What Are The Chances (Phil-U #2)

17 I was a liability tonight

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I was a liability tonight

WILL

I could feel Coach watching me, and Levi too. I was a liability tonight. I’d served a two-minute penalty which was my first of the season, and I may as well have given away a penalty shot with a dumb play that had resulted in a breakaway for the opposition.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Levi asked when we jumped the boards and settled on the bench.

“Caufield!” Coach shouted from behind me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

What was the fuck wrong me with me? I had no idea. I was so up in my head I could barely see the score. I knew it though. Three-one. And it wasn’t in our favour.

Levi bent closer to my ear. “Is it your shoulder?”

I shook my head. It was a little achy, but not enough to slow me down.

“I don’t know what it is,” I admitted. “I’m just having an off day I suppose.”

“You don’t have off days, Will,” Levi returned before climbing back over the boards.

I followed his lead and skated into position for the face off. I didn’t gain possession, but no surprises there.

Things didn’t improve in the second period, and they went to shit in the third. Levi scored with six minutes remaining, making the three-two score seem slightly more achievable. Then an empty netter scored by the other team blew that straight back out. By the time we were skating off the ice, I was fucking spent. I trudged straight to my stall, my ego hanging so low it was practically dragging on the ground.

“What the fuck was that?” Coach shouted the second he crossed the threshold into the locker room. “That was the worst game of hockey I’ve ever witnessed. Defence, what happened to our structure? You completely played into their hand.” He was silent for a moment, but that was only to catch his breath. “And Caufield, care to explain where your head was at? I’ve seen peewee hockey players with better skills than you.”

Brutal, but also fair. The question was rhetorical, so I didn’t bother with a response. Coach’s angry tangent didn’t end there, but I zoned out. He couldn’t say anything I wasn’t already telling myself.

*

I felt Levi sink into the seat beside me on the bus, but I kept my focus out the window. If he was talking to me, the music playing through my headphones blocked him out. Though truthfully, I doubt he’d have much to say right now. Levi knew when to let it drop, just like I did with him.

Not even a month ago the roles had been reversed. He’d climbed onto the bus in a fucking daze after Grace had broken up with him. He’d been a liability in that game too. Though for him, at least we’d known why. I really had no fucking clue what was up.

I was doing things the way I’d always done them. Training hard. Looking after myself off the ice. When Levi had mentioned my game seemed off, I guess I hadn’t totally believed him, but I’d just seen firsthand that he was right. And the frustrating part was I had no clue why. I didn’t know how to fix this.

About an hour into the drive back to campus, I shut off my music and slipped out my headphones. The bus was rowdier than I expected, a hell of a lot less sombre than my own thoughts.

Levi tore his focus off the guys talking around us and gave me his attention. “Should I be worried?”

“I – I don’t know.” I exhaled heavily. “I’ll get Coach to organise extra ice time.”

“No. No more extra ice time. Or extra gym sessions. Or extra anything. Ease up, man.”

Easier said than done. That was like being told to change my instincts, like breathe slower or blink less.

“You’re burning yourself out, Will. And for what? What are you trying to prove?”

A good question, and one I didn’t have an answer to .

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Loosen the reins

WILL

Was I surprised Coach had bag skated us? Nope. Nobody was. That didn’t mean we were prepared for it. I knew one player didn’t make a team, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel responsible.

The locker room was eerily quiet as everyone showered after practice.

After towel drying my hair then pulling on my hoodie, I rotated my shoulder back and forth. Slugging myself in last night’s game had taken its toll, and for nothing it turned out.

As our head trainer Richard passed, he stopped, double checking me. “Shoulder giving you grief again?”

I forced a dismissive nod. “No, all good. Was just stretching.”

When he carried on, I released the breath I’d been holding. Too close, Caufield.

Tripp strolled over, dressed in sweats and his hockey jacket. “Should we walk over together?”

My eyebrows pinched. “Walk where?”

“You didn’t check Hughesy’s text last night?”

I shook my head in answer. I’d hit the hay the moment we got home and hadn’t caught up on my phone before getting to practice early this morning.

“Our second check in with Riley is this morning, which has come at a perfect time.” Tripp arched his back, puffing out his chest. “My back is fucking wrecked since sleeping in the back of your truck. ”

If he was fishing for an apology, he sure as shit wasn’t getting one from me. He could blame our goalie who’d pissed on in his tent.

But on another note, I couldn’t catch a break this week. My head wasn’t prepared for another run in with Riley. The alternative wasn’t an option though. Shy away from fronting her? No fucking way.

“Yo,” Ryan called out, whipping Tripp with his towel. “I need a wingman tonight. You free?”

“Nope. I’ve got to meet with my mentor for my shop assignment.” Tripp gestured to me. “Take Caufield.”

I shook my head. “No fucking–”

From the bench beside me, Levi shoved my good arm.

Loosen the reins.

Maybe the idea wasn’t half bad. I could use the distraction.

I sighed. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

Ryan grinned like the fucking Cheshire Cat. “We’ll head over to the house of the chick I’m talking to. Probably watch a movie. Apparently she’s got a hot roommate.”

“Uh-huh. And you can’t hang out with this chick on your own?”

“Nah. Think she’s trying to pump the breaks. You know, make it more of a casual hang out with a group of friends.” Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Because you know what Netflix and chill alone really means.”

Tripp nodded in understanding. “I love Netflix and fucking.”

I suppressed a laugh. I swear hockey and girls were the only things Ryan and Tripp thought about sometimes. Suppose it wasn’t all that different for me either.

“Is this the same girl you coerced us all into going camping for?” I checked.

“Yeah. But we only fooled around a little then.”

Levi snickered. “You threw a fucking camping festival and all it got you was a blowjob?”

Ryan balked, his face morphing into what appeared like shame. “A very intense make out session actually.”

We all fucking lost it. The guy was confident as hell, and he’d barely even scored more than I had. This piece of news was definitely helping with my mood.

“Cut it out fuckers. This girl will be worth the long game, which continues tonight.” He shot a pointed look in my direction. “You better not bail on me, Caufield.”

Loosen the reins.

“Don’t worry. You can count on me.”

*

Grace and Stella were already inside by the time Tripp and I rolled up. Riley was chatting to them freely, as though they were all friends.

I sat as quietly as I could on the other side of the partition. I liked hearing her speak normally, like the person she actually was when she didn’t know I was lingering around the corner.

“You’re lucky you weren’t there, Stels,” Grace said. “It was so bloody cold. If it wasn’t for Levi and his insane body temperature, my tits would’ve literally frozen off.”

Riley laughed, the sound better than a post-goal buzzer.

“Did you end up crashing with a friend, Riley?” Grace asked.

Riley’s automatic cough seemed innocent enough, but I knew Grace’s question had knocked her.

“Ah, yeah. I was all good.” She mustered some confidence. “But you’re right, sleeping alone was not an option.”

Girls and their ice-cold blood.

When they rounded the partition, Grace’s eyes lit up once she spotted us. Riley’s not so much. But at least she wasn’t looking at me like she’d seen a ghost again. We’d made a little bit of progress.

“You survived practice, huh,” Grace mused.

“Just,” Tripp answered. “Coach is a fucking sadist. I’ve never been bag skated so hard in my life.”

Riley snickered at that. “Sounds like you deserved it.”

Tripp gestured to me with a nod. “No thanks to this guy. Will was playing his own game all night.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but I was hung up on Riley’s comment. If she thought we deserved it, then that meant she knew the score. She’d never kept tabs when we were dating.

“Levi mentioned the whole team was off,” Grace said in my defence. “But hey, a chance to redeem yourselves tomorrow night, right?”

This week was a gruelling one. A game last night, another tomorrow, and then the most important on Saturday night. As if sensing all the hits that were about to come my way, my shoulder spasmed. I did my best to hide it.

“Who’s up next?” Riley asked, wiping her palms on her leggings.

Tripp jumped up. “Me. I’ve got class after this.”

Like last time, nobody hung back, so by the time my turn rolled around it was just Riley and me. Were my friends doing this on purpose? Maybe. Did I hate them or love them for doing it? I wasn’t sure.

As I got settled, I tried picking up on Riley’s mood. I wasn’t na?ve in thinking Saturday night meant we were friendly again. Hell, we’d been bickering up until the moment we went to sleep.

“How did your shoulder hold up yesterday?” she checked .

“Okay. But it’s sore this morning.”

I didn’t bother lying. I couldn’t exactly hide it.

“Take off your hoodie and I’ll look.”

I did as Riley said, slipping it off and setting it on the bed beside me. As Riley stepped closer, her familiar sweet scent enveloped me, leaving me momentarily disoriented. Her hair, loose today, cascaded over her collarbone as she leaned forward.

She sunk her fingers into my shoulder with more confidence than last time. When she touched a particularly sore spot, one sensitive enough to cause my arm to jar, I instinctively reached out. My hand landed on the back of her thigh, my fingertips instantly prickling with familiarity. With nothing on but athletic leggings, I could feel the warmth and firmness of her leg. I remembered it well too. Those same legs wrapped around my torso, or hooked over my shoulders, or on either side of my face, or–

As Riley cleared her throat, I snapped back to reality and hurriedly summoned all my willpower and dropped my hand.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

Without my touch, the rigidness slowly left Riley’s body.

“It’s fine. I guess I could be a little gentler.”

I scoffed at that. “You think?”

The pressure she was applying now was perfect. It was still painful, but a good type of pain. One that told me she was tending to all the right places. She went through a range of exercises, moving my shoulder up and down before getting me to rotate it.

“You should have your trainer start taping your shoulder before practice and games.”

I grimaced. “That’s not an option.”

Riley raised her eyebrows in question, encouraging me to elaborate.

I sighed. “It’s not painful enough to be benched. But if I asked him to strap it, he’d bench me anyway.”

“Caufield.”

Riley’s tone was a warning.

“I know my body, Riley.”

“No. You’re obsessed enough with hockey to ignore what your body is telling you.”

Maybe. Probably. But that wasn’t going to change now.

“You do realise I’m meant to report these sessions to your athletic trainer, right?”

I didn’t need to ask her to leave this part out. I knew the unspoken message was clear to Riley.

She exhaled, shaking her head in disbelief. “You haven’t changed. ”

“And you have?”

She defiantly held my gaze for a moment before turning and reaching for the tape. There were plenty of guys with taping in the locker rooms, so I wasn’t worried about standing out to my trainers or Coach. My friends might notice though, particularly Levi. I’d need to minimise time without a shirt. Speaking of...

I tugged on my tee. “Is this in the way?”

“Um.” A blush crept up Riley’s neck. “Probably. Do you mind?”

It was just skin. Besides, nothing she hadn’t seen before. I slipped out my right arm but kept as much as I could of my left side clothed.

Riley got to work straightaway, carefully placing piece by piece of tape artfully.

The silence between us was heavy. I knew it couldn’t be filled with small talk, so I didn’t say anything at all. Instead I clenched then unclenched my hands, needing to do something to keep my blood moving.

“Are you flexing?” Riley asked.

“No.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“Whatever. Just stop moving, would you?”

When Riley’s leg shifted to rest against my thigh, I swear all my blood rushed there. She was leaving a figurative scorch mark on my skin. I focussed over her shoulder, but there wasn’t much to look at. The office we were in was a collaborative space and it was plain as hell.

After what felt like a tense eternity, she stepped back. “There. That will hold for your game tomorrow night.”

Frowning, I opened my mouth to ask why she knew we had a game tomorrow, but she spoke before I could.

“You’re all done.”

Standing up, I slipped my arm back through my t-shirt. I didn’t bother with my hoodie. I was operating at a warmer than normal temperature after being in such close proximity to her.

“Thank you.”

Nodding, Riley turned back to the worktable behind her, busying herself with the equipment on it. I guess that was my cue to leave. I scooped up my things and headed for the door. Though as I reached it, I hovered, turning over my shoulder.

Riley had stopped what she was doing. Her hands gripped the table as she leant her weight against it, her shoulders heaving up and down. I guess being around me wasn’t as easy as she was pretending. And I had no clue whether that made me feel better or worse.