Chapter 22 #2
Even so, I can feel the disappointment, resentment, and self-loathing coming off of Alex in waves. I know that he is kicking himself for letting the Bearcats score on him so many times, and that he’ll be blaming himself for the outcome of this game for the rest of the season.
That’s the thing about playing pro sports. All the shiny moments, the big wins, the epic victories are all shoved aside when the shit hits the fan.
The wins come and go, but the losses stick with you forever.
There’s a scuffle down on the other side of the ice, causing a symphony of blown whistles to temporarily stop the clock again. I lean forward to bang on the glass with my fist.
“Elliot, he’s not gonna hear you above all the noise,” Breaker says, but that just makes me bang harder. The laws of sound and physics can’t stop me or the indescribable connection I have with my man. He’ll hear me because he has to.
“Alex!” I call out through cupped hands before pounding the glass one more time.
He turns, and when I catch his eye through the grid of his face mask, the disappointment marring his features hits me soul deep.
My poor, sweet angel. Losing is a part of life when your job is playing sports, but Alex’s sadness cuts me like a knife.
Logic, rational, and statistics all go out the window.
The fact that there are a hundred cameras pointed directly at me doesn’t matter.
I don’t give a shit about any of that when my baby is frowning.
All I want to do is break through the glass, crawl across the ice and pull him into my arms.
I hold my hands up to the glass, making a heart with my fingers and thumbs.
Then, I place both hands on the glass and lean in, pressing my lips to the cold and kissing until the entire spot around my face is covered in fog.
When I pull back, my lip print is felt on the glass, and I use my finger to draw an “E”, a heart, and “GOAT”.
Getting the letters correct while writing backwards and in the wrong direction isn’t an easy task, but it’s worth doing right when the light returns to Alex’s eyes.
He holds a gloved hand up towards me, then taps it twice on his chest.
The world slows to a steady crawl, time moving like a snail in molasses as Alex and I gaze at each other through the glass separating us.
I’m distantly aware of the sound of the crowd and the chattering of the fans sitting close enough to have a front row seat to this cloying display of affection, but I don’t care.
I don’t step back from the glass, I don’t shy away from my feelings, and I don’t take my eyes off of Alex, even when he’s turned back to protect the net once the puck is dropped again.
Everything I’ve wanted to hear from him was right there in that small gesture.
We had sex last night, and for the first time since we started, his team is losing.
Not just losing, but failing, epically. But in the midst of the loss, the frustration, the pain, he looked for me.
That small wave of Alex’s glove, the miniscule kiss blown just for me changes everything I thought I knew.
His supposed good luck charm, me, is sitting in the stands behind him, wearing his other good luck charm to boot, and there’s not a chance in hell that Alex is going to turn this game around and win.
The superstition is broken. The end of our situationship should be right there in sight.
But it doesn’t feel like the end.
I think this is what the beginning feels like.
“Hey, Elly Belly. Remember an hour ago when you were telling us all to shut up because you didn’t want anyone in the arena to find out that you’re in love with the goalie?
That was funny, wasn’t it?” Mom nudges me hard in my side with her elbow when I sit back down, snickering at me behind my back with Breaker and Lennon.
“Keep picking on me and I’ll cancel your credit card,” I threaten, but Mom only laughs harder.
I don’t know if it’s that she knows all my threats are hollow and I’d never stop taking care of her, or the goofy, love sick grin I can’t seem to shake off my face, but her giggles make me want to double down.
“I’m serious. Good luck paying for pilates and your weekly spa trips when the AmEx is getting declined everywhere you go. ”
“Elly and Alex, sitting in a tree,” she sing-songs while poking me in the stomach.
“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Breaker and Lennon continue the song, and the three of them make smoochy faces at me until I can’t take it anymore, grumbling something about needing a drink just to get away from them.
But even their teasing can’t sour my mood.
I’m smiling the entire walk to the concession stand, grinning like a fool with every fan who stops and asks for an autograph and a selfie.
Since there’s an entire charity event happening after the game, the arena has extended their alcohol-serving time past the end of the second period.
Remembering the first night that Alex and I met, I buy a round of beers for every person waiting in the drink line with me.
Free beer might not be enough juju to undo the Bearcats’ five-two lead with only one period left to play, but a little good karma can’t hurt.
A group of guys beg me to shotgun a beer with them and I oblige, sticking with the zero proof because I know I want to be sober when I talk to Alex later.
I’m not going to hold my love for him in for one more second.