Grabbing my glass from the coffee table in my hotel room, I take a swig of the whiskey I poured an hour ago. I have a strict no-drinking policy during playoffs, but I’ve done plenty of things this week I never thought I’d do, so having a drink after a game seems pretty tame in comparison to the other choices I made.
Two in the morning, and I’m sitting on a couch in Seattle, drinking warm whiskey and scrolling through every picture I have of her while reading every text we’ve ever exchanged, needing to fill the hollow void in some way. I screenshot every one of Stevie’s Instagram photos the night the paparazzi found us before we jointly decided to unfollow each other as a way to keep her name out of the press. I’ve stared at those images this week more times than I could count.
A quiet knock on my door sounds, and like the sad fucker I am, a moment of hope flashes through me, thinking it might be her. But even though we may be in the same city, she’d never come and find me, and I don’t blame her one bit.
Maddison stands on the other side of my door, looking as exhausted as I do, his brown hair disheveled and his eyes laced with sleep.
“Can I come in?” he asks as I open the door. He eyes the whiskey on the table between us. “What happened to your no-drinking rule?”
“Been doing a lot of things I never thought I would. Figured having a drink was nothing in comparison.”
“Pour me one then.” Maddison nods to the bottle.
I grab another crystal glass and pour some warm amber liquid into it. Cheersing, he takes a swig.
“This is disgusting.”
“I know.” Taking the seat on the couch, I lean forward, draping my elbows on my knees with my head hanging low.
“You’ve got to stop punishing yourself.”
My head snaps up. “You think me being too lazy to go get ice is a form of punishing myself?” I blow out a half-hearted laugh.
“That’s not what I’m referring to, and you know it.”
“If you’re here to talk about Stevie, I don’t want to hear it. It’s two in the fucking morning, so you should go.”
“I don’t really give a fuck what you do or don’t want to talk about. I can’t sleep because my best friend is in the worst shape I’ve ever seen him, so yeah, we’re going to talk.”
I lean back on the couch, casually crossing one ankle over my knee before taking a swig of my warm whiskey. And I do it all while wearing a smug as fuck grin, silently saying, Good luck getting me to talk, asshole.
“I fired Rich.”
Well, that’ll do it.
“What?” Leaning forward, I place my glass back on the table before I accidentally drop it in my state of shock.
“I fired Rich,” Maddison repeats. “I’ve been wanting to do it for a while, and that shit he pulled on you with the paparazzi was my final straw.”
“We don’t even know if that was him, though.”
“You know that was him. He’s been getting a side cut for tipping off the press for years. I can’t prove it, but we all know it’s true. It’s the only thing that makes sense for why he wants your name plastered in every headline or why reporters always seem to find you.”
I know he’s right. Deep down, I’ve always known, but it’s never affected me all that much. This time, though, it was too far, and not only did it hurt me, but it hurt the person I care about most.
“I know things are different for you right now with needing a new contract, but Logan and I jointly decided for me to cut ties.”
“He’s never fucked with you, though.” My brows furrow in confusion. “You’ve been successful off exactly who you are.”
“Zee.” Maddison exhales a weary breath. “You’re our family, man, so him fucking with you is the same as if it weren’t happening to me.”
My head drops down between my shoulders as I attempt to hide the glossy film covering my eyes before I nod my head, unable to speak.
Firing your agent is no small feat. Most athletes go their entire career working with the same agent, as long as said agent keeps making you money. Maddison has been extremely successful in the time he worked with Rich, so him doing this for me is not a small act of loyalty by any means.
“You know I can’t do that right now,” I remind him. “Firing Rich would essentially tank my entire career. I’d have to represent myself, and teams can’t talk to me while I’m in season.”
“I know. You’ve got to do what’s best for you, but I want you to know where I’m at. I’m over the whole game we’ve been playing into. You’re as good of a man as me, if not better, and I’m tired of people not knowing that. I’m sorry for playing my role all these years by allowing fans to think I was any better than you. Fuck, you’re a huge reason why I am who I am now.”
A sly smile creeps across my lips as I look at him, needing to break up the serious tone of this conversation.
“What?” he cautiously asks.
“You gonna try to kiss me now after that love confession or what?”
“Dick.”
“Asshole.”
I hold my glass out for him to connect his own. “That means a lot, man. Thank you.” Settling back in my seat, I exhale a deep, resigned sigh. “Regardless of Rich being a prick, I still can’t be myself. Chicago fans don’t want me. The small glimpse they saw had them trolling the internet and talking shit.”
“So go play somewhere else where the fanbase will support you.”
My head jerks back, eyes narrowing.
“You saw a small portion of shitty people online trashing you,” Maddison continues. “Overall, I think any fanbase will be stoked to have the real you, Chicago included, but if you think they truly don’t want you or that you can’t be yourself there, go play somewhere where you can.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Why is he asking? He knows the answer.
“Because your family is in Chicago. I’m not leaving you and Logan. And I’m sure as shit not leaving Ella and MJ.”
“Zee.” Maddison sits forward, his tone completely serious. “It doesn’t matter where you are or what team you’re playing for. You’re always going to be a part of our family. You don’t need my permission to go, but if for some reason you think you do, well, you have it. I just want you to be happy. We all do.”
My chest tightens. It’s something I knew, but it helps to hear it reaffirmed. Especially now, so close to the end of the season, not knowing if it’s my last one in Chicago, and not knowing if I’ll be leaving them in a few short months.
I nod my head repeatedly, unable to speak, emotions thick in my throat. When I look up at Maddison, it seems he’s having the same issue, his brown eyes glossed over as he rapidly blinks.
“Oh fuck.” I laugh to break the tension, squeezing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger. “We’re pathetic.”
“You’re my brother.” Maddison’s voice breaks as he wipes at his face. “Where you live isn’t going to change that. My family will always be yours, but for the first time in a long time, you’ve got your own family. I can’t watch you throw that away because you’re worried about having to move away from us.”
“I can’t take Stevie away from Chicago.”
“Did she say she wouldn’t leave?”