Chapter 12 Levi
CHAPTER TWELVE
Levi
My eyes watered as I twisted further, moving my right shoulder gently. The resistance band stretched. I rolled through every motion, throat constricting, trying to force my body to relax. I could do this. I’d done much harder things to my body in the past.
God, recovery fucking sucked.
I was torn between feeling angry that I’d neglected myself to this point and frustrated that I couldn’t handle what I used to be able to do. That I wasn’t as strong anymore.
Then there was the sadness.
It wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, but sometimes it came up, a tiny voice I could ignore most of the time.
Was I a failure for wanting to walk away from my career? The career I’d spent years training for? The amount of time and money I’d invested into being a hockey player was all going down the drain, and yet . . .
I winced as my shoulder twinged. My lungs dragged in a deep breath, my ribs stretching as I held it, forcing myself to release slowly. To exhale the sense of dread.
The good news was that yoga hadn't completely destroyed me this morning. I knew I was going to be a little bit sore, but I'd still felt good enough to do all of my physical therapy today as well.
I was going to get there. One way or another, I was going to build up the strength again. The flexibility. I was going to treat my body better. I deserved it, right? After so many years of pushing myself, this was what I needed.
My phone rattled on the kitchen coffee table. I continued to do my reps, staring at it. I wasn't supposed to be afraid of my phone, that was ridiculous. But there was a small part of me that feared what would be on the screen every time the notification came through.
Avoiding everyone wasn't a good idea. I knew that.
But I didn't have answers for any of the teammates or the coaches who texted me.
I didn't know what to tell fans, didn't know how to handle shit.
Robin had told me to stay offline, but she hadn't told me how to handle all of the people that knew how to reach me personally.
She didn't tell me how to handle their concern—a concern that made me feel small.
I knew that everyone meant well by checking in on me, but it made me feel like a failure.
God, it was probably time for me to set up a therapy appointment. Not the physical kind, either. I had been going regularly for a bit, but fell out of habit . . .
I finished my reps and then released the resistance band, plopping down onto the soft couch. It creaked beneath me as sunlight slanted into the living room, warming my shoulders as if to tell me good job. I’d even done yoga. A full session, too.
I’d also witnessed firsthand the tension between Mateo and Avery.
Those two were always on my mind now, without fail. It was like clockwork through the day. One moment I’d be going through the motions, the next I’d be daydreaming about kissing one of them. Both of them.
What had happened between them? Had Austin finally caught wind of the romantic interest there and lost it?
I picked up the TV remote and flipped it on absentmindedly.
The way Austin and Dallas were lingering over Avery’s love life bothered me. She was more than capable of making her own decisions. Plus, Mateo clearly liked her. Loved her, even. He was a good man. An attractive, flirty, mustached firefighter who . . .
Needed to stop being in my thoughts so frequently.
Fucking mustache. Slutty glasses. He knew exactly what he was doing and owned it all the way. His confidence itself was a turn on.
My finger paused on the remote, my throat tightening as a sports channel flashed on the screen.
Hockey Star Done?
Replays from past games flashed on the screen as two sports journalists talked. I did my best to tune them out, but winced at the words burned out, finished, and a waste of talent.
The game they were showing replays from had been one of the hardest I’d ever played, but we’d pulled through. I’d blocked a shot that would have been one of the greatest of all time—if he’d made it.
I smiled to myself, remembering the roar of the arena.
It only took a few seconds to change a game completely.
The next clip burst my bubble. I exhaled slowly as a clip of my shoulder injury followed.
From the outside, it didn’t even look like that significant of a collision. One of the other team’s players had barreled toward me and made his shot, slipping on the way. I’d blocked the puck, but not before hitting the ground, then hitting him.
I blinked, realizing I’d never even watched the clip.
The fucking pain. It was seared in my mind, the way my rotator cuff had ripped.
The burners that followed from that injury were still an issue today.
Some of the nerves were damaged, leaving me with sudden electric shocks, tingling, pins and needles, and occasional weakness in my arm.
Sometimes shaking, although that’d lessened over time.
But I had healed some. It wasn’t constant anymore.
I was healing. I would heal. I had to heal. If I ever wanted to go back, I had to . . .
Could I even go back? Probably next season, I could hit it hard. I’d need to get back into my old routine after leaving Whynot and keep in shape while my shoulder continued to get better.
None of it appealed to me.
I turned off the TV and sat in silence.
Sitting and doing nothing didn’t appeal to me either.
I got up and headed to the front door, slipping on my boots. Eventually, I’d break these fuckers in. At least then I’d stop getting side looks from locals.
My camera bag hung from one of the jacket hooks. I slid it over my chest and stepped outside, wrinkling my nose at the heat. The sun was about to be hitting golden hour, though . . .
Which was the perfect time to snap some pictures.
Photography had been my own little secret for years.
A hobby that kept me grounded amid all the bullshit.
It was one of the few things I did for myself.
I’d never be good at fumage or any sort of art like Avery did, but a camera?
It worked for me. It made me happy. Capturing small moments, playing with lighting—photography brought me peace.
I stood on my porch and unzipped the camera bag, pulling mine out carefully. I turned it on, setting everything up.
The sound of a door slamming shut echoed down the street. I looked up right as Avery stepped out of her little house, her head tipping to the side when she spotted me.
I felt as though I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I immediately put my camera away, blush creeping up the back of my neck as she waved at me and crossed the street.
God, she was gorgeous. I swallowed hard, all my words disappearing like I was an idiot as the sunlight hit her. The blue at the ends of her hair lit up, her eyelashes long, freckles cute.
She slowed at the bottom of my step, her hands going behind her back. She’d changed out of the yoga clothes and was wearing what I’d determined to be her favorite overalls. All the paint stains only contributed more evidence.
“Hey,” she said. “How was yoga?”
I cleared my throat. “It was good.”
Fuck, I was bad at this. I was really bad at this. Why did I feel so nervous? Why were my hands so clammy? Why was I such an idiot around her?
“Good. I like her yoga classes. It’s nice to get moving so early in the mornings. I think without it, I’d turn into a shrimp.”
I raised a brow. “A shrimp?”
“Yeah. I’m always hunched over while painting.” Avery grinned. “What’s in your bag? You going out?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” I said. “I’m just taking a walk. Not sure what else to do with my evening.”
“Bored of Whynot already?”
Her teasing did something to me. My stomach twisted into a thousand butterflies, the warmth rolling up my spine getting hotter. “Never. I love it here. I think I’ve missed it.”
Avery’s smile softened. “I guess I can see why. It does have a certain charm about it. I love painting landscapes around here, too.”
“Where’s your favorite spot?”
Her eyes lit up. “Are you gonna walk there?”
“Yeah,” I said, unable to stop myself from smiling back at her. “Seems like it would be a good way to spend my evening, unless I can’t get there.”
“You can,” she said. “I already know Mateo won’t mind, but behind his backyard there’s a spot where you can see the Davis Mountains in the distance.
He’s just a couple blocks over, but there aren’t any houses close by, so it’s just a lovely view.
If you’re wanting something more modern looking, I’d check out the hotel. The courtyard is really cute.”
“Austin did a good job on it,” I said.
“He did. Worth him breaking his finger on the fountain.”
I laughed. “He flipped me off while showing the break.”
“His favorite thing to do,” she laughed with me. “Want me to give you a ride anywhere? Since your car is still out next to the cactus.”
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’ll find my way. Are you going out for the evening?”
“I wish.” Her shoulders deflated slightly. “I have Sunday night dinner.”
The way she said that told me she didn’t want to go. “With who?”
“Dallas, Austin, and my mom. She’s just . . . We have a tough relationship.”
“I’m sorry,” I said gently. “I know how that can be.”
“It’s okay,” she dismissed. “Don’t suppose you want company for whatever it is you’re doing? I could text them and tell them you needed help with something.”
Every part of me screamed yes. Having Avery take a walk with me, while it might be the simplest thing in the world, would automatically brighten up my day. Plus, the photos I could take of her . . .
But, I didn’t need Austin realizing I definitely had a thing for his sister.
“It’s more of a solo thing,” I finally said.
“Oh. Got it.” Avery sighed and glanced up at the sky. “I gotta get going, Levi. I’ll see you this week? Maybe at my art class?”
“You really want me back after I lit your hair on fire?”
Avery’s laugh was everything I needed to hear. “I always want you. I mean, uh, I want you in class. Always.” Her cheeks were as red as mine were now. “Okay, um, I’m gonna disappear into nothing now. See you later.”
I want you back. The words were on the tip of my tongue but I watched in stunned silence as she darted across the street and climbed into her big truck.
She drove off and I shook my head, clearing the fog of stupor.
There was just something about Avery Whynot that left me tongue tied.