23. Nica
23
NICA
“Audrey! You know what to do.”
“Already on it. Joey’s headed to the press box. I’m gone. Hopefully back in a few.”
Audrey’s conversation with her father played dimly in the back of my awareness. I stood at the front of the box, staring down at the scene below me. My hands covered my mouth while Ryan coasted off the ice and disappeared.
Stella walked up beside me. “Hey. I’m sure he’s fine.”
I flashed a worried smile as some of the other women gathered around, touching my shoulders in support. Is this really happening? Any of it? Am I in the owner’s box with all the WAGs? Is Ryan… oh, god. Is he okay?
I’d texted Audrey this morning for a ticket, but she blew that off and invited me to the owner’s box again. When I arrived, she had opened the door with a knowing smile. “Hey! Join the party.”
The Cathcart box was full. Stella Rivera said hello right away. She and I had met a few times thanks to Audrey. I also met Ana Valentine, Tonya Ivanov, and other long-term Commodores WAGs.
While everyone mingled and nibbled from the snack spread, I slid up to Audrey and raised my eyebrow. “You could’ve just given me a press pass.”
She shrugged, but her cheeks went pink. “Uh, Ryan texted me this morning before practice saying you’d be in touch. So I thought you should hang with us. Plus, Atlanta is always an event. You might as well meet a few new people.”
“I told you. We’re not dating!” I hissed. My lips twitched at her transparency.
“Well, that was several days ago! And I notice you’ve got a new jersey tonight. Cute beanie, by the way. They, uh, don’t sell that one at the gift shop, though.” Her eyes sparkled with delight as she gave me an arched eyebrow.
I wrinkled my nose and touched the black knit hat. “That doesn’t mean that… that… ugh. Fine. Maybe it’s a little more of a situation.”
She squealed. “I love that for him! And you. He’s so great, Nica. You two would be awesome together.”
“Thanks. So are these ladies going to vet me or something?”
She blinked. “No. What? Not at all. Ugh, go drink some champagne and stop making me feel awkward.”
I laughed and wandered over to the bar. Try as I might to hide in the shadows, the women made a point to pull me into conversations. They all knew I was connected to Ryan, which I guess my MOLLOY 34 jersey didn’t hide, although no one asked me about him. And not a single person mentioned my now-defunct social media handle.
It was… lovely. Shockingly fun.
Ryan made us gasp when he knocked that guy down early in the game. I listened while they speculated over why he did it. Mostly what I understood was that the Atlanta player was Enemy Number One in Connecticut. I followed the team, but I hadn’t put together that he was such a problem. Play resumed, and we watched while our guys killed a penalty—and then ended the period with a goal!
That cheering was nothing compared to intermission. As soon as Dustin Simmons skated out on the ice, Ana coughed on her champagne. “Oh, he’s going to do it!” she gasped.
“About time!” Audrey laughed, but then she lunged for her phone. “Shit. I’ve got to call Joey and tell him to?—”
Stella plucked the phone out of her hand. She gestured to the jumbotron and then to the press box, where we could see cameras following every move. “Joey’s on it, hun. Chill.”
So Audrey skipped down the aisle to join the women at the window. She grabbed my hand along the way, pulling me out of my chair. I wound up squished between her and Stella. They both held my hands, and I realized we’d made a chain. As soon as Jazzlynne nodded, the room erupted in excited shrieks. Champagne appeared for everyone while Ana, as the captain’s wife, made a toast.
Lovely. Shockingly lovely. Even more shocking was how not awkward it was to be among them.
Just when I was allowing myself to relax into the evening, shit really went sideways.
Players had been battling for possession at the side of Ryan’s crease. The puck slipped around the back of the net, and most of the players went after it—except 92. I think I yelped when he threw himself through the air, leading with his elbow aimed at Ryan’s throat. They both crashed to the ground. I jumped to my feet along with several others in the box, Hunter included.
Ryan lay flat on his back. His helmet wobbled on the ice beside him, but he didn’t move. For a long moment, it was as if someone had pressed pause on the whole arena—and on my heart.
“Jesus Christ. Don’t tell me he’s hurt too,” Hunter whispered in the tense silence.
Ninety-Two rolled to his side and sat up. As soon as he did, Ethan Rivera fucking stormed from the sidelines. His gloves and helmet hit the ice as he motioned 92 to his feet, but Stella’s husband wasn’t going to wait. He crashed down on that bastard, sending him sprawling as he threw punches with both hands.
Stella gasped. The pause ended.
The arena shook with energy. Rivera beat the ever-loving shit out of 92. Meanwhile, players faced off all over the ice. Gear was everywhere. Punches flew, jerseys got yanked over heads—it was wild. I’d never been at an Atlanta game before, but holy shit , I suddenly understood the bad blood.
But I noticed all of this as an afterthought because Ryan was still on his back. I registered the frenetic action while my gaze stayed on the man lying in the blue paint. Two official-looking dudes shuffled out to check on him.
“That’s Doc and Coach Bowman, the goalie coach,” Audrey said from beside me.
I couldn’t look at her. I could barely blink. My heart beat in my throat.
After a few moments, Ryan sat up. The fighting died down, and the fans quieted again. They cheered when he got to his feet and skated off without help. I watched him nod at Rivera and the backup goalie.
And then he was gone.
I barely moved when Audrey tugged my sleeve. “Nica. Come on.”
“Huh?” At last, I tore my eyes from the window.
She jerked her head toward the door. “Come with me.”
“Where? What’s going on? Is he?—”
But she grasped my wrist to guide me through the sea of concerned faces and out of the box.
Dumbly, I followed her down the hallway and to an elevator. She didn’t offer any explanation, and I didn’t know what to ask. Panic wrapped around my throat, making me want to hide away from this entire scene.
We emptied out into a very familiar hallway. The media room was just behind us. Blue and navy stripes lined the walls. My feet followed her down to the T, knowing we were going to turn left. But my brain wouldn’t accept that we were really headed to the locker room until I was standing in it. I kept my gaze on the back of Audrey’s head as a very different kind of panic battled for control. Damn imposter syndrome for the way it screamed how utterly wrong I was to be here.
Oh, but then.
“Nica?”
The hope in that man’s voice. He was raspy and softer than usual, but the sound of my name filled my head and made tears sting my eyes.
Audrey stepped aside, motioning me forward. I made myself move toward where he sat, still in his gear. His pads made him huge . It was like a wall surrounded him.
A wall that I wanted to tear down so I could climb in his damn lap.
Gear aside, he looked like Ryan. His hair was wet with sweat and slicked back from his face. He blinked at me. The light in his eyes trickled down and curved his lips.
“Hey, Trouble. I like that jersey you’ve got on.”
I bit my tongue and tried to smile back. “Goalie. What the hell happened out there?”
“Eh, just a little misunderstanding.” His tone was light, but something angry flashed on his face.
“What’s the status, Doc?” Audrey asked.
“He’s fine. No head injury. Knocked the wind out of him for a minute, but I see no reason he can’t play.”
“But that guy hit his face with his elbow.”
It took me a second to realize I’d actually spoken aloud.
The doctor smiled. “Helmets work wonders. Molls lost his breath when he hit the ice. The hit rattled him, but no trauma. If he feels up to returning, he’s clear to go.”
Everyone looked at Ryan.
He nodded. “I’ll start the third.”
Audrey’s gaze was on her phone. “Good because Jimmy’s given up one goal already. No pressure, of course, Molloy.”
She put the phone away and looked around. “There are five minutes left in the period. I’m going to go update Joey so he can spread the word. Nica, you want to meet me back in the box at intermission?”
“Uh. Sure?”
She nodded and spun for the door. The coach gave Ryan a pat on the shoulder pad and said something about getting back to the bench. The doctor squinted at his patient.
“There is no pressure to play again tonight if you don’t feel up for it. You tell me if anything is off, you hear?”
“Yes, Doc. I’m good to go.”
“Good man. Rest for a bit.”
And then, he was gone, too.
Ryan and I looked at each other.
He patted the bench beside him. “Sit?”
As soon as I did, I slumped forward and covered my face with both hands. A soul-heavy sigh dumped out of me.
“Wow. You okay?”
“Sorry. I should be asking you that. It’s just… god, that scared me.”
“Aw. Don’t be scared. If we lose, we lose. There will be other games.”
I snapped my hands away, jaw unhinged. His cheeky smile kept my reply at bay. Instead, I twisted my lips and rolled my eyes.
Ryan turned toward me. “I’m okay, Nica. You don’t have to be scared.”
“Not sure I’m the good luck you needed tonight.”
“Mm, hard disagree.” He reached out and traced my jaw, urging me to lean in. Ryan brushed a soft kiss on my mouth and hummed. “ Hard disagree. Which is about to get really uncomfortable in this jock strap.”
A relieved giggle bubbled out of me. “Hush.”
Ryan quirked a brow and glanced at the TV in the corner. He winced, and I looked over to see we were now losing 2-1. On top of that, the clock was winding down to end the period.
I jumped up. No way should I be here when the entire freaking team stormed in.
But Ryan snagged my fingers before I could bolt. He gazed up at me and wet his lips. “There’ll be a party at Gene’s tonight for Dustin and Jazzlynne.”
“Oh. Oh, so we won’t?—”
“Get to go home right away, no.” He squeezed and gave me a pointed look. “What do you think, Trouble? Can you handle being my date to a team party?”
His date. To a team event. Just waltz into the captain of the Commodores’ house. Girlie, you are out of your mind.
“Okay.”
He grinned and released me. I hesitated, looked at the door, and spun back to him. Ryan held my waist as I gripped those massive shoulder pads and leaned in. I kissed him again and pulled away all in one breath. Then, I ran for the door. The team was marching down the hall, but I managed to reach the turn back to the elevator just before they got to me.
Gene Valentine totally saw me. He wore a concentrated scowl that deepened when we caught eyes. Just before I ducked away, though, his brows lifted in a knowing smile.
This whole night should’ve been giving me so many imposter vibes. There I was, striding around the freaking Commodores’ arena like a VIP. All the actual VIPs seemed totally accepting of my presence. And Ryan Molloy just kissed me in the locker room. Was this a fever dream?
And why did it all feel so real?
In the elevator, I shared a clip of the surprise proposal and congratulated the happy couple. My Ryan post from tonight was a replay of him knocking that guy flat. Tons of fans had commented in the past few minutes to say they hoped he was okay, but I didn’t feel right about giving an update yet. He would be back on the ice in 20 minutes. They could find out then.
I slipped back into the owner’s box, trying to go unnoticed. Every single person turned when I walked in, though. “How is he?” hit me from all sides.
“He’s good. He’s going to play the final period.”
Relief washed over the room. Chitchat resumed, so I hung back, unsure what to do with myself. Luckily, intermission didn’t last long. Audrey walked in just as the period started. We all turned to the window when a roar went up from the crowd. Ryan waved his stick in the air as he coasted toward the net.
I hovered around Audrey while she spoke with Stella, who tossed her long hair and shook her head. “What a mess. Ethan got a five-minute major for beating the shit out of that dirtbag. Dustin, Max, and even Gene got minors. Poor Jimmy. He didn’t stand a chance killing off those penalties.”
Audrey sighed. “I remember when Jimmy was our full-time backup. Those were different days, bless him.”
“Mm, yeah, he’s not up for a team like Atlanta. I hope Ryan’s really okay?”
“Doc says yes, and Doc’s not one to take chances.”
That made me feel better.
“How did he seem?” Stella asked.
It took me a beat to realize they were both looking at me.
“He, uh… the same. He seemed like Ryan.”
They traded a look. Audrey wiggled her head side to side. “Between those two assessments, I feel good about it.”
“Atta boy!” Hunter Cathcart yelled. We spun around to see a replay on the jumbotron of Ryan snatching a puck out of the air.
After that, we quit talking and focused on the game. Ryan nearly missed a save, but Yuri kept it from rolling in. After that, Connecticut went on offense. Gene snuck the puck in the net around the Atlanta goalie’s pads. While the fans were still cheering, Ethan delivered a slapshot that whizzed right past the goalie’s shoulder and lit up the red light again.
We won 3-2. The window’s glass vibrated with horns and cheers while we celebrated right along with them.
Ana Valentine threw up her hands. “Let’s go celebrate and toast Dustin and Jazzlynne! Party time, ladies!”
Audrey nudged my shoulder. “You coming?”
I blew out a breath. “Yeah. I’m in.”