Frozen Hearts

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Note from the Publisher

Dedication

Trademarks Acknowledgement

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

About the Author

Also by Teegan Loy

A Silver Publishing Book

Frozen Hearts

Copyright © 2013 by Teegan Loy

E-book ISBN: 9781614958925

First E-book Publication: March 2013

Cover design by Reese Dante

Editor: Jamie D. Rose

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to [email protected].

This book is written in US English.

PUBLISHER

www.SPSilverPublishing.com

Note from the Publisher

Dear Reader,

Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

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Thank you for not pirating our titles.

Lodewyk Deysel

Publisher

Silver Publishing

http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

Dedication

This story is for everyone who shares my obsession of boys and hockey, but especially for Dawn who listened to me cry, brag, and worry about this story. Thank you, dear friend, for sticking by me and always offering an encouraging word when I need one or two.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Lego:
Lego Juris a/s Corporation Denmark

Zamboni:
Frank J. Zamboni & Company, Inc.

Oreo
: Mondelez International Inc / Kraft Food Global Brands LLC

Tweet / Twitter
: Twitter, Inc.

pTumblr
: Tumblr, Inc.

Facebook: Facebook, Inc.

Chapter 1

There were currently twenty-five guys piled on me, shouting at the top of their lungs. My face was smashed into the cage of my helmet and my arm was crushed beneath me. I could barely breathe and yet, at that moment, I was the happiest I had been in a long time.

My college hockey team was the best in the nation. National champions. It had a nice ring to it and it was a beautiful way to end a college career. Everything was a blur of hugs, back slaps, and handshakes. In the next fifteen minutes, I was announced as the most valuable player and handed the national trophy. After everyone had a turn with the trophy, we skated around the rink, met in the middle, and jumped on top of each other for a team photo, capturing the moment forever.

Then it was over and I was sitting alone in a dimly lit locker room still in my gear, hiding from the future. The moment I stepped out of this room, the world would come down on me. Everyone thought they owned a part of me. Throughout my entire hockey career, my father took all the credit for my success. His standard answer was that he groomed me for this part. My mother was just as bad, maybe worse. She was a smiling extension of him, but her silence spoke volumes to me. She backed everything he'd done to me and was still doing.

Last year after my team lost in the Frozen Four, I decided to come back for my senior year. My dad was not pleased and I started to question my decision when the fans, some coaches, and the journalists all said that the success of the season rode squarely on my shoulders. It was ridiculous to think that one person could carry an entire team. Before the season started, I had a private meeting with my teammates and asked them to ignore the media. They all agreed. I was especially thankful for them when I had a bad stretch of games in the middle of the season where I couldn't find the net. They closed ranks and refused to place the blame on me, saying that I wasn't the only one who needed to score. We won as a team and we lost as a team.

Now Boston owned me and wanted me to come finish the season with them. I was exactly five weeks away from graduating with a four year degree and some pro hockey team wanted me to throw away an entire semester. I'd worked hard for my degree and tossing it away to go play hockey seemed like a waste.

Everyone was going to think I was off my rocker, that I'd taken a few too many punches to the head, but they didn't know my story. They didn't know the secret I carried. It ate at me, taking a little more of me with each new lie I told. I couldn't do it anymore. When the final buzzer sounded and my teammates smothered me, I decided I needed to take control of my own life. No one was going to make my choices anymore and once I made this choice public, I was going to lose a lot of friends and fans.

I wandered through the next few days, managing to avoid the real world by telling everyone I deserved some time off to celebrate the long season and hard fought victory. My dad vocalized his displeasure loudly. I wanted to laugh in his face, because little did he know this was only the beginning.

We'd been back on campus for three days and the pressure to make my decision public weighed heavily on me. The trophy was safely stored behind glass for the entire campus and community to view. The final skate for the team had just ended and once again, I found myself sitting in another deserted locker room. My dark hair hung in my face, hiding my grey eyes that kept filling with unwanted tears. I swiped at them and concentrated on cleaning the moisture off my skate blades before I tossed them into my bag. My locker stood empty, making it official; I was no longer a member of the best college hockey team in the nation. Some new kid would come take my spot and my college career would exist only in pictures and on paper.

"Hey, Foxy," Brett Cooke, my wingman for the past three years said as he sat down next to me.

"Christ, Cookie, I thought everyone left."

"What are you still doing here?" He asked.

"Letting go."

"You okay, man?" Cookie asked.

"Yeah, I'm cool. I can't believe it's really over."

"I heard on the news that Boston wants you now," Cookie said.

I shrugged and retied my shoelaces.

"Oh shit, Foxy. You're not going are you?"

It wasn't really a question I needed to answer. I could tell Cookie already knew. I settled on another shrug.

"I don't know what the fuck you're giving it up for, but I think you're absolutely fucking crazy, Foxy, because I don't think you'd even see the minor leagues. Seriously, man, have you thought this all through?" He shook his head. "I never did understand you, but I guess this is your decision."

"Thanks, I think," I mumbled.

"I'm heading over to the blue house for one final party. You want to come along? I heard there'll be a plethora of babes," Cookie said as he stood up.

"Plethora?"

Cookie punched me in the arm and laughed. "Yeah, I heard it in class today."

"You went to class?"

"I'm not coming back next year—thought I should at least make an appearance."

"So, Phoenix in the fall," I said grinning. I really was happy for him. Going pro was all Cookie talked about from the first day he walked into the locker room.

"Guess so. I'm sure they'll ship me off to Portland, but it'll be fun to hang out with the big boys for a few days."

"Don't sell yourself short; you're a big boy too," I said.

He grinned. "So you want to come to the party? It's going to be legendary."

"Thanks, Cookie, but I've got to be somewhere." I'd had enough blue house parties to last a lifetime. But when things went to hell tonight, I knew I had an option where I could drown my sorrows or whatever else needed drowning.

"See ya round, Foxy," Cookie said as he opened the door.

I gave him a quick wave and shoved the rest of my equipment into my bag.

"Hey, Erik."

The use of my given name stopped me cold. Hockey players didn't believe in using real names. Half the time, I didn't find out anyone's real names unless I looked in a program or listened to the play-by-play from a game. I stood up and faced him.

"It was a great fucking ride. I loved playing with you. You made me a better player. Good luck."

"You too," I said and shook his hand. The handshake ended in one of those awkward man hugs. I leaned against the door and watched Cookie disappear down the long dark hall.

It was time for me to go. I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and headed out the door. The lonely roar of the Zamboni echoed through the empty arena and I couldn't resist taking one more walk down the tunnel to the bench.

I leaned against the boards and sighed when I reached into my pocket, slowly pulling out a small black box. How did I let things go this far? Right at the beginning of playoffs, my parents decided to jump all over my case about Rochelle. It was just easier to agree with them and now, across campus, sat a pretty blonde waiting for me to come and propose. Everything was a formality. Rochelle wanted to get married. Obviously my parents wanted the marriage and her parents thought it was time we made it official. Her two brothers wanted the marriage because they figured free hockey tickets would come with it. Fuck, even the jeweler who sold me the ring winked at me and said marriage was a great idea. Everyone wanted the marriage.

Everyone except me.

"Shit," I muttered and opened the box. The fluorescent lights made the diamond glitter, splashing small shiny dots all over the boards. The box slipped from my hands and the ring fell to the ground. The world tilted and I gripped the edge of the boards, bumping my cheek when I laid my head down.

The Zamboni roared by me and Karl shouted something, waving when I lifted my head. Karl probably thought I was saying a final farewell to the arena. He'd been cleaning the ice for years and had seen so many players come and go that he knew the routine. There was always one who had a hard time letting go. I grabbed the ring and shoved it back into my pocket.

There were no fans screaming my name when I left the rink for the last time as a player.

Twenty minutes later, my shoulder ached from the weight of my equipment bag and I was half frozen. I'd walked by Rochelle's apartment four times, but the thought of facing her made me sick. When one of her roommates came racing out the front door, laughing and joking with her boyfriend, I jumped behind some bushes to keep from being seen. They clung to each other, smiling and kissing as they walked. That was what Rochelle deserved to have in her life. She didn't need to be saddled with someone who didn't love or want her. I sighed and tugged my coat closer to my body. Rochelle was going to hate me when the truth came out.

"Fuck." I groaned and yanked my phone out of my pocket, shooting off a quick text to Rochelle, telling her I was running late. Then I called my sister and begged her to pick me up. Arielle showed up ten minutes later.

"Thanks for coming," I said when I climbed into her warm car.

"What the hell are you doing creeping around Rochelle's place," Arielle asked.

I snorted. That was the question of the moment and all I could do was stammer and stare out the car window.

"What's wrong with you? You have the same look on your face that you did after you found out it was me who knocked down your Lego castle when you were eight years old."

I didn't have to look at her to know she was staring at me.

"Erik," she growled. "What is going on with you? You're about to sign a big, fat pro contract. Your life is fucking perfect right now."

I almost choked. "Perfect. That's not the word I would choose to describe my life. Besides everything you listed concerns hockey and my life is not defined by only hockey."

Everyone always thought that my world revolved around hockey. I frowned and pressed my cheek against the cool glass. This wasn't going to be easy. What would Arielle think when I told her my secret? If she hated me, I didn't think I would survive. The words stayed lodged in my throat.

"Erik," Arielle repeated. "You're totally freaking me out. What's going on?"

"I need a drink." Maybe I did need to hit the blue house party.

"Oh, God," Arielle groaned. "It's going to be one of those talks."

We rode in silence and I was thankful Arielle didn't go to the blue house. Instead she picked a quiet bar where no one would bother us. We didn't say a word until we were tucked away in a booth in a dark corner with drinks in hand. Arielle swirled her mixed drink, making the ice cubes clink against the glass and tapped her nails on the table impatiently waiting for me to say something.

"I don't know where to start," I said, taking a drink.

"The beginning would be good," she said, adding a good hard scowl.

"Shit," I grumbled. "Fine. The reason I was lurking in the shadows at Rochelle's place was to tell her that I'm breaking it off. I'm not asking her to marry me."

"Oh thank God," Arielle said and flipped her long hair off her face. "I thought you were dying or had some secret, career-ending injury."

"Fuck hockey," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Arielle, this is serious."

"Fine," she huffed. "So you're not getting married. Why on earth were you even dating a woman?"

"Er …" I narrowed my eyes at her. Her statement didn't include the use of Rochelle's name, in fact she seemed to lump the entire female population into that question.

"You had me fooled. I thought you actually liked the girl."

"Well, I do like her," I said. "Just not enough to marry her."

"We could sit here all night beating around the bush, but I'm fucking tired of all the lies. I went three rounds with Mom tonight about the lack of direction in my life, so I'm just going to lay it all out."

"Okay," I said. I had no idea where this conversation was heading.

"Erik, I know," she said. She took a huge drink and set the empty glass down in front of me, grabbing my hand. "I know."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes because there was no way she knew the secrets I carried. I was about to launch into some drawn out reason why there was absolutely no way she knew what was going on with me when she uttered the one word that stopped my heart.

"Tyce."

I sputtered and beer dribbled down my chin. "What?" The word sounded sort of hysterical when I yelled it at her.

She raised a perfectly formed eyebrow. "Oh, come on, Erik. How stupid do you think I am? After you were unceremoniously shipped off to that hockey high school in the middle of your junior year, I asked questions. Of course, the only answer I got repeatedly was that it was the best move for your career. Dad's such a dick."

I was too stunned to say anything.

"Three days after you left, Tyce stopped by the house looking for you. Rumors were flying around school and Tyce didn't know what to think. Some kids actually thought you signed a pro contract. I couldn't believe you didn't tell him you were leaving. God, Erik, the look on his face when I told him you left to play hockey at another school and you weren't coming back. He was destroyed."

"Fuck," I said and slammed the rest of my beer. I waved the empty glass at the bartender. If this conversation was heading the way I expected, I was going to need another drink, possibly an entire keg.

"At first Tyce wouldn't talk to me, but I caught him at the rink after practice one night and cornered him. I asked him how he was doing and everything came out," Arielle said sadly. "I think it was a major relief for him to talk to someone."

A stab of jealousy roared through me. I never had anyone to talk to about the pain and the emptiness of betraying the only person who really knew me. I had to act like nothing happened, like I was a happy, well-adjusted kid. I sighed and took a huge drink.

"I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"It seems you didn't mean for me to find out at all," Arielle snapped.

"That's not it," I said. "I wanted to tell you but…"

Arielle frowned. "Give me some credit, Erik. I had a pretty good idea what was going on with you and Tyce before you guys even figured it out."

"You did not," I spluttered.