14. Somehow, he’s even hotter when viewed with two eyes.
"Somehow, he’s even hotter when viewed with two eyes."
Aria
I’m at the hospital ophthalmologist’s office, awaiting his verdict about my cornea. I haven’t been experiencing pain—only minor discomfort—so I’m hopeful.
“It looks good,” he says before his rolling chair back. “It’s healed up nicely. Looks like you’re good to go.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
I take my coat and bag, then exit his office.
Caleb is sitting in the waiting room, and somehow, he’s even hotter when viewed with two eye s.
His dark hair is slightly tousled, like he didn’t bother to smooth it, giving him a carefree edge.
The trimmed beard on his chiseled jaw adds to his rugged look, and his eyes—a deep shade of chocolate brown—reflect a hint of curiosity as they meet mine.
“Oh, there you are. So, what’s the verdict?” he asks, standing up.
“Patch free.” I smile brightly. “It’s amazing how much better you can see with two eyes.”
His lips pull into a grin. “Fantastic.”
We hustle out of the ophthalmology ward and walk toward the elevator.
As we exit the elevator into the parking garage, Caleb says, “I have to go to practice now, but I’ll drop you off at home?”
“Sounds good. I have therapy in an hour, then I’m going to finish that book before meeting up with Marissa and Beth later to go to the game.”
“That’s great. Glad you’re hitting it off.”
I smile, feeling a spark of warmth at his words. It is nice to know I’m starting to build connections again. Believe it or not, I’m actually looking forward to seeing the girls tonight. I’m glad I’m making friends, even if everything still feels a bit new.
After therapy, I do some cleaning around the house, then finish this awesome book.
As I read the last page and close the cover, I’m suddenly eager to revisit No Shelf Control to find my next read.
I’m almost certain I was a big reader before.
It’s the first thing that really feels familiar and comforting.
Grabbing my stuff, I step into the cold winter air and walk to Warlington Lane. Drawn by the tantalizing smell of coffee and pastries, I stop first at Rise & Grind.
“Aria!” Beth beams when I come in. “So good to see you. And with both eyes.”
I chuckle. “Right? So much better. I don’t recommend the scratched cornea thing.”
She comes out from behind the counter and gives me a swift hug.
“I thought I heard your voice,” Marissa says, emerging from the backroom. “You look great. Even if the patch was kind of a fun touch.”
I laugh. “Well, I’m glad it’s gone. It was a royal pain, especially for reading.”
“Oh, right. Did you finish that book yet?” Marissa asks, her eyes sparkling.
“I did, and boy was it good. I can’t wait to dive into another one. That’s why I’m a little early, actually. I was going to go buy another title before we leave for the arena. But then I smelled coffee, so . . .”
They both laugh, and Marissa nods knowingly. “Of course. How about I make you the same coffee you ordered that day you won the ticket?” she suggests.
“That’s a great idea,” Beth says. “Why didn’t we think of that earlier?”
“Sure. Naturally, I don’t remember what I ordered,” I say with a chuckle.
“I’m pretty sure it was a latte macchiato with caramel. Coming right up.”
I take a seat at the table while I wait, and that’s when I notice all the Raptors merchandise they have for sale.
Signed posters, coasters, keychains, pucks.
Seeing all this stuff, an idea takes root.
“Hey, do you guys sell any T-shirts or sweaters? I didn’t think of asking Caleb for one for tonight’s game. ”
“That’s a great idea,” Marissa says. “But we don’t sell clothes, since they’d take up too much space. We’ll be able to get you something before the game, though. Here’s your coffee.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the steaming paper cup.
“So, how are you doing?” she asks, pulling up a chair. “Settling in okay?”
“I am.” I smile, wrapping my hands around the warm to-go cup. “It’s still a little strange, but Caleb has been amazing, and I started therapy yesterday. I’ll be going every day this week. Honestly, I feel better already.”
“I’m glad. Let me know if we can help in any way.”
“Absolutely,” Beth chimes in, leaning on the counter.
“You’re doing it already,” I say with a smile, thankful for their friendship. Sitting back, I take a sip of my macchiato. The warm, sweet flavor of the caramel and the rich tang of espresso swirl through my mouth, blanketing me in a cloud of comfort and familiarity.
After chatting with the girls for a while longer, I cross the street to No Shelf Control, where I meet the third owner, Emma.
I need to get more books and spot two that look fantastic.
She and Hayley gift me two more books, even though I insisted on paying for them.
It feels weird using Caleb’s credit card again, but the titles are buy one get one half off.
Whatever job I had or the amount in my bank account, I’m pretty sure I was able to splurge on discount books once in a while.
But Emma and Hayley insist on gifting them to me, and since I can’t be one hundred percent certain I wasn’t a wrestler in my former life, I don’t attempt to fight them over it.
The l ast thing I need is to hurt the kind-hearted people who are helping me get by.
Soon enough, it’s time to go to the arena, and Hayley, Beth, and I walk there together.
It takes about thirty minutes to reach the venue, and even if the December air is biting, the walk is pleasant.
We admire the holiday decor lining the streets while chatting about books and movies.
And even if I can’t really contribute, I take a lot of notes on my phone for later.
As the arena looms before us, the sidewalk gets more and more crowded.
Every face sports a smile, with eager fans wearing their team colors and holding banners.
A lot of fans are wearing Caleb’s number.
I guess it makes sense since he’s the captain, but I didn’t expect to see so many girls here tonight—especially ones who are wearing his jersey.
We walk through the concourse, and Marissa takes me to the event level—the backstage part of the arena where the players hang out—and lets me choose some Raptors merch, courtesy of her dad.
There are so many options, but in the end, I go with my gut, taking a jersey with Caleb’s number.
It only feels right to support him, considering everything he’s done for me.
I slip it on immediately, and I love how the smooth material feels on my skin.
I thank Marissa, and we walk back to the concourse to grab something to eat with the other girls.
“So, I take it you don’t really know anything about hockey, then?” Marissa asks, sipping her Diet Coke.
I wince. “Not really, but to be fair, I don’t know if I even followed the sport beforehand.”
“Wait a second, you’re right! You didn’t. At least, you didn’t know about the Raptors,” Beth says suddenly. “When you won, you asked what the tickets were for.”
“Oh, that’s true. I remember now,” Marissa agrees, then turns to me, her eyes sparkling. “Well, tonight will be your first introduction to this fantastic game.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Marissa is a huge fan,” Hayley says with a chuckle.
A smile tugs at my lips. “I can see that. What about you guys?”
“I was definitely not,” Hayley snorts. “But I learned to love the sport as I fell in love with Max.”
“Aww,” Marissa and Beth both say in unison. “That is super sweet. And he fell in love with reading while trying to impress you. Such a cute couple,” Marissa adds.
“I always liked hockey, I guess,” Beth says. “At least, I started to follow it when I was dating my ex—and because I was hanging out with Marissa. Now, well, I love it a lot more. I admire the team and the conn ection they have, and of course, knowing them all personally plays a huge role.”
“You’re going to have to walk me through some of the rules. I hope I won’t be too annoying.”
“It’s easy,” Marissa reassures me. “The game is pretty straightforward, for the most part. Let me explain the basics.”
After my hockey crash course, the girls and I finish our dinner and go down to our seats. We’re all seated right behind the glass next to the team’s bench. The warm-ups just ended, and fans are flocking to their seats—a sea of red and black.
“Wow, we’re close to the ice,” I say, impressed. My eyes linger on the plexiglass, and I recall how it apparently broke during the first game I attended.
“Don’t worry,” Marissa says, following my gaze. “It won’t break again. What happened that night is incredibly rare. It was crazy witnessing that. So spectacular, but rare.”
“Spectacular?” Beth exclaims. “Is that the word you’re going with? It was scary as heck.”
“Of course. I mean, not a g ood spectacular. Scary spectacular. Like, ‘wow.’ Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay,” she sputters, making us all laugh.
“Marissa is rather fond of the brutality aspect of the sport,” Beth explains, shaking her head.
“Brutality is the sport,” Marissa counters. “But it usually doesn’t involve fans.”
I cough out a laugh. “Yay me for being in the center of the action.”
Everyone laughs as the announcer cuts through the din of the crowd.
The players are called onto the ice, and the pre-game ceremonies commence.
My eyes are instantly drawn to Caleb, who’s only recognizable thanks to his number nineteen.
He looks so different with his hockey gear on.
So manly, and even a bit intimidating. But definitely sexier .
I can’t take my eyes off him as he skates into position with such ease, it’s almost like he’s flying.
Our eyes meet as he grinds to a stop. He smiles, but it falters. Before I can ask myself what that means, the referee drops the puck, and the game bursts into action.
It’s like a war has been declared on the ice. Players are smashed against the glass, which shakes dangerously. I jump each time, but thankfully, it doesn’t break.
A collective “Oh!” erupts aro und me, and I realize I must have missed something.
“What happened?” I ask Marissa, who’s sitting next to me. “I don’t get it.”
“Caleb let the puck through. It was an easy interception.” She shakes her head, her eyes on the ice. “It’s not like him to give the other team an advantage like that.”
I frown, looking back at the ice. Immediately, I spot Caleb skating behind the goal, his eyes fixed on me.