Chapter 17 #2
I glance up at the Megatron. They’ve turned on the kiss cam. A smile tugs on my lips as it jumps around the arena, flashing on different couples. And then it’s me! My own damn face is on the Megatron, the camera zooming in on Steven and me.
“Oh! That’s us!” Steven immediately turns toward me, his hands grabbing the sides of my face as he pulls me to look at him. We’re both laughing, heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks as he plants a wet kiss on my lips.
“Oh my gosh, are you drooling?” I snort, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
Steven laughs and winks. “Maybe it’s you who is drooling over that hot boss of yours.”
“Oh please,” I chuckle, rolling my eyes at him as I slowly direct my gaze back out to the ice. Caleb stands just on the other side of the boards, his face stone cold as he stares back at me. My breath catches in my throat and my stomach tumbles onto the floor.
Caleb tears his gaze from mine and heads back to the center of the ice. My heart stumbles over itself and I watch him get ready for the face-off. The puck drops and he wins it, but instead of engaging in play, he drives his palms into the chest of the other team’s center.
What the hell?
The guy looks visibly pissed off, shouting something inaudible to Caleb.
In less than two seconds, both of them are throwing their gloves onto the ice and engaging in a full on fist fight.
Instinctively, I rise to my feet, my hands covering my mouth in horror as the two men tousle, both of them throwing punches before going down on the ice with Caleb on top.
The refs break them up, hauling both players to their feet. Caleb glances over to the bench, eyes wild with blood dripping from his lip and eyebrow. I’m cemented in place, my heart forgetting how to beat and my lungs forgetting how to inhale and exhale properly.
Both of the guys are escorted over to the penalty box and I’m stuck standing motionless. Steven tugs on my arm, urging me to sit back down. “Mia, are you okay? You’re pale as shit.”
“Yeah, I—uh. It must just be the alcohol.” I pause, nervously tucking my hair behind my ears. My buzz vanished the second I watched Caleb drive his fist into another man’s face. “I actually have to go.”
Steven’s eyebrows draw inward. “What?”
“I have to watch his daughter after the second period so I should go check on her.” I swallow roughly, my heart pounding against my ribcage. “I’m sorry to run out on you. We’ll catch up next time you’re back in town.”
Steven’s eyes are filled with concern, but he concedes. He nods and pulls me in for a hug. “Okay. Text me later, okay?”
“Okay,” I tell him, nodding as I rise from my seat as play stops again.
I use the opportunity to quickly head up the stairs and back into the concourse.
I find the nearest bathroom, pausing inside to catch my breath.
I close my eyes and let my head tilt back against the wall as I focus on my breathing.
After a few moments, my anxiety starts to settle.
I walk to the sink to wash my hands, letting the cool water regulate my nervous system.
I don’t know what the hell just happened.
And I’m not so sure I want to know what caused it.
I adjust Tella in my arms and she wraps hers tighter around my neck, a soft sigh escaping her as she settles against me.
She fell asleep at the beginning of the third period.
I scooped her up and carried her out into the hallway after the game finished.
Most of the other families have already left so it’s just Tella and me lingering near the exit, waiting for Caleb.
He comes out of the dressing room, hair damp from showering as he steps out into the hall.
He pauses, his head on a swivel as he looks for the two of us, only stopping when he sees me holding Tella.
His gaze fixes on mine, but as he strides over, he drops it down to the floor, as if he’s avoiding eye contact.
“I can take her,” he mumbles, extending his arms to take her from me.
I don’t argue with him. I release her, letting him situate her in his arms. She doesn’t even wake up from the shift and instead settles against his neck, her mouth opening as she yawns. My eyes trail over Caleb’s face, over the cut on his eyebrow and the one in his swollen bottom lip.
“What happened out there?”
He doesn’t look at me as he starts to walk to the exit. “It doesn’t matter,” he replies, his tone clipped and voice hoarse.
He pushes open the door with his foot and I immediately take it from him, squeezing my body between him and the door as I hold it open for him. “Thanks,” he grinds out, skirting around me, as if he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me.
My throat constricts, but I follow after him, heading in the direction of his car. “I can get a ride home, if you’d prefer,” I offer. My car is at his house, but his body language tells me everything I need to know. He doesn’t even want to be in the general proximity of me.
We both stop as we reach his car. He pulls open the back door, his eyes falling shut as he inhales sharply. “Get in the car, Mia.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Mia,” he breathes out my name. “Get in the fucking car.” His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his eyes slicing to mine. “Please,” he adds, his voice hoarse and just above a whisper.
My chest tightens and I give him a swift nod. “Okay.”
Without another word, I climb into the passenger seat, my heart in my throat as I wait for him to get Tella strapped into her booster.
Time stretches and it feels like an eternity as the blood rushes in my ears.
Finally, he shuts her door and walks over to the driver’s side, sliding in behind the steering wheel.
He’s silent as he buckles his seatbelt and turns on the car, slowly easing out of the parking space. I swallow again, nervously tucking my hair behind my ear as Caleb drives us in complete silence, heading onto the main road in front of the arena.
I’ve been racking my brain for the last week, trying to figure out where I went wrong with us almost kissing. He said it was his fault, but what feels even worse is the fact that he regrets it and I don’t. He’s iced me out because of it and I don’t know if it’s my anxiety or . . .
“Did I do something to upset you?” The words tumble from my lips in a rush. I turn my head to look at him. “I’m at a loss for where I went wrong or what I did.”
The muscle in his jaw clenches and I watch the way his fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel. “I don’t want to talk about any of this until we’re home.”
I straighten my spine, pressing it back against the leather seat. My anxiety peaks and I thread my fingers through one another in my lap. “Can you just tell me what I did?”
“You didn’t do anything.” He blows out a breath, working that muscle in his jaw once more. “I’m not mad at you.” His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “I’m mad at myself.”