Kinsley fell in love with Phoenix Maverick, an NHL player for a team she never imagined supporting. But when Kinsley suffers from a head injury and forgets the last six years of her life, she struggles balancing being the person Phoenix fell in love...
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I could not afford the sort of distractions that were plaguing me at the moment. The team required one hundred percent focus. But I didn't have one hundred percent because I was thinking about Kins and the fact that I hadn't seen or talked to her.
I was thinking about the phone call with Ash when she told me Kins and Sadie had imploded at each other and were no longer speaking. I was thinking about the fact that I had building consent forms to file and no fiancee to go through the motions with.
It was supposed to be her and I doing those things, creating milestones together. I was thinking about the monumental fuck up I made when I left out the fact that we were building a house when she said no more secrets.
Was it possible to cause more damage if I flicked her a quick message that said, by the way, we were building our dream home together, just forgot to mention that earlier.
Fuck, I was such an idiot and I hated how I'd handled all of this. Not that I knew a better alternative. Couldn't Kins realize that? Realize that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing and cut me some slack for getting it wrong?
I wasn't sure where we stood right now. She wasn't responding to my messages or answering my calls. It was debilitating and I couldn't do debilitating. Not when I had a team that relied on my focus.
It'd been almost a week since our night together in Edmonton. A week of nothing from the woman I love.
We were in Vegas tonight and we'd lost. I'd been told not to shoulder the blame from most of the team, but considering I was the one who had my head up my ass the entire time, my entire body suffering the loss of Kins, it was hard not to feel responsible. It was like a virus and I didn't know how to shake it. I thought I was more professional than this. I thought I was better.
Coach was humming to kick my ass, I could tell, his fists bunched at his side while he screamed and showered me with spit as soon as I left the ice. We were used to getting chewed out and I didn't bother arguing with him about some of the passes I'd made or steals I'd failed. I'd fucked up.
There were a few bars to choose from in our hotel, the Luxor hotel and Casino. It was on the strip about a minute drive to the T-Mobil arena where our game had been. We'd found one of the more subtle bars to have a quiet drink. It looked like a sports bar with flat screens, tiled flooring, exposed wooden ceilings and brick walls. The tables were tall and the stools were made of brown leather. We chose a rounded booth underneath a couple of framed football jerseys.
A lot of the team had decided to go to the casino, drink up and make the most of being in sin city. It didn't appeal to me. Sure, it would've been a good distraction, but that wasn't the sort of distraction I wanted when it came to Kins.
Getting fucked up and gambling had the potential to do more harm than good when it came to a relationship and right now, when things were so unstable, I was choosing to be careful.
