Meant For You

forty-two.

I roll my eyes at her statement. Somehow I thought this would be easier. "Don't worry about the money. I make more than quadruple the cost of your plane ticket by playing one game. We're doing this for Nola. Don't you want to be there?" I question her, brow raised. "Of course I want to. Are you sure it's not too much of a hassle? I'd feel terrible if I was a burd-"

"Come with. The flights like 13 hours, I'll need the company, or else my brain will explode," I admit. I've hung around the girl a couple of times when I go over to Nola's or if the kid brings her around. She's a nice girl. I think she'll be a decent company.

Ember takes a deep breath and places her hands on top of the counter in front of her. "Fine. But I owe you one. For the plane ticket. What do you want?" she asks. Nothing. "Just for you to keep quiet about us surprising her in Stockholm. She's leaving tomorrow morning anyway so you'll just have to keep it to yourself for a couple more hours," I say to her.

She nods quickly. "Don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets." A light flush creeps into her cheeks then. What is that supposed to mean? "Nola will be happy to see you, by the way. I know this will mean a lot to her," she adds when I don't say anything. "Yeah," I agree, "she'll be excited to see us," I emphasize that last word. Sure, Nola would be excited to see me but her best friend as well.

"Right..well I'm going to make a poster! Wanna help me?" She wags her thick, brown brows. "You do the creative stuff, I'll tell you if it looks good or not. Snap me a picture of it when you're done?" I say. She lets out a light chuckle that makes her small dimples appear on her cheeks. "Alright, I'll do the signs but you have to hold one up!" Should I leave now?

I check my watch and slide out of the stool. "Sure, whatever you want. My bad, I have to go. I have a meeting with my manager, but text me," I say, checking my phone to see if Tiff has texted. Surprisingly, she hasn't. "Okay, have fun!" Ember runs back to her room and I show myself out. My phone suddenly rings and it's Tiffany. I answer quickly. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Miles," she whispers through clenched teeth. I'm sure she's already at the place our meeting is supposed to take place. "I'm on my way, Tiff. Five minutes out," I lie so that she'll leave me alone. "If your ass isn't in the seat next to me before they get here, I'm killing you." My mouth opens to respond but the line dies.

Tiffany is sweet until I piss her off. Which means she's only sweet 20% of the time. She's been my manager since I joined the league and I feel like we've formed a tight bond. A lot of my opportunities and success out of the field have been because of her. Every time I think I've pissed her off enough to quit, she sticks around. Her birthday is coming up, so I might have to get her something extravagant to make up for the stress I've been giving her this past season.

***

I was sitting down next to Tiff fifteen minutes after our phone call ended. She side eyes me as I sit and I can tell she's glaring. "Looking classy as ever today, Tiff," I quip. "Speak again and I will kill you," she retorts quickly, venom in her voice. A small laugh slips out of my mouth.

Tiff's five foot three, blonde, and has freckles all over her face that make her look like the least intimidating person on earth. She couldn't scare me even if she tried. It's 6:40, our meeting doesn't start for another twenty minutes. "Talk to me," I say, nudging her lightly. She takes a deep breath.

"Are you really missing your next two games?" she asks. I nod slowly. After our game today, I told Coach the truth about why I would be missing our next two games. He gave me the stank eye and told me to get the hell out of his office. I expected worse but the boys are doing great. Maybe they don't need me and he's realized that. Tiff typically shows up to a couple of games to monitor my big mouth after games.

"Why?" She raises a brow at me, curiosity crossing her features. Usually, I fill her in with my schedule but this trip was planned unexpectedly. "I'll be in Stockholm," I say in a God awful accent. Tiff rolls her eyes so hard they almost get stuck in the back of her head. "That's a British accent, you buffoon. You're going to Sweden, not England." Her brows furrow then. "Why are you going to Sweden?"

I've never lied to Tiff and I'm not going to start now. "A friend of mine is competing in a figure skating competition over there. I'm gonna go watch." Her brown brows raise, eyes a bit widened. "Is this friend a woman? And don't lie to me, figure skating is a woman's sport." She points a manicured finger at me. I make a face and roll my eyes. "Don't be sexist, Tiff. Men also figure skate."

She tilts her head at me, her lips in a straight line. "Stop being funny. I thought you didn't like being seen with women in public," she retorts. True. "No one's gonna follow me to Sweden. Also, I'm not being funny. Yes, she's a woman but she's also just a friend," I shrug. She gasps, "You have a girl who's just a friend?"

Funny.

Wrapping my long arm around her shoulder, I pull her close. "No, Tiff. You're my one and only girl friend." She shrugs me off quickly and pushes my arm. A laugh escapes my lips at the look on her face. "Just be careful. I know how you get when people see you out with a woman. It scares you," she teases. "You know I don't like being tied down to anyone," I say jokingly, but it's true.

Being seen with a woman in public is stressful for me. Not only does it start unnecessary talk but then people start searching for the person I'm seen with. Rumors are the top three in the things I hate most in the world. People talk too much and most of the shit they say isn't true. I don't hide people from my life for my sake, I do it for them too.

Some of the shit that has been said about people who are just my friends is horrible. They don't deserve people's harsh words which is why I'm such a private person. My personal life is my personal life. I'll do anything to keep people I love away from the light.

Focus on me. I'm the known hockey player.

"How are Chloe and Nash?" Tiffany asks. The thought of my parents makes my whole mood take a left turn. I was stupid enough to think that I wouldn't think about my adoption if someone brought up my parents. Most of the time, I'm able to ignore it. But recently all my thoughts have been consumed with finding out who my birth parents are.

Hockey helps. Being around people helps. But I fucking crumble at the thought of my adoption. All it takes is bringing up my parents.

I clear my throat. "They're good. They've both been a bit busy lately with work so it's been hard to see them." It's the truth. Both my parents are busy and I am too. I've been keeping my distance from them to keep my head from exploding. Even though I know I won't do it, sometimes I feel like I'll blurt out the whole adoption topic if I'm with them.

This wasn't something I wanted to be reminded of before this big meeting. I decided to change the subject before she could say anything else. Earlier in the season, Tiff had hired a PI for me to help me find my birth parents. I never went through with it luckily and she doesn't know that I'm going to get answers from my parents about it soon.

It's something I want to keep to myself. No one really knows except for Nola.

"Anything you want to tell me before they show up?" I ask her. She purses her lips. "Just be yourself, okay? This is pretty much guaranteed to be given to you, they just want to meet you first before any of the official work starts," she explains. I figured.

It confused me when Tiff told me about the opportunity with Nike. They usually wait until the end of the season to pick a guy from the team who won the Stanley Cup. "Sounds easy enough," I reply. While negative thoughts try to wrack toward the front of my brain, I push them back as best as I can.

Tiffany was about to open her mouth when the office door opened. Three men entered, the first ones face lit up when his eyes met mine. I had seen that look on many people's faces when they met me. My manager and I stand to greet them. "Miles Dempsey! I'm Travis Gill, it's nice to finally meet you," the first man who entered says. I greet the other two men and turn to Tiffany who has the biggest smile on her face.

Maybe her happiness for me will push me through the rest of this meeting.

"Shall we get started?" Travis says, catching my attention as we all sit back down.

"Let's get it going."