Unravel Me (Playing For Keeps Book 3)

I forgot how physically exhausting heartbreak is.

It’s staring at your phone until late into the night, rereading old messages, smiling at pictures. Typing out a hundred new messages, only to second-guess and delete every single one. Heartbreak is forgetting to eat, not sleeping at all, or sleeping way too much. It’s brain fog and stomach aches, skipping your morning workout, and forgetting you made plans.

Heartbreak is a thousand times worse when Rosie is the one your heart is missing.

I wish it were as easy as getting on my knees and begging for forgiveness, but as I sink down to one of the couches in the main living space of Second Change Home, I know it’s not. I lied to Rosie, someone who trusted me with everything precious in her life. And instead of being furious with me, instead of yelling, telling me she’d never forgive me, she comforted me. She took my pain in her hands and gave me grace. For space, for patience. And, like I told her then, I’d give her anything she’d ever ask for.

A quiet shuffle brings my gaze up, finding little Lily standing at the opposite end of the couch, hands clasped, head down.

“Hey, Lily.”

“Hi, Adam.” She scuffs at the floor, big brown eyes bouncing to mine, then back down. “Could I sit with you?”

I pat the cushion next to me. “You can always sit with me, sweetheart.”

She shuffles over, leaving a gap between us. “Did I do something bad?”

“Something bad?”

She nods, eyes fixed on her hands in her lap. “Sometimes at home Daddy would say he didn’t want to see me. He said it was because I was being bad, but I never knew what I did. He would lock me in my room for a while.”

A muscle tics in my jaw. “A while?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t allowed to go outside or go downstairs to watch TV or play with my toys. Mama would bring me sandwiches and stuff and come play with me while Daddy was sleeping.” She tugs at the hem of her dress, over and over, her knuckles turning white. “I thought maybe I was bad and you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Anger moves through me, and I force my fists to unclench. I don’t know Lily’s story, but I know I don’t want to be anything like her dad. That I’ve inadvertently made her feel unwanted while I was in my own head these past two weeks makes me sick.

I reach across the gap, hooking my pinky around her tiny one. “I’m sorry, Lily-bug. I was having a couple of tough days, but I shouldn’t disappear like that. I’m sorry I scared you, and I’m so sorry I made you feel like it had anything to do with you. You’re special to me, and I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt your feelings like that.”

Slowly, she slides her small hand into mine. “How come you called me Lily-bug?”

“I’m not sure. But it sounds kinda happy, doesn’t it? And I feel happy when I’m with you. Feels a little like my heart is smiling.”

Her ears burn red, and she scrunches her nose and mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Mama used to call me Lily-bug. Before Daddy sent her to heaven.”

Fuck. “If you want, I won’t call you it again. You can keep it your special name that you shared only with your mama.”

Lily stays quiet, scooching close and turning our clasped hands over in her lap, running one tiny fingertip over my knuckles. “Why are you sad today?”

“Not doing a good job of hiding it, huh?”

Her nose crinkles. “Maybe you’re better at hockey?”

“I hope so,” I chuckle, then sigh. “I hurt someone’s feelings. Someone special to me. I lied to her about something silly, and it really hurt her.”

“How come you did that?”

“I was scared of getting hurt, and I didn’t want to lose her. I thought maybe she might like me better if she didn’t know I played hockey.”

Lily cocks her head. “But why? I like you even though you play hockey.”

“Yeah?” I squeeze her hand. “Why do you like me?”

“Because you’re nice to me, you make me laugh, you make bracelets with me, and on days when I’m really sad, I forget why I’m sad when you play with me.”

Something warm moves through me, and I fight the urge to wrap this little girl up in my arms. “That makes me feel really special, Lily. Thank you.”

“You are special, Adam.” The compassion shining in her gaze rocks me to my core. In this moment, I realize how much she reminds me of Rosie. “I could give you a hug, if you want. Mama said I have magic hugs. They always made her feel happy when she was sad. So if you want…” She shrugs. “I could give you a hug.”

“I’d love a magic hug.”

Cautiously, she wraps her tiny arms around me. I wind my arm around her back, holding her gently, and as she snuggles into me, everything feels like it’ll be okay. I guess that’s the magic.

“Adam? I think you could call me Lily-bug. Like my mama did.”

“That would make me feel really special to share something with you that you only shared with your mama.”

“I think she’d like it if I shared it with you.” She lays her head against me, sighing softly. “You feel safe, just like my mama.”

They called my fucking mom.

My dad, too, but he simply clapped my back and slid out into the backyard with the rest of the guys, murmuring a quick, “Good luck,” before leaving me alone with this pack of vicious hyenas.

“Quite frankly,” my mom starts, “it’s about time I was invited to girls’ night, since somebody has been ignoring my phone calls.”

I scuff at my floor. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy wallowing in self-pity,” Cara clarifies with an eye roll.

“Busy missing Rosie,” Olivia corrects with a sharp look at Cara.

“Busy taking care of his premature arthritis ’cause he’s back to jacking off now,” Jennie mumbles, checking out her nails.

I drag my hands down my face. “How ?”

“How what?” Cara asks.

“How are you guys my best option?”

“Hey!” Olivia props her fists on her hips. “I take great offense to that! I’m mostly normal and mature!”

With my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, I run my fingers through my hair. “Maybe we call it a night.” I ruffle Bear’s ears, and he cracks one sleepy lid, staring up at me from my lap. “What do you think, bud? Am I a lost cause?”

“Adam.” Olivia squeezes in beside me. “You’re not a lost cause.”

“I know how easy it is to give up on yourself,” Jennie offers gently. “But we aren’t going to let you do that.”

“I just really miss her.” I rub my chest, trying to soothe the ache beating there. “It’s not getting any easier, giving her space. I only get angrier with myself each day that goes by without her.”

“I hate Courtney,” my mom mutters.

“I’m with Bev,” Cara says, slinging one leg over the other. “And it’s not too late to circle back to my original idea of running her down with my car.”

“We’re not running anyone over,” Olivia says. “But if she were to be accidentally pushed—” She holds up a hand, stopping herself and shaking her head. “Of all the terrible things Courtney has done, the worst by far is breaking you down to the point of believing you—exactly as you are—are unworthy of someone’s love.”

I hang my head. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“We know who you are, Adam,” Jennie insists quietly. “You’re eternally hopeful. Somebody who always tries to see the best in others.”

“You root for everyone, and you always stand by your friends’ sides,” Olivia adds.

“You cheer for the little people who can’t cheer for themselves,” Cara tells me. “Some of those kids didn’t have a reason to smile until you came into their lives.”

“You’ve got the biggest heart out of anyone I know,” Garrett says from behind me, and I turn, finding my friends and my dad in my patio doorway.

“When I feel like a failure, I find you,” Emmett tells me. “You lift me up and remind me how far I’ve come.”

“You make me want to be a better person,” Jaxon mumbles, gaze bouncing from me to the floor. “I think I kinda already am, and it’s because I follow you.”

Carter leans against the doorway, his daughter in his arms. “You believe in me when no one else does.”

I huff a tired laugh. “That’s proven to be an expensive trait of mine.”

“And you give the best snuggles,” he coos in a baby voice, waving Ireland’s arms around as she giggles. “And you’re definitely the most handsome and strong of all my uncles, almost as handsome and strong as my daddy, but not quite.”

Laughter rings throughout the room, and Carter sets his smiling daughter down in my arms. “Seriously, man, you don’t see yourself clearly. And we get it. How could you after everything you’ve been through? But if you look around this room, you’ll see a bunch of people who love you.” He shrugs. “But you need to love you too. Especially if you want Rosie to love you.”

“Why do you feel like you don’t deserve her?” my dad asks.

“I never said that.”

“Not with your words, maybe. But that’s what your actions said, isn’t it? You hid who you were because you felt like that person might be less deserving of her love.”

Rosie is everything good and bright in this world. She’s got the purest heart, made of the warmest sunshine. She’s the embodiment of compassion and grace, the kindest person I’ve ever known, someone who strives to give people the understanding she didn’t receive when she needed it most. She’s continuously working on herself, taking difficult steps to give her son the life he deserves. She’s always trying to be the best version of herself, but I don’t think she needs to change a thing; her drive and her heart ensure she’s someone who only puts her best foot forward every time she moves.

“What if I can’t give her everything she’s spent her life searching for?” I whisper. “I can’t be a partner who’s at her side every day when I’m traveling seventy-five percent of the year. I’ll miss birthdays and anniversaries, and I won’t be holding her hand through some of her toughest moments. How can I be the partner she deserves? The family she and Connor need?” I shake my head as the truth grips my throat. “I can’t be.”

“Ah,” my mom murmurs. “So that’s why you only chose her with half of your heart.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The girls are all nodding, but I’m sitting here, so lost I can’t figure out left from right.

“Here you have this beautiful woman who’s lived her life not being chosen. Who has wanted nothing more than for someone to see her and love her enough to choose her and her son. And you chose her, Adam, you really did. But you didn’t choose yourself. You took all of her, and you only gave her half of you in return. All those broken pieces don’t make a whole unless you give all of them to her.”

All this time, I wanted someone to like the parts of me that weren’t defined by hockey. I wanted someone to see me outside the sport and everything it’s brought me, and want those parts too. Because for so long, that’s all I’ve been. But the truth is…hockey is a part of me. It’s made me everything I am today, both the good and the bad. I’m loyal and supportive because I know how to be part of a team. I’m empathetic because I know what it feels like to lose, to put so much pressure on myself to succeed, and I know what it’s like to have people support me every step of the way when I don’t think I deserve it. I love as hard as I do because people have loved me just as hard back.

And because people have broken me, and I never, ever want to be like them.

I found Rosie. Finally, I fucking found her . Someone who makes me feel like a person . I forget when I’m with her. Forget that I’ve been broken. I forget to put on an act. I forget how much money I’m worth and yet still, with her by my side, I feel fucking priceless. Irreplaceable. When I’m with Rosie, I feel like there’s no one alive who can love her the way I do, the way I want to promise to love her for as long as she’ll let me.

But when I’m alone, I remember.

I remember that I’ve been replaced by someone I loved. That I’ve been nothing but dollar signs, a fancy house, and a handsome face. I forget all the things Rosie loves about me, the things I love about myself, and I fixate on everything else. Everything that pulls me deeper into the lie I’ve spun, where I can’t face the possibility of giving Rosie everything, because everything has never been enough.

“What if I give her all of me and she decides she doesn’t want it?” The words are hoarse, halfway to broken, barely hanging onto a thread of hope. “I don’t have anything else to give her.”

Olivia lays her hand over mine. “You give what you can, Adam, and if she doesn’t want it, that’s her loss, and it’s a big one. But for what it’s worth, I can’t imagine her not loving all of you. What you’ve given her is who you are; the hockey is just an extension of yourself. It doesn’t change a single thing about your heart. She needs to give you a chance to show her that—and she will, because she’s always been so patient, so good at making you feel seen. And you need to be willing to let her have all those pieces, to trust her with them.”

“It’s okay to be scared, Adam,” Jennie murmurs. “Because when you have trouble loving your own broken pieces, nothing seems scarier than giving them to someone else.” Her eyes flit to Garrett, and something soft moves across her gaze. “But sometimes those people show you exactly how to love the broken bits of yourself. To them, you’re not broken at all.”

My mom smiles softly from across the room. “Go show Rosie how well you can love her, simply because you’re you and she’s her. Show her that she and Connor are the family you choose because you’re each other’s perfect fit. Show her that the man she’s fallen for and the hockey player she’s only just met are one and the same. Show her you love her, Adam, because we know you do. And deep down, I think she knows too.”

Cara wipes a single tear from her eye, sniffling. “I knew calling your mom was my best work yet. I can’t wait to see how I eventually top it.”

My dad comes to stand behind me, nudging my shoulder. “Maybe two weeks is long enough to wait idly on the sidelines. You’ve been patient, and that’s great. Now maybe what Rosie needs is for you to step up and remind her that you’re still here, and you’re not going anywhere. That when she’s ready, you’ll be right here, ready to move forward with her.” He winks. “Women love men who chase them just a little. Just ask your mom.”

“And Ollie,” Carter adds with the pump of his brows. “She wanted me from the beginning, but she pretended she didn’t—”

“Carter.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “But it was relevant.”

Mom hugs me from behind, kissing my temple. “I’m proud of you, honey. I want you to be proud of you too.” She brushes one of Ireland’s curls from her forehead. “Jesus, Carter, I can’t believe you had a hand in making anything so beautiful and pure. Thank God for your incredible wife.” She straightens, patting my shoulder. “Garrett, I’ve got a box of snacks for you out in the—”

“Say less,” he says, breathless as he dashes down the hallway.

It’s amazing how, just like that, my worries begin to fade. I guess that’s what family is for, though: to lift you up when you’ve fallen so hard you can’t see your way out. Even the hardest things feel more manageable with my family surrounding me.

So as we spend the rest of the evening soaking up the last of summer on the patio, drinking beer and eating barbecue, I feel content. For the first time in two weeks, I fall asleep peacefully, and when I wake in the morning with sunshine streaming across my face, I’m optimistic.

The time on my phone tells me it’s after nine, which is probably why Bear isn’t in bed. If I haven’t fed him by seven, I can find him waiting at his bowl in the kitchen, acting like I’ve starved him for days.

I wander downstairs, the smell of my mom’s French toast wafting from the kitchen, making my stomach rumble. I drop a kiss to her cheek, stealing a piece of bacon from the platter.

“Morning, honey. I tried to feed Bear, but he wasn’t interested.” She gestures at the yard. “He’s lounging out back in the sun. Seems like he’s moving a bit slow today.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I head out back with his bowl, whistling for him. His head pops up from where he’s curled up beneath the shade of an oak, but he doesn’t move except for the excited whip of his tail as I approach. “What’s up, bud?” I set his bowl down in front of him, ruffling his floppy ears and kissing the spot between his eyes. He lays his head back down, and I frown, running my palm over his belly. It’s hard to tell beneath all the fur, but it feels swollen, bloated almost. “You got a belly ache, big guy?”

Huge brown eyes stare up at me as his tail slows to a happy, steady thump on the grass, but he makes no move to eat his breakfast.

“Grandma’s making bacon,” I try, and that steady thump turns frantic before he climbs to his feet. “’Atta boy. C’mon, big guy. It’s the good stuff, double smoked and maple flavored.”

He jogs ahead of me, a happy skip to his step before he stops suddenly. His eyes come to mine over his shoulder, and for a moment I think he’s waiting for me to catch up.

Until all one-hundred-and-forty pounds of him collapses on the patio.