Chapter 1 #3
“Better. Still feel like I’m skating a little slow, but give it another day or two, and I’ll be as good as new.
” He beams across the table, and if I didn’t know him so well, I might believe it, but I see the wobble at the edges of his smile.
He’s still hurting, but he’s playing through it in stride.
Say what you want about hockey players, but there is no denying the toughness these guys show.
We go to war every night, and while we come out with the broken bones and bruises to prove it, we still stand tall for the next battle.
It’s one of the things I respect about every one of my teammates sitting around this table, even Lawson.
“You’re hitting fifty goals this season. I can feel it,” Rory says, running her hand through Lawson’s hair. He leans into her like the golden retriever he is, looking at her like she’s the only woman in the world, and I take another drink of my cider.
This is going to be a long, long night if I have to sit around and watch my teammates and their partners kissing and touching each other the whole time.
They think I’m being dramatic or that I’m jealous when I’m subjected to these little gatherings of ours, but it’s not that.
I just know firsthand what it’s like to have it and lose it all in the blink of an eye.
One day, you’re living your life with no worries. You have the career you’ve always wanted, the house, the nice cars, the fenced-in yard, that one person who makes you feel like you’re on top of the world…it’s all there. Then, suddenly, it’s gone. Poof. Vanishing like it never happened at all.
So, no, I’m not being dramatic, and I’m not fucking jealous either. I’m merely trying to exist when my heart stopped beating a long time ago.
Conversations ebb and flow over the next hour and a half, and though they try to get me to join in, it’s pointless when I’d rather be anywhere else.
Finally, midnight sneaks closer, and when we’re just five minutes from the clock ticking over into the new year, we stand and gather in the best semicircle this many people can form.
“Here’s to another year and another Serpents Single down!” Lawson announces. I swear he gets a thrill out of being the center of attention.
We all clink our glasses together, everyone looking at their partner with love in their eyes.
My stomach rolls at the thought of having to watch them all kiss while I stand here with nobody next to me.
Maybe I could sneak off to the bathroom.
With how crowded it is, it’s likely they wouldn’t even notice anyway.
I’m just about to step away when Lawson speaks again.
“Guys, I have an announcement.” He waits for all eyes to be on him before adding, “I love you all.”
I roll my eyes, finishing off my second cider of the night.
“Knock it off, Lawsy,” the captain grumbles.
“What he said,” Hayes agrees.
“Yep,” Locke adds.
“Aww, I love you too, buddy.” Fox grins, patting the forward on the back. I wish I could say his palpable excitement is due to his buzz, but he’s only had one drink. It’s all him.
“Finally!” Lawson throws his hands in the air. “Someone cares about me!”
I barely hold back another eye roll. Leave it to Lawson to be dramatic tonight.
The guy loves an audience, and he has a big one right now.
While the people who frequent Top Shelf are used to professional hockey players being here, this isn’t a usual night out.
The bar is packed with more people than I’ve ever seen before, and we’re getting more stares than I’d like.
A few people try to catch my eye, but I avert my gaze before they get any ideas or think I want to talk to them, which I don’t. As I’m dragging my eyes through the bar, a flash of red hair catches my eye. Is that…
No. I shake the thought away as soon as it enters my mind because it’s not possible. There’s no way it could be.
Still, I find myself squinting against the dark lighting and leaning forward.
Anything to get a clearer glimpse of the woman standing across the room, partially hidden by the horde of bodies.
Someone shifts to the right, giving me another peek, and I hold my breath as that same red comes into view again.
It’s familiar, achingly so, but I tell myself I’m overreacting.
I’m imagining it. Because there is no way she’s here in Seattle. There’s just no chance of it.
Then, almost as if I’ve willed it to happen, the crowd parts, and every ounce of me that’s felt dead for the last three years springs back to life. My breath whooshes from my lungs, and my hands shake harder than ever before.
Either this cider has hit me far harder than I anticipated, or the impossible has happened.
“What? No comment, Keller?” Lawson asks, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m acutely aware everyone is staring at me, but it doesn’t register. Not fully. How can it when she’s standing just a hundred feet away?
Is this…is this a dream? Did I fall asleep on my couch and imagine this?
But then she laughs, tossing her head back, and I know it’s not a dream. This is real. She’s here.
Finally! my mind screams as I rake my eyes over her, and fuck, I swear she’s gotten even more beautiful with time.
Her deep red hair is as gorgeous as ever, though shorter than the last time I saw it, now hitting just below her shoulders.
She’s wearing a navy dress that sparkles when she moves and hugs her curves—the same ones that felt like sin beneath my fingers—just the right way.
The freckle I’ve run my tongue over more times than I can count still sits on her right shoulder, and the urge to touch it has my fingers buzzing.
She leans her head back, laughing again, and I wish more than anything I were closer so I could hear it. Does it sound the same as it once did? Is it raspy and just a little too loud at the worst of times?
I want to know. I have to know.
I take a step toward her, ready to march over there and slant my mouth over hers, then I realize she’s not alone.
She’s. Not. Alone.
A guy—one I already hate with every fiber of my being—leans into her, his arm linked with hers, his mouth moving as he whispers something in her ear, and now my body is vibrating for a whole different reason.
I want to hit someone. More specifically, I want to punch this man who has dared to lay a hand on what belongs to me.
My eyes fall to her left hand, the one absent of the ring I slid on it ten years ago, and all it does is exacerbate the fury.
“Keller, you okay, man?”
I don’t know who asks the question, but I find myself biting out a single word. “Fine.”
It’s a damn lie. I’m not fine. Not even fucking close. My body is thrumming with more anger than I’ve felt in…fuck, I’m not even sure how long. All I know is this can’t be compared to how I felt last week pummeling that guy from Vegas, and that’s saying a lot because I fucking loathe that team.
It’s more than that. This is rage. Blinding and white, and it has me gnashing my teeth so damn hard I’m afraid they’ll break.
I don’t care, though. Let them. I’ll happily lose them all if it means he’ll stop touching her.
“Do you know her or something?” This time, I know it’s Lawson who asks the question, and that’s only because I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so somber before. It’s fitting for how I feel in this moment.
“You could say that,” I say, unable to take my eyes off her even as the guy inches closer and her smile widens. “She’s my wife.”