth another hot headline, but here I am. Deacon and Oliver were kind enough to squeeze me in on short notice, and I gave them box seat tickets for the rest of the season.

After my talk with Bristol, I spent hours and hours trying to come up with some way to show Aeris how real my feelings are for her, and then it hit me.

It might be predictable. It might be over the top. But the message will get to her, and that’s all I need. I don’t care about my reputation. I don’t care about getting traded. The only thing I care about is getting my girl back.

I quell the nervousness bubbling in my gut as the red light in the recording studio blinks to life.

Deacon adjusts his headphones. “Hayes! It’s great to have you back on the podcast, buddy.”

I thread my fingers through my hair and give them what I hope is a friendly enough laugh. “Of course. Thank you for letting me, uh, come on such short notice.”

Oliver nods. “And what’s on the agenda for today?” he asks.

Fear crashes into me like an eighteen-wheeler, and my lower lip is close to bleeding from all the gnawing I’ve accomplished in an alarmingly short time frame.

It’s now or never.

“I’m here to talk about my girlfriend…or ex-girlfriend.”

“I sense a grand gesture coming on,” Deacon says.

“I don’t think it comes to anyone’s surprise that I’m a fuckup. And I fucked up. Really badly. The girl I was seeing—Aeris—I broke her trust. I lied to her, and I ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

I don’t know how many people are watching this live right now, but I’m glad there aren’t any flashing lights or noisy reporters trying to get a word in. The entire room is tranquil, and it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Before Aeris, I never would’ve acknowledged my emotions, let alone admit to the whole world that I messed up. I mean, I lied to the only person I’ve ever loved because I was afraid people would replace out how bad of a person I really am.

Newsflash, Hayes. People make mistakes. I make a lot more mistakes than the average person, but what I do after the fact is more important than whatever dumb shit I did in the moment.

My pulse speeds away like a rogue bullet, the thump of my heart loud enough to drown out the second thoughts creeping through my head.

My next set of words replace no resistance as they flow out of me surprisingly smoothly. “Not only did I lie to her, but I lied to all of you. I rushed into a relationship to save my image. I was getting into so many stupid fights, partying until I blacked out, sleeping with a revolving door of girls. And the icing on the cake was when I slept with a sponsor’s daughter. I genuinely thought my NHL career was going to be over before it started. I had no intention of falling in love. Everything was supposed to be fake, but then things became real, and I didn’t want to give up the girl of my dreams. I convinced myself that it would be best for everyone if I kept the secret to myself, and I shouldn’t have made that decision, because I wasn’t the one affected by it.

“Aeris, if you’re watching this, there are no words to express how sorry I am. If you choose to believe me, just know that I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said to you. From the moment I saw you sitting alone at that bar, I was magnetized by your beauty, and then you pulled me in with that smart mouth of yours, and I was hooked from the get-go. There is not a single thing I regret from our time together. You taught me about patience and understanding and what it means to love wholly—what it means to put another person before yourself.”

I’d convinced myself that I was never going to settle down with anyone. Not just because domestic life wasn’t for me, but because the only girls who have been interested in me thus far were using me for fame. You never really know what a person’s true intentions are. And yeah, I get it, that’s hypocritical coming from me.

The future is uncertain, and I’m pretty sure there was a point in my life where you’d have to pull my teeth to get me to talk about it. Yes, it’s cheesy (and probably unrealistic) to say that you’ve met someone who’s changed your whole outlook on life, but Aeris was that person for me.

Aeris couldn’t escape her past, and I couldn’t escape my future, so we agreed to meet somewhere in the middle and live in the present. And it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. For constantly messing up, the one thing I did right was choose her.

I can’t imagine any other woman taking my last name. Or she can keep hers, or hyphenate, or fuck it, I’ll take her last name. Hayes Relera has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

I’d never want to put her on the spot, especially not over the internet, but I’d propose to her right now if I could. I want to be the only one to promise her forever. And I’d promise her the world if it meant she’d give me the privilege of loving her.

The minute I close my mouth, the whole room grows silent, and I can feel every eye on me—even the ones on the other side of the soundproof window.

I can’t believe I just did that. I’m probably gonna get a barrage of angry calls from both Ethan and Coach within the next few minutes, but it was worth it. When you replace that person who gives you everything, you stop searching for external fulfillment. My heart will always lie with hockey, but now there’s an Aeris-sized space in it. A space that I could never get rid of, no matter the distance or time that passes between us.

ONCE I MAKE my way out of the studio, Coach is blowing up my phone. There’s a fifty-fifty chance that this will be the call about me getting traded, and I let it ring a few times to try and calm my racing pulse.

My hand shakes as I press my phone to my ear. “Coach?”

“Hollings, you’re lucky you’re one of the best players on the team.”

Shit. What does that mean? Is that his way of softening the blow? I don’t regret going live or airing my dirty laundry, but I definitely didn’t think about the consequences in the moment.

My jaw pops open to apologize, but I think twice about interrupting him.

“I just got off the phone with Raymond Talavera. He wasn’t happy, as you can guess,” Coach grumbles, and the lack of blatant anger in his tone is new. However, it’s been replaced with his usual disappointment, which I’m beginning to think is a constant state for him—at least where I’m concerned.

The bowling ball of guilt that’s decided to sit in my stomach rolls slightly.

There’s a pause in his sentence, lending to the all-encompassing silence. The only sound in the parking lot is the tumultuous smacking of my heart against my ribs.

“But whatever you said to Sienna must have worked, because he didn’t pull his sponsorship.”

Relief is the first thing my ears pick up on. Relief so strong that it overpowers the precursory disappointment, and it’s the best-sounding thing I’ve heard in a long time.

“That’s great, Coach,” I reply, keeping my words at a minimum to save myself from any further humiliation. The nerves from before are back with a vengeance.

“I have no idea how the world is going to receive your interview, Hayes. But I am proud of you for coming clean. For admitting everything. That takes guts,” he says with pride. “But I do wish you would’ve come to me first before yapping your mouth.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve. I just—I couldn’t wait.”

“I understand. I’ve been in love before, believe it or not. I’ve messed up like you have, but I wasn’t anywhere near as brave as you to admit when I was wrong. And I paid for my cowardice. I’m glad to see that you didn’t go down the same road I did.”

I’m glad I didn’t either.

“Uh, so just to clarify, I’m not being traded?” I ask, bearing a brutal gust of wind before unlocking my car door and hunkering down to safety.

“No, you’re not.”

I pump my fist into the air before recomposing myself. “Thank you, Coach.”

And in classic Coach fashion, that impenetrable mask of professionalism has sprung back up. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”

I turn my key in the ignition, knowing exactly where my next destination is. With the adrenaline from the interview still thrumming through me, there’s no way in hell I’m going back to the house.

“I won’t,” I promise.

I’ve got my life back, but there’s still a piece missing—the most important piece of all.