Chapter 30
BEN
“You did not just ask me that!” Maddy laughs in disbelief at me through the phone. Her hair looks freshly washed and her skin glows in the dewy way it does after a shower. I can practically smell her cucumber body wash.
She looks good. Rested and healthy. My own appearance in the little square of this Facetime call looks haggard in comparison. Like I tossed and turned most of the night, worrying that she’d need me and I wouldn’t be there.
“But the doctor said—”
“I remember what the doctor said, Ben. She said it to me. And if I have any difficulty going to the bathroom, I promise I will get myself checked out.”
I don’t understand why she’s so embarrassed.
I’d assumed that I’d be helping her do all these things after she was discharged.
And I would have. Without hesitation. But she hadn’t needed me as much as I thought she would, and while I know that’s a good thing, part of me wishes that she had.
I felt so helpless when she was in the hospital.
“It’s just if you don’t, it can increase your chance of infection. Speaking of which, how is your incision site?”
“My incision site?”
“Yeah.” I scratch the scruff on my jaw. I don’t normally go this long without shaving and it’s itchy. “Any redness or swelling? Draining? Pain?”
“No, Ben.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Are you taking your temperature often? Any fever or chills?”
Maddy bites her lip like she’s holding back laughter, drawing my attention to the mouth I love so much. She smiles and shakes her head.
“Ben. I know you’re worried, but you have to trust me when I say I’m okay.
I’ve done everything the doctor told me to.
I’m taking it easy and not lifting anything.
My mom is taking really good care of me.
I’m still taking Advil for the inflammation, but I haven’t needed painkillers today.
I feel fine. Better than fine, actually. ”
She does look fine. Fresh and bright-eyed, not a trace of makeup on her freckled face. I want to be there in person to make sure she’s really as well as she seems and it’s not just some magical filter she’s using to trick me into not worrying.
“How are you?” Her brow furrows in concern as she squints at me on her screen.
“Don’t worry about me, Madness.”
“But you make worrying look like such a good time,” she says dryly. “Why do you get to have all the fun?”
I grin despite my exhaustion. “Well, you must be feeling better if you’re able to serve me all this sass.”
“I thought you liked my sass.”
“Nah, you’re mistaken. I like your ass.” My smile grows wider as her face flushes on the screen. “I love it, actually.”
Images of recent nights spent tangled up with Maddy dance in my mind making me miss her even more.
“You have to leave for a skate, don’t you? You probably shouldn’t be thinking about my ass.”
“You’re right,” I agree, solemnly before adding, “Tell me what you’re wearing?”
My question starts a laugh out of her. “What?”
“I can tell you’re wearing my training camp t-shirt.” I run my tongue over my bottom lip as I stare at her face on my phone. Seeing Maddy in my clothes is unlocking a new level of caveman in my psyche. I see her wearing anything that belongs to me and my brain screams MINE.
“I am,” she concedes, her voice taking on a sultry tone.
“Tell me what else you’re wearing. ‘Cause in my head, it’s just my shirt and thinking about you walking around, bottomless like Winnie The Pooh is just making me hard.”
Her laughter is loud and I swear it’s a sound I would live and die for. “I’m not Donald Ducking around your condo. I’m wearing a pair of your joggers.”
I ignore the fact that she continues to refer to it as my condo. I know it’s mine on paper, but I want her to think of it as her home, too.
“Hmmm.” I don’t mean it to come out like a growl, but I can’t help it. “And what panties do you have on?”
Her lips quirk up and her eyes spark with amusement. “Well. My underwear was putting pressure on my incision…”
I sit up in the hotel bed, one hand gripping my phone, the other adjusting the semi that’s currently tenting my sweats. “Madness. Are you telling me you’re wearing my joggers and only my joggers?”
She bites her lower lip and nods. My tortured groan is met by her half-giddy giggle as I collapse back on the pillows.
In the background I can hear Maddy’s mom calling her name. She turns and responds, “On my way!” before turning back to me. “Lunch is ready so I have to let you go. Have fun at your team skate.”
“You’re lucky I love you. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to skate with a hard on, baby?”
“Can’t say I do, big guy. Try not to poke anyone’s eye out. Bye!”
I step off the ice a few hours later feeling better than a person should after a meager three hours of sleep. More than anything I wish I were home with Maddy, taking care of her any way I can, any way she’ll let me. But after our call this morning, I felt better than I have all week.
She just seemed so…good. So vibrant. Happy, even. The most Maddy-like I’ve seen her since she came back into my life. Finally, the knot that formed in my chest at the hospital started to loosen and unwind itself.
She’s okay, I tell myself for the umpteenth time since I left her yesterday, forced to get on a plane and go to another country.
“Michaels.”
I freeze just before I reach the locker room and turn back to meet Coach Stetson’s fixed stare.
“Yes, Coach?”
“A word.” He turns and walks. I follow.
We wind up in a small office, maybe used for an equipment manager. He shuts the door behind me then walks around the small desk and takes a seat. He gestures at the chair opposite and I drop into it.
I’m not a hundred percent sure why I’ve been summoned, but if I had to guess, it’s because I requested the time off.
When he denied my request and told me I was expected to be on the plane with my teammates yesterday, I didn’t argue.
I didn’t utter one of the many expletives I had on the tip of my tongue when he confirmed I had to go.
I just told him that I understood and hung up the phone.
Stetson doesn’t move so much as a millimeter as he sits in the chair that’s far too small for him.
The man really is broad like a mountain, and just as stoney.
I wait for him to call me out on not having my priorities in order.
To tear a strip off me for requesting time I wasn’t entitled to. To ring me out for hanging up on him.
“How is your friend?”
The question catches me off guard. Not only because he’s never inquired about my personal life before but because Maddy is so much more than a friend. But I’m not about to attempt to define my relationship with the man in front of me.
“She’s doing well. Thank you for asking.”
He seems to be waiting for me to continue, but I’m honestly not sure what he wants to hear, so I decide to keep my mouth shut and let him say what he needs to say.
Coach clears his throat. “Good. That’s good.
” He leans forward, arms resting on the desk as he regards me.
“Look, Michaels. You’re off to a great start this season.
You’ve always played well for me, but this year?
This year you’ve really leveled up. And I’m not the only one who’s noticing.
People throughout the organization are all talking about what an asset you are to the Otters.
On and off the ice. This…charity work you’ve been doing, it’s gotten a lot of good press for the entire team.
I just want to be sure that you’re not over-extending.
Because you have a lot of years left in your career and if you keep playing the way you’ve been playing and setting a good example for your teammates, I see a captain's badge in your future.”
It’s like I’m on some kind of delayed reaction because his words don’t register right away. This is what I wanted. What I aspired to. I dreamt of this kind of feedback from my coach for years. It’s what I've been working towards. What I’ve been dying to hear.
But sitting here in this cramped space, the words don’t hit the way I thought they would. There’s no wave of joy or vindication. I thought that hearing these things was everything I wanted but now that they’re here, they leave me feeling hollow.
Coach is looking at me expectantly and I force myself to speak.
“Thank you, sir. I have worked really hard and I’m grateful that it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
He nods, looking relieved as he relaxes back into his chair. A small smile graces his lips, so brief I’m not sure it even happened.
“You had me worried,” he admits. “When you asked to skip the game. I thought you were going to refuse to play and I’d have to suspend you. I would have hated to do it. You’ve done so well and it would be a damn shame to see all your hard work be jeopardized by some passing distraction.”
Hearing the woman I loved described that way has my jaw flexing and my hands tightening into fists.
I hold his gaze as I’m the one to lean forward this time.
“With all due respect, Coach, that passing distraction is the only reason I’m here right now.
If she had asked me to stay with her, I would have.
In fact, she insisted that I come. So I’m here.
And I will play tonight. And again in two days.
And two days after that. I will give everything I have to this team and organization that has given me so much in return.
But I think you should set your sights on someone else for your captain.
Because if the time ever comes where I have to choose the team or her, I will choose her. ”
“Michaels, I didn’t mean to imply…I just want you to think about your future.”
“Madelyn is my future. I’m thirty years old. I’ve already had the career most guys dream about, but, realistically, how many more years do I have before I retire? Six? Maybe eight if I’m lucky. And that’s if everything goes well. I could get injured tonight and be done.”
He winces like I’ve slashed him with a stick. “Don’t talk like that, kid.”
“It’s not like I want to get hurt, but it’s a risk I take every time I step on the ice. You know that better than anyone.”
Coach Stetson’s jaw flexes, but he says nothing. He was at the top of his game when his Achilles tendon was sliced by a skate during play. That’s all it takes.
“I need you to know that I’m grateful every day for the opportunities I’ve been given. I love my teammates, my team, my fans. I love hockey.” My voice fractures, but I push through. “But I love her more. And if I have to choose, I’ll choose her.”
He considers for a long time before placing his hands on the desk and raising to stand. Instinctively, I stand too. I’m not sure if it’s out of respect or fear.
“Go get some rest,” he says finally. “Bus leaves the hotel at 1800 hours.”
“Yes, sir.” I give him one final nod before turning and walking out.
“Michaels?” Coach calls before I get far and I look back over my shoulder. “I’m glad your girl’s okay.”
“Thank you, sir.”