Chapter 25 - Reese
Reese
Mason sat on the bench with his leg stretched out, knee already blotched from where I’d pressed too hard the last time. I had his report open on my phone and my hands on him, thumbs testing the edge of swelling he kept pretending wasn’t there.
“What is it with you guys and blatantly ignoring what your body’s telling you?” I pushed down and watched him wince. “I don’t think a more stubborn bunch of people exist on the planet.”
He tipped his head back against the lockers. “It’s the Finals. What do you expect?”
“Cartilage doesn’t give a shit about finals.”
He scoffed, and tried to pull his leg away. I held it where it was and leaned in until he stopped fighting me.
“Game’s about to start,” he said.
“I have the power to pull you from it if you keep this up.”
That changed his tune pretty quick, and he became a well-behaved athlete for the rest of the taping.
Someone laughed, the music got turned up. The locker room held that pre-game edge where everyone was moving around at the same time, but doing something different. Nobody able to stop and take a breath for five seconds.
Which meant I couldn’t stop and take a breath.
Theo cut past us in full gear, the sight of him causing my brain to stutter.
“Hey,” I called after him.
He kept going.
“Theo.”
He stopped this time and turned back, pulling his buds out. “Sorry. What’s up?”
“Where are you going? You need tape.”
He glanced down at himself, then back at me. “Already geared up.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I’ll catch you rinkside,” he said. Easy. Casual. He smiled like this was nothing. “I’m fine.”
A light tap on my arm, and I looked back to see Mason pointing at his leg. “Can I go now?”
My answer was an irritated sigh. He made for the door and pulled up his pants at the same time, which gave him an awkward shuffle that would’ve made me laugh if I wasn’t so damn pissed off.
I wiped my palms on a towel, zipped my kit bag, and slung it over my shoulder. The zipper snagged halfway, in keeping with the theme of the week. I cursed under my breath, forced it closed, and headed out.
Things didn’t change for our travel games. If anything, they got worse. Everything felt off by half a step, and it fucked with my head more than I cared to admit.
I paced the strip of carpet in front of the hotel elevator with my phone pressed to my ear, kit bag parked at my feet like a loyal dog. The pattern under my feet swam if I stared at it too long.
“No,” I said into the phone. “That doesn’t help me. I wouldn’t have ordered it express if I didn’t need it… expressly.”
The sales guy on the other end kept talking. I cut him off.
“My guys play tonight,” I said. “I don’t care what the delay is. Figure it out.”
I ended the call before he could give me another excuse, and checked the tracking number again, like it might change if I stared hard enough.
“Going down?” Holly came up beside me, hair pulled back in a way that meant she’d given up earlier than usual. She looked as tired as I felt.
“Yeah.”
She hit the button again and leaned back against the wall. For a few seconds we just stood there, listening to the elevator hum its way up to us.
“What game is this again?” She placed a hand over a mega yawn.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. “Three,” I said. Then, “No. Four. No...” A tired laugh slipped out before I could stop it. “Shit.”
Holly smiled, sympathetic. “Hang in there. The end’s in sight.”
“It ends? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t feel like it.”
The elevator arrived and we stepped inside. The space felt too small with both of us and all our exhaustion packed in.
I stared at the floor indicator as it ticked down.
Tape inventory ran through my head without me meaning it to.
Two rolls left in the bag. One half-used.
Another already sticky from humidity. I’d gone through more this series than any other.
Ankles. Wrists. Ribs. Shoulders. Knees that wouldn’t behave. Theo’s shoulder.
Holly bumped her hip against mine. “I mean it. The final stretch is always a killer, but it’s important to keep from getting sucked too deep.”
I nodded because that was easier than explaining that I was past the point of optimism. Tape vanished faster than I could replace it. The games took chunks out of everyone.
And I hadn’t seen Theo in days.
Not really. Not outside of a bench check or a quick pass-by with a grin I couldn’t read. He existed in motion and excuses and the space just out of reach. The odd night we did manage to spend together, we mostly just passed out in our clothes, too tired to even kiss each other goodnight.
The elevator doors opened onto the lobby, and noise spilled in. I grabbed my bag and stepped out, already running through who needed what before warm-ups.
I wasn’t getting sucked in, but work filled the gaps where everything else should have been.
*
My suitcase lay open on the bed, zipper teeth bared like it was waiting for a fight. I folded another stack of black tees and shoved them into the corner, socks jammed wherever they’d fit. The room looked like every other hotel room I’d lived in. Beige. Neutral carpet. A desk I hadn’t sat at once.
It turned out to be game 4 after all, and Surge took it to tie the series. Two all.
The team was beaten to hell last night. Bruises layered on bruises. Ankles screaming. Wrists angry. Shoulders held together by willpower and whatever I could do between shifts. Theo had come to the bench once.
Once.
He’d lifted his pant leg and asked for cooling spray on his ankle. Joked about catching an edge. Then he was gone again, swallowed by the third period and the noise.
My phone rang. Front desk.
“Yes?” I said, already irritated.
“Ms. Hopper? There’s a package for you.”
“A package?” A dull realization poked through my tired thoughts. The tape. The delivery I needed yesterday. “I’ll pick it up on my way out, thanks.”
“Whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“It’ll be convenient to actually get a delivery when I need it,” I snapped, then stopped myself. “Sorry. I’m on my way.”
I ended the call and stared at my phone for a beat, jaw tight. Then I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and rolled the suitcase upright. This called for an angry email, and I typed as I walked. The subject line was all caps, and the body held nothing back.
If you can’t meet deadlines during Finals, say so and I’ll take my business elsewhere.
I rounded the corner without looking up, and collided with a solid chest.
“Whoa.”
My phone nearly flew out of my hand. I staggered back a step, heart jumping, and looked up. Theo stood there, key card in his fingers. He caught my elbow out of instinct, steadying me.
“Hey,” he said, with a smile. “Fancy running into you here.”
Cute. But I wasn’t in the mood.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was just giving the tape guy a piece of my mind.”
He laughed softly, then looked me over. “I meant to come by last night, but after the game, I was just—”
“You were bushed,” I said, finishing it for him. “Yeah. I know.”
His smile faltered, and something flickered there and passed.
We stood on the swimming carpet with our bags at our feet, hallway quiet except for a door closing down the way. It felt like we’d both arrived at the same conclusion without talking about it.
“Walk with me,” I said. “To the bus.”
“Sure.”
We fell into step toward the elevator. Our shoulders didn’t touch. The space between us felt intentional.
He waited. I could tell. Gave me every chance to let it go. As if that was a thing that would happen.
“Are you avoiding me?” I asked.
He gave a short, surprised laugh. “What? No.”
“Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.”
He shook his head like I’d said the most ridiculous thing. “Reese, it’s the Finals.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He glanced at the ceiling, then back at me. “Ask any of the guys. Ask Cass or Josie. This is how it goes.”
“I don’t give a shit about anyone else, Theo,” I said, rounding on him. “I care about you.”
The elevator arrived, and we stepped inside. The doors closed with a soft sigh.
“I’m not asking for everything,” I went on as if there was no pause in our conversation. “I just don’t like this feeling.”
He angled his head. “What feeling?”
I tried to make sense of it so I could tell him, but the words in my head scattered before I could catch them. It made me feel useless, and I just stood there.
He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel heat through his hoodie.
“Let me give you another feeling then,” he said.
His hand cupped my jaw and he kissed me. Hard. Familiar. His mouth moved against mine with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how to derail me. My suitcase bumped the wall. His knuckles pressed at my hip as he pressed himself against me.
For a few seconds, I let it happen. Let the kiss do what it was meant to do. Distract. Replace.
The elevator dinged.
He pulled back, thumb wiping at his mouth as he gave me a look that sent shivers through me.
“See you on the bus,” he said, stepping out.
I stood there a beat longer, fingers curled around the handle of my suitcase. My lips tingled, and my chest felt too full.
His kiss lingered, but that gnawing feeling from before… that was still there.
*
The apartment door clicked shut behind me, and the weight of the day slid off with it. Theo was already sprawled on his bed, heavy limbs tangled in the sheets. He didn’t even look awake enough to open an eye.
I dropped my bag on the floor, got undressed, and slid in beside him. The mattress dipped under both of us. My hand found his chest, his skin warm. His shoulder pressed lightly into mine.
“This is good,” I murmured, letting the tension leak out of my voice.
A low hum of agreement vibrated through him. Half asleep, he shifted closer. His lips brushed the curve of my shoulder. His arms settled over me, familiar and comforting.
I let my head fall against his chest. Silence stretched, punctuated only by his steady breathing as I traced lazy circles on his forearm.