Chapter 28
Cole
I was sitting at a coffee shop, waiting for my friend to arrive, when Rhett sent a group text to me and June.
What now? I thought while opening my phone.
Rhett: Hey captain, did you hear about the extremely sweet movie date I took June on?
Me: Movie date? What are you, sixteen?
Rhett: I’ve got the sexual stamina of a sixteen-year-old, old man.
Me: I’m only three years older than you.
Rhett: Which is basically ancient. How’s that knee treating you?
June: Play nice, you two. You’re both young, fit athletes.
Me: Don’t encourage him. His ego’s already too inflated. What movie did you see?
Rhett: Young Frankenstein. I had Danny the A/V guy play it on the screen in the arena. It was EXTREMELY sweet.
Me: You already said that.
Rhett: It was worth mentioning twice. That’s how sweet it was.
June: It was indeed a very sweet date. Complete with snacks.
June: In fact, it was almost as good as the dinner date you took me on.
Rhett: HEY WAIT NO
Me: Say more things about how great our date was!
June: I especially liked that it was at a restaurant. And not at work.
Me: That was also my favorite part. Going out to eat an adult dinner, at an adult table.
Rhett: I don’t like this game anymore.
Me: Surprise surprise, Rhett Lawson can dish it out but can’t take it.
Rhett: My ego is destroyed. I’m going to retire and become a bartender back in Savannah, where they appreciate me.
June: Enough teasing. You’re not allowed to leave the team.
Rhett: Because you would miss my rugged good looks and irresistible charm?
June: No, because you’re a lot better than James, the second line right wing.
June: But also the charm. I guess.
Rhett: I’ll take it.
June: What are you guys doing for New Year’s Eve? Any big plans? My parents have told me they’re going to bed long before midnight, so I’m suddenly free.
Me: We have a noon game on January 1. Can’t stay out late.
Rhett: You’re a buzzkill, you know that? Next season I’m going to ask Coach Jay to make someone cooler the captain of the team.
Me: It’s not my rule. It’s coach’s. Because someone, who shall remain nameless, stayed out late last year and was too hungover to play the next day.
June: Does that person’s name rhyme with ‘fret’?
Me: It does! Great guess!
Rhett: It’s not my fault I drank too much. The bar we were at gave out free drinks to all the hockey players.
Me: No, that’s definitely still your fault.
June: I guess I’ll make my own plans New Year’s. Too bad.
June: But after that game… I have plans for the three of us.
Rhett: SEXY plans?
June: Maybe.
Me: Looking forward to it :-)
I chuckled as I read the texts. The three of us had a cute little thing going. June had a way of brightening my mood with just a text.
It was too bad that we had the New Year’s Day game every year. That was the downside of this job, along with Christmas always being dictated by our schedule.
But the upside of the job was everything else. And speaking of which…
The man I was meeting, Ted, weaved through the coffee shop toward my table. “Happy Holidays,” he said while shaking my hand. “It’s been a good year for you.”
“Tell me,” I replied.
Ted was my financial advisor. He managed all of my money from the moment it hit my bank account, which was a relief because math—and finances—weren’t my strong suit.
He opened a fancy printed binder and slowly went through all of my accounts and investments, explaining what my portfolio looked like now that we were at the end of the year.
“The last page shows how I’ll distribute the next Reapers check you receive on January first,” Ted explained. “I only made a few tweaks from what you requested.”
I scanned the page, stopping on one number. “Why is the amount going to Alice so small?”
“Her account is already heavily front-loaded,” Ted said. “You have more set aside for her than she will ever need, even if you never made another contribution, and I think you should—”
“No,” I interrupted. “I know I pay you to think about these numbers, Ted, but I want more set aside for her. The care she’s going to need…”
Ted held up his palms. “Hey, no worries. Message received. I’ll reconfigure things and send you an updated report.”
I thought about Alice the rest of the day. Her twentieth birthday was last week, and I was looking forward to seeing her when we were in Vancouver on the next road trip. Although it would be harder to sneak away from the team now that June was around.
I should tell her about Alice.
After considering it for a moment, I shook my head. That was a bad idea. Maybe I would tell June more about my life in the future, but not yet.
Alice was a secret I didn’t share with a lot of people.
I went to bed early on New Year’s and was able to sleep through the neighborhood fireworks thanks to a pair of earplugs. While eating breakfast alone the next morning, I marveled at the fact that it was already a new year.
Time definitely seemed to pass quicker the older you got.
Half the team was already at the arena when I arrived for our early game.
We ran through some pre-game drills on the ice, then returned to the locker room to relax before we had to go back out for the player introductions.
June was a comforting sight in the trainer’s room, calmly explaining something to our backup goalie.
I nibbled on the food tray while trying not to look like I was watching her.
There was always a good spread provided before and after each game: pasta, sandwiches, crackers, chicken and rice.
I didn’t play well when I ate a big meal right before a game, but I did like to nibble from the dessert end of the table.
They always had these amazing chocolate chip cookies, and two or three of them usually gave me enough energy for the first period.
“These taste really good today,” I told Elias, glancing past him to catch another glimpse of the woman I was sleeping with.
I must have been staring too hard, because Elias followed my gaze, then turned back to me. “She is good. June.”
“Yeah, she’s great, eh?” I said. “Fixed my knee issue right up. Haven’t had any problems since then, knock on wood.”
Elias grabbed a cookie and sniffed it. “Is she married?”
The question made me blink. “I don’t think so.”
“Is she dating anyone?”
Now there was a question I didn’t know how to answer. Up to this point, my relationship with June had remained a secret. Same for Rhett’s relationship with her, in spite of his totally platonic movie date in the arena.
I didn’t like lying to my teammates, but I also didn’t want to open this can of worms right before a big game. “Why are you asking? Are you into her?” I asked with a smile.
Elias had an intense scowl, and he turned it on me now. “A man is only asking questions.” He put the cookie down and walked away.
I shook my head. That’s what I got for trying to make small talk with Elias. He didn’t let anyone close.
Coach Jay weaved through the locker room to reach me. “The Dallas Stars just sent us their lineup. Rantanen is out.”
“Great news,” I said, coughing into my fist. Something was tickling my throat.
“This changes our entire strategy with them.” Jay leaned closer and showed me his clipboard. “They’re going to feed the puck to Seguin a lot more, now. That means you need to make sure to cover the center. Don’t let them bait you to the glass, because it’ll leave him open.”
I nodded, coughing another time.
“Cole? You all right?”
It felt like the room was getting warmer, my throat tightening up. It was almost like…
Fuck.
I spun away from the food table and lurched toward my locker. But my throat was already closed tight. It was like trying to breathe through a straw.
Players got out of my way, but I tripped on a skate on the floor. O’Malley was there, pulling me up and asking if I was okay, but I shoved him away and kept moving.
“He’s choking!” someone shouted. “Give him the Heimlich!”
I waved them off and pointed. I needed to get to my locker.
But darkness was already creeping in around the edges of my vision. I wasn’t going to make it.
Rhett was suddenly standing in front of me, asking what was wrong. I made an injection motion with my fist, but he still looked confused.
I didn’t remember falling again, but I was on my knees, gripping a nearby bench while staring straight down. I had never looked closely at the rubber floor of the locker room. It was decorated in black-and-red Reapers logos in a repeating pattern.
In that moment, I realized I was about to die.
Teammates were shouting now, strong hands trying to pat me on the back to dislodge whatever was in my throat. But I wasn’t choking. I was having an allergic reaction. If only there was a way to tell them.
It was almost funny, in a sick way.
Suddenly, June was there in front of me.
I could only see her feet, but I recognized the Hoka shoes she always wore on game days, when she had to stand for long periods of time.
I wanted to wave her away, to insist that she go somewhere else.
I didn’t want her to watch me die, to have that image forever burned into her memory.
She yanked my shorts down, then stabbed an EpiPen into the outer part of my thigh.
The effect was immediate; my throat opened a tiny fraction, allowing me to breathe. Just a little bit, but enough that I wasn’t going to lose consciousness. And it was getting better with every passing second.
I collapsed forward, my head resting in her lap. She was making cooing noises as she gently stroked my forehead.
“You’re all right,” she whispered. “I got you, Cole. I got you.”