Right Man, Right Time
: Chapter 24

“I’ll have the steak as well,” Pacey orders. “Medium. Thank you.” He hands his menu to the server.

“Great. If you need anything else, just let me know. Enjoy.”

Holmes, Posey, Pacey, and I all reach for a piece of bread at the same time. I go with the pumpernickel, Posey dives for the rye, and Holmes and Pacey are stuck with plain.

While we butter our bread, Pacey says, “See that picture Hornsby sent of Holden? His kid is cute as shit.”

Hornsby and Penny just had their baby. We met him the other day, and to our surprise, they named him Holden after Halsey’s brother who passed away. Holmes felt so honored. He even teared up when he held little Holden. It was a nice moment for all of us.

“Of course the kid would be cute,” Posey says. “They’re both really good-looking people.”

“That means shit,” I say. “It’s really up for grabs when it comes to the kind of baby people can make.”

“Thought about it, have you?” Pacey asks. “Considering children with Ollie?”

“Oh fuck, no,” I say, shaking my head. “Neither of us is ready for that. She still has to graduate, and I know her job is really important to her, so she’ll put any sort of child thing on hold for a while. Plus, I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’m barely ready—mentally—for my relationship with Ollie. I mean, I’m getting there, and I think we’re solid, and I trust her, but a baby? I’m not mentally ready for that.”

“What does Ollie want to do when she graduates?” Holmes asks.

“Online contributor,” I answer. “She really enjoys discussing lifestyle-type things. When she graduates, she hopes to receive offers from a few places. Apparently, the guy she’s interning with has a lot of connections. It’s why she’s sticking around with him.”

“Is that going to take her away from Vancouver?” Holmes asks as he sets his butter knife down and then takes a bite of his bread.

“I sure as hell hope not. We talked about how we want to stay together, no matter what happens, and who knows, maybe by the time she graduates, things will be more intense between us.”

“Like wedding bells?” Pacey asks.

“I mean, I could see it happening,” I say, pulling on the back of my neck.

“Really?” Posey asks. “I feel like you’ve barely been together.”

“Is there a certain timeline that has to be followed to have that kind of thinking?” I ask him.

Posey shakes his head. “No, but I’m just surprised is all. You wouldn’t tell us what happened with Sarah, and now that you’re with Ollie, I just want to make sure you’re healed, you know? That you’re not jumping into something too quickly.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” I ask him. “You’re the one who was helping me text her the other day.”

“Ah, so you admit that I was helping you.” Posey points his finger at me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I really hate you. You realize that?”

“Dude, we’re about to have the best steak we’ve ever put in our mouths. Let’s not throw hate out there,” Pacey says. “And to hop on what Posey is saying, I think we just want to make sure you’re okay. We like Ollie, we’ve seen a change in your life since she’s been around, but you can’t fully give yourself to her until you’ve healed. We just want to make sure you’re there.”

“You all feel that way?” I ask.

I glance at Holmes, and he just nods.

“Hornsby, too,” Posey says. “We just care about you.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” I answer, not getting mad at them because how could I? If I were in their position, I’d probably be doing the same thing. “I wouldn’t say I’m one hundred percent, but I’m getting there.” I glance around the table and realize that maybe if I talk about it more, it will help me heal. Clearing my throat, I say, “I haven’t really said anything, but, uh . . . Sarah cheated on me. That’s why we broke up. I caught her with a woman and a man.” That last part stings, and I wait for my guys to react, but when I look up, all I see is compassion in their eyes.

“Shit, dude,” Pacey says. “I’m sorry.”

Holmes grips my shoulder and gives it a squeeze, not needing to say anything, just keeping it at that.

When I look up at Posey, he’s shifting his fork around on the table.

“What’s going on in your head?” I ask him.

When his eyes meet mine, he says, “This might not be what you want to hear, but . . . what a bitch. Does she realize she’ll never replace another man with a Jacob’s ladder piercing? All I can think is big mistake . . . huge.”

What a fucking idiot, but it makes me laugh.

I grip my water and say, “I think you’re right, Posey.”

“I know I’m right. Not many men are man enough to get that done. She’ll regret it.”

“What thoughtful insight,” Pacey says with a hint of sarcasm. He then turns toward me and says, “How are you dealing with getting that off your chest?”

“Seems to get a touch easier every time I say it.” I lean in a little closer so I don’t have to project my voice. “I think I kept it in for so long because it was embarrassing. Like . . . I wasn’t man enough to keep Sarah happy, and she had to go somewhere else to replace that happiness.”

“That’s not on you,” Holmes says. “That’s on her.”

“Was it, though?” I ask. “I know I tried a lot with her, but the season’s strain wore on us year after year. If I supported her, maybe she wouldn’t have strayed.”

“Dude, you were a good boyfriend to her,” Pacey says. “You put in the effort, she didn’t, and I’m not just saying that. I’d tell you the truth if I thought you were at fault. But you weren’t. What Holmes says is right. That was on her, not you.”

“And now she’ll regret it,” Posey says, tapping his nose and winking at me.

Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends with him.

“I think accepting that truth will take me a moment, as well as learning to trust again.”

“Trust is hard,” Holmes says. “Trusting anything, even life.” Quietly he adds, “Not wanting to lose what’s close to you again. It’s tough.”

I know he’s referencing losing his brother, and it’s one of the first times I’ve heard him say anything like that. He normally keeps quiet, especially regarding his brother, which makes me wonder why he’s offering a slight glimpse into that part of his life.

“It is,” I say. “But Ollie is helping me with that trust. She’s patient and understanding. She knows all about Sarah, and she’s reassured me that she would never treat me the way Sarah did. I don’t know, with Ollie, I just feel lighter, more put together, like the worst is over, and now I’m starting to head out of the other end of the dark tunnel.”

“She seems legit,” Posey says. “When she defended you in the bar in front of Sarah, I almost kissed her on the lips I was so pleased.”

“Dude, no,” I say. “Don’t even think about kissing her.”

“I’d never do it.” Posey rolls his eyes. “I was just full of glee that I thought of kissing her.”

“Full of glee?” Pacey asks.

“Yeah, you should know that emotion. You were a gleeful fuck when you first met Winnie. Remember how he slunk around the cabin, chasing after her?” Posey says.

“I did not chase after her.”

We all scoff at that because Pacey was immediately infatuated. None of us were even allowed to consider looking at Winnie.

“I might have followed her, but I didn’t chase,” Pacey clarifies.

“That sounds better,” I say.

“I’m glad she’s everything you’re looking for,” Holmes says to me. “Ollie seems pretty cool.”

“She is,” I say, a smile coming to my face as I think about her.

The last few weeks have felt like a whirlwind, and in some way, we’ve been able to build a foundation together. A foundation of appreciation and friendship. And from there, it’s grown. It’s grown into something I never thought I’d feel again—love for a woman. But even at that, I think the love I have for Ollie is greater and more meaningful than anything I ever had with Sarah. Experiencing both relationships, I can easily say that.

I think Sarah always had one foot out the door, whereas Ollie truly cherishes me. She appreciates me. And she wants me for me, not for the wealth and assets. Sarah, especially later in our relationship, rarely . . . loved on me. It’s completely different with Ollie. And I can’t see her changing because she’s truthful to her core. Sarah isn’t, and I know that now. I can see more clearly how selfish she actually was. Everything is different with Ollie.

The feeling I have when she looks at me.

The emotions I experience when we’re intimate.

And the way I respond to her—when I talk to her, text her—it’s so different from the sense of obligation I had with Sarah. Perhaps that’s from the newness of our relationship, but I feel like an active, willing participant rather than someone waiting for the shoe to drop.

Ollie has awoken me, and I’ll never take that for granted.

I glance up at my friends and say, “Thanks for being there for me. I really appreciate it.”

“No need to thank us,” Posey says, mouth full of bread. “That’s what we’re here for.”

SILAS: You awake?

Ollie: Mmmm, yes. You going to call?

I sit up in bed, the morning light shining in my hotel room, and I go to FaceTime. Last night when I got back to my hotel, it was pretty late so I just called Ollie for a bit, but now that I’m awake, I want to talk to her more. We have time before I need to be at the arena, so I might as well spend some time with my girl.

The phone rings a few times, and then her beautiful face comes into view.

“Good morning,” she says all sleepy-like as she twists in her sheets.

“Morning,” I reply and then notice her bare shoulder. “Babe, are you naked?”

“I am. What about you?”

“I have my briefs on.”

“Take them off,” she says as she slides the sheets down, and I get a front-row seat view of her perfect breasts.

I prop the phone up on the nightstand next to me and shimmy out of my briefs only to drop them on the floor.

“You’re already hard,” she says.

“Woke up with a hard-on. Had a sex dream about you last night.”

“Mmm, tell me what I did,” she says as she moves her hands over her breasts.

My mouth waters from the sight of her. “We were at my place, making dinner together.”

“You don’t know how to cook.” She smirks.

“Didn’t stop me from trying in my dream. You were wearing one of my button-up shirts with nothing else.”

“Sounds about right.” She pinches her nipples, and I grip the base of my erection and squeeze.

“I propped you up on the counter, laid you down, and explored every inch of your body with my tongue.”

“Did you undo my shirt and let it fall open?”

I nod. “Yeah, and I sucked on your tits for what seemed like forever.”

“I love when you do that,” she says as I start to move my hand up and down. “Were you hard in your dream?”

“So fucking hard, like I am right now.”

“Let me see,” she says, her beautiful eyes fluttering open. I take the phone, and I turn the camera around so she can see my hand on my cock, pumping. “God, that’s so sexy.”

“Let me see you touch your pussy,” I say as my grip grows tighter.

She picks up her phone as well and offers me the same angle. Her bare pussy comes into view right before her hand slides over it, and her finger glides over her slit. “Silas, I wish this was your tongue.”

“Me too, baby,” I say as a light sheen of sweat breaks out over my skin.

“What else happens? Did you fuck me on the counter?”

Knock. Knock.

I glance over toward the entryway of my door.

Fuck, is that housekeeping? I put up the do not disturb. They should leave me alone.

“Silas.”

“Huh? Oh sorry, what did you say?” I ask.

Knock. Knock.

“Dude, open up,” Posey says.

“Is someone knocking on your door?” Ollie asks.

“Yeah,” I grumble as I flip the camera around. “I think it’s—”

The door beeps to unlock, and it opens. Posey, Pacey, and Holmes come charging in. I have about two seconds to cover myself up before they see me.

“What the actual fuck,” I yell as I turn the screen of my phone face down so they can’t see Ollie. This is why I shouldn’t give a spare key to the guys. I thought it was a good idea, given I tend to sleep through an alarm occasionally, but this is not cool.

“We need to talk . . .” Posey’s voice dies down as he takes in the scene in front of him. “Uh . . . were you . . .”

I pick up the phone, and luckily, Ollie is covered and waiting for me. “I’ll call you back, babe.”

“Okay,” she says right before I hang up.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask. As my three friends all exchange glances. “What?” I shout.

“Was that Ollie?” Pacey asks.

“Yes,” I say, annoyed. “And you’re fucking interrupting.”

“Sorry, but . . . you need to read this,” Posey says as he walks up to me and hands me his phone.

Completely confused, I look down at the screen and read the headline of an article.

“Even Hockey Players Can’t Have it All.”

Byline: Ollie Owens.

I glance up at them. “Is this Ollie’s article?” They nod. “Well, Jesus, why are you barging in here? I’ve read it already.”

“Have you?” Pacey asks.

“Yes,” I say. “Before she turned it in.”

Posey looks almost gray as he says, “So you were cool with her talking about . . . about what happened with Sarah?”

“Wait, what?” I ask as my heart stills in my chest, all air escaping from my lungs.

“It’s, uh . . . it’s in there,” Holmes says as he pushes his hand through his hair in distress. “How she cheated on you.”

“No, the fuck it’s not,” I say, tossing the phone back. “She wouldn’t have written that.”

“Dude,” Pacey says softly. “It’s in there.”

“Where?” I say, swimming in the lane of denial.

Posey picks up the phone, and he scrolls through it. Then hands me the phone.

My eyes zero in on the start of the paragraph.

And after a long road trip, where the boys are beaten up and ready for a homecooked meal, there’s nothing more they want to go home to than their family and loved ones. Unfortunately for Silas Taters, that wasn’t always the case. The Agitators paint their organization as picture perfect, but when you lift the veil, you’re offered a glimpse into another side of the story, a side where their players can’t seem to make their loved ones happy. It’s probably not the first time this has happened, but it’s the first confirmed time on record that our Agitators aren’t perfect. Silas Taters’s former girlfriend cheated on him.

The phone slips out of my hand as my eyes remain fixed on the spot in front of me.

No.

There’s no fucking way.

She wouldn’t do that to me.

She cares about me. She knows the damage. She understands the trust issues I suffer. She wouldn’t use me as a piece in her article . . . right?

I read through it.

I approved it . . .

And then something sticks out in my head. The day she told me she turned it in, she said she made some changes. Were these the changes?

“Silas,” Holmes says softly. “What can we do, man?”

“I . . . I don’t fucking know,” I say as I lean back on the headboard. “I don’t fucking believe it.” Then immediately, I ask, “Who wrote that? What’s the name on the article?”

“It’s Ollie,” Pacey says. “Byline, Ollie Owens.”

“You told her about Sarah and what happened, right?” Posey asks.

“I did, but . . . she swore she wouldn’t say anything to anyone.” I shake my head, unable to comprehend this. “She wouldn’t do that . . . would she?”

My mind flies fast with ideas, with notions of what could have happened, but out of all of the scenarios, one thing keeps sticking out in my mind . . . her need to prove herself. Her need to do right by Roberts.

My lips roll together as my teeth grind down.

“Silas . . .” Posey asks.

“She wouldn’t fucking dare,” I say, rage taking over the shock.

“Tates, maybe we get you out of bed, showered, talk about this,” Pacey suggests, but I shake my head.

“No, I need you to leave. Right fucking now.” My fists clench at my side.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Holmes says.

“I said fucking leave,” I yell, startling all three of them.

Pacey nods his head toward the door, and Holmes follows him. Posey hangs back for a second and says, “I’m here for you, Silas. If you need me, you just ask.”

I don’t say a word, I just stare at my phone, rage beating through me. What if this was Sarah? What if she had something to do with it?

Or what if . . . the girl I thought I fucking loved has decided to fuck me over . . . just like Sarah?

I whip off my covers and go to the shower, my anger so heavy in my chest that I feel like I can’t breathe. I can only imagine what the comments section is saying, what other news sites are going to read the article and then toss their own spin on me. Because that’s what they do. One article comes out with the news, and the rest just circulate it with additional “facts.”

So now everyone will fucking know about my private life.

Everyone will know the kind of man I am.

How I can’t make a woman happy.

How I’m a fucking loser who a girl cheats on.

My biggest, darkest, most embarrassing part of my life is now out on display. I’ve been played for a fool again. She came after me, pushed me . . . all to get fucking ahead in her career.

I slip into the shower once the water is warm, and instead of washing my body off, I feel myself lean against the tile as I try to catch air into my lungs.

Fuck, how could I be so stupid?

She’s used me from the very beginning.

From the very fucking beginning, and I chose to look past it.

I slide down to the bottom of the shower and push my hands through my hair as the water surrounds me. My eyes well with tears, and as I curl my fingers into fists, I feel my tears fall. Nothing feels worse than this. Ollie swore she’d never cheat on me, and perhaps that was true. But her promises didn’t extend to using me for her career, did it? No one had to know about what Sarah did, and their ignorance meant I was saved from the embarrassing scrutiny.

And my heart? It feels as though it’s been ripped right out of my chest.

I’ve given Ollie so much of myself, things Sarah never knew about. I was ready to see a new future. A happier future. But that was only possible through trust. And trust has once again been shattered.

Sarah might have bent me, but Ollie . . . she just fucking broke me.