Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Raya
What am I doing here?
I’ve been to Comets’ games before, but I don’t usually sit with the girlfriends and wives. Usually, when I’m here, I’m working, and that’s how I prefer it. I know how to be professional.
I do not know how to be casual.
It’s not my favorite feeling, being out of place, but if this past month has taught me anything, it’s that once I get in, the water’s usually fine.
Which is why, when Eloise asked me to come, I said yes.
We find our seats in the arena, and I put myself between Poppy and Eloise and try to pretend I’m not searching the ice for a glimpse of Finn—the real reason I agreed to come to this game. As if seeing him will be enough.
Can I microdose a person?
The day after the kiss, I woke up full of regret, not because we kissed but because I pushed him away. It’s been two full days of replaying it, and every time I get to the second I told him to go, my stomach wrenches.
I screwed up.
But I can’t figure out how to fix it. What would I even say?
I screwed up. I’m sorry. That was the best kiss of my life, and it scared me. Did you still want that chance because—
Some of the women who came to the market file into the row behind us while Monica takes a seat on the other side of Poppy.
We all say our hellos, and I listen as the conversation turns to kids and husbands and things that don’t involve me.
I try to pay attention because I need the distraction, but it’s hard.
After a few minutes, Eloise shoots me a look. “Are you okay? You seem tense. I mean, more than usual.”
I fold my hands and watch as the Comets take the ice for their warm-up. “I’m just trying to figure things out now that I’m back,” I say, which isn’t a lie but also not the whole truth. “It’s hard not to fall right back into the same schedule.”
Poppy squeezes my arm. “I like that you’re lightening your load. Sometimes it feels like you think you have to conquer the world instead of just, you know, living in it.”
I study the players on the ice, searching for Finn’s number—twenty-two. Most of the guys are out there hamming it up with the fans, exactly the kind of thing he’d want to be doing.
So where is he?
Dallas throws a puck up in the air and catches it on the end of his stick.
Then he skates to the other end of the ice, serving the puck like it’s on a platter to a kid holding a big sign that says, “Can I get a puck, Burke?” The kid takes the puck and holds it over his head, a huge grin on his face.
Dallas smiles as he starts back down the ice for some pregame drills.
I squint, scanning the area around the ice, still searching for Finn.
“For someone who hates hockey, you sure are engrossed,” Eloise says. “They’re not even playing yet.”
“What else am I supposed to look at?” I keep my tone light, but I feel caught. I don’t want to be teased about this—it feels monumental to me—but they don’t know anything about how I feel about Finn and my conflicted emotions. I haven’t told them.
Why?
Just tell them you’re happy. Tell Finn you’re happy. Tell Finn he makes you happy.
Why is that so hard?
Because I’m supposed to be independent? Because I’m supposed to take care of myself?
Is that it—am I afraid of needing someone else?
I go still.
I’m afraid of needing someone else.
I’m afraid of needing someone who might change his mind about me. Someone who might leave. I’ve always been good on my own—why is Finn messing with that now?
The swirl of thoughts and emotions pinballing around my brain make me feel fidgety from the inside out. I hate when things aren’t cut and dry. I hate that none of this makes sense.
Why don’t emotions make sense?!
My knee bounces as I watch the guys start to file into the tunnel, a bunch of pucks still on the ice until Dallas shoots them all into the goal. Gray is all business and skates off without looking back, followed by Crosby, Krush, and Kemp, who all wave at the fans as they go.
Jericho and Junior each take off in opposite directions, do one last lap around the ice, meet in the middle in some sort of strange, testosterone-fueled ritual, and then the ice is clear.
“Raya, since we’re all friends here—” Kari leans forward, but it’s clear whatever she’s about to say is not meant just for me. “Can we ask what’s going on with you and Finn?”
There’s a collective “Ohhhh, and my face lights on fire.
“You guys, you guys,” Eloise says, “they’re just friends.”
A chorus of “Yeah, okay,” and “Oh, I bet they are” rings out, and I shift in my seat.
“We really are friends.” I say this with conviction, but my skin tingles at the memory of his body pressed against mine, his hands tangled in my hair, and the way his lips moved against my own.
“He’s a good friend to have,” Lisa says. “Last year, when Krush was injured, he showed up every few days to hang out with him. Rehab is super hard on these guys. It’s lonely, and I think Finn saved him from getting really depressed.”
“These guys are not themselves when they can’t play,” Monica says.
“These guys are huge babies when they can’t play,” Kari says, and the others laugh.
I picture Finn showing up the same way for me. Getting me out of the house. Taking me to the tutoring club. Getting the tree, then coming back to decorate it. What was he saving me from by doing that? I doubt I would’ve made good use of my time off without his help.
“I still can’t get over how he saved that tutoring club,” Kari says.
“That was really sweet,” Monica adds.
“Wait, what do you mean?” I turn around.
“Okay,” Kari scoots forward in her seat like she has a story she can’t wait to share.
“So you know how the guys get fan mail all the time—there was this one kid, a die-hard fan, who wrote almost every day asking for help saving this tutoring club where he went after school. I think he thinks the guys are like superheroes or something—it really was so sweet.” She beams, like she loves this story.
“He said that the club helped his family because his dad was sick or deployed or something”—she flicks her hands in the air—“and his mom worked a lot of hours. He was scared they’d have nowhere to go if the club closed.”
The image of Grace and her brothers appears in my mind.
“Right, but the club didn’t have enough money to keep going,” Kari says. “So Finn gets wind of this and decides to fund it. He donates money every month to keep them open.”
He . . . what?
“He’s also convinced a bunch of the guys to go volunteer there, and he’s brought most of those kids to games,” Monica says.
“You’re kidding,” I breathe.
Kari shakes her head. “Nope. That place would no longer exist if not for Finn Holbrook.”
“I didn’t know about any of that,” I say slowly. “I’ve actually been there.”
“Well, Brookie saved it,” Lisa says.
“Brookie.” Monica giggles. “Everyone’s favorite.”
I think about the way the people at the tutoring club responded when they saw Finn. Not just the kids, but the adults too. No wonder they all love him so much.
I go still, and Eloise leans in. “See? I told you he was a good guy.”
“I knew he was a good guy,” I say, mostly to myself.
I just didn’t know he might actually be good for me.
His words rush back.
I got you.
And I believe him. My mind is frantic, an overloaded processing system that can’t sort through the information fast enough. And then, it’s like a switch flips in my head, or a searchlight stops scanning the clouds and lands on one specific spot.
I believe him, and I want to take the risk. Even though it’s scary. Even though it might end. Because . . .
“I love him.” The words are out, barely a whisper, and I can’t take them back.
Both Eloise and Poppy look at me like they aren’t sure I said anything.
“What did you just say?” Poppy asks, shock in her voice.
I look at her. “I—You guys. I love him.”
Poppy’s eyes go wide. “You love him? Finn?”
I nod. Tears spring to my eyes. My thoughts are like gates that swing wide open, finally letting the outside world in. I’ve been trying to reason with myself, but what if I don’t have to explain it? What if I just have to accept it?
I love Finn, and if the ball’s in my court, I need to take a shot.
“I need to take a shot!” I lean forward and say this so loudly the other women all stare at me, confused.
“What’s happening now?” Kari asks, eyebrows drawn downward.
“She loves Finn!” Eloise says, practically squealing.
I feel excited, frantic, and unable to sit still.
I start talking fast. “I have to find him. He said I was in control. He said that right after we . . . and then we talked about . . . I have to find him. I have to find him and tell him that I love him.” I scoot forward, looking from Eloise to Poppy and back, unsure what to do next.
My hand goes to my head. “I’m finally ready.
I’m scared, but I’m ready. He makes me happy—I want to be happy. ”
I jump up, and my sisters do the same.
“There’s only about twenty minutes before the puck drop,” Poppy says.
I stare at her. “I have no idea what that means.”
Eloise grabs my arm. “It means we have to hurry!” She starts walking, tripping over two guys at the end of our row.
“Where are we going?” I rush up the stairs of the arena, Poppy close behind.
“We’re going to find Finn!” Eloise shouts. “This is huge! We can’t risk you chickening out!”
“I won’t chicken out!” Not again.
We reach the top of the stairs and start running, then Eloise comes to an abrupt stop. “I don’t know how to get there from here.”
I laugh. “Follow me.”
We push through the crowd, Eloise shouting, “Get out of the way! Move it, people—my sister’s in love!
Finally!” All three of us are laughing, rushing through the hallways, past the restroom lines, down three flights of stairs.
I have to flash my VIP lanyard to get access to a back hallway that leads to the locker rooms.
We’re stopped four times, and each time I show my badge, one of my sisters explains that I have fallen head over heels in love, maybe for the first time in my whole life, and a path needs to be cleared so I can tell Finn Holbrook immediately.
Once upon a time, I might’ve been mortified by this, but right now, fueled by the kind of delusion that only comes from the heart, I’m okay with it.
We rush around the corner at the end of a hallway and reach the doorway of the locker room, where yet another security guard stands at attention.
We all stop, breathing heavy, and it’s Poppy who says, “We have to talk to Finn Holbrook immediately.”
I’m bent over, trying to catch my breath, and I hold my badge up so the guy can see it.
“Please, it’s an emergency,” Poppy says.
“A romantic emergency,” Eloise says.
“A what now?” the man says.
“A work emergency,” I say. “We need to see him before the game starts.”
He looks at his watch. “Ma’am they’re about to go out.”
“I’ll be quick.” I stand upright.
He looks at all three of us, suspicion on his face. “Stay here.”
He disappears behind the door, and I look at Poppy, then Eloise, fear knotting in my stomach. “Oh my gosh. What am I going to say?”
“Just be honest,” Eloise says, smiling.
I cover my face with my hands and let out a loud, hearty laugh. I love Finn. I’m in love with Finn. I’m terrified. It could all go up in flames. I might get really hurt. But I have to at least try, right? I owe him the chance he asked for.
“I can’t believe this,” Poppy says. “You finally came to your senses!”
I smile at her, so thankful for these two sisters and how beautifully they’ve grown up. Two strong, independent women who don’t need a big sister to look after them anymore—just a friend to come alongside them.
Which is exactly what they are to me.
The door opens, and my breath catches in my throat. But it’s the security guard, not Finn. He looks at me, then at my sisters. “Sorry, ladies, Holbrook isn’t back there.”
My heart stops. “What?”
“Seems he took off for Christmas a day early,” the guard says. “Left for Montana last night.”
Wait. What? He didn’t tell me.
But then, why would he when he promised to give me space?
“Game’s starting in five,” the man resumes his post. “Better get back to your seats.”
I look at Poppy, then Eloise, still feeling like all of my nerves are firing at the same time, unsure of what to do next.
And then, in a flash—I know.
I see a picture of Finn in my head. It’s from the first time I saw him seven years ago, and I realize I never updated that image. I kept him in that box, seeing him as that twenty-two-year-old kid. Goofy and unserious—and in my head, those were always flaws that kept me from looking deeper.
My mind runs through a series of memories with the updated picture of Finn fresh in my mind. Smiling. Laughing. Picking up Bodie and tossing him over his shoulder. Singing Christmas songs at the top of his lungs. Showing up on my porch with a box of Christmas decorations or a white chocolate mocha.
I see him in Poppy’s Kitchen, sleeves rolled, apron on, ready to jump in and help.
On the ice, celebrating, cheering, living.
I see cinnamon toast and Advil and tiny gourmet chocolates.
I hear the tiny voice on the other end of his FaceTime call, so worried that he’s okay, and the way he spoke to his mother—not like she was a nuisance—but like she mattered.
I see this man, who’s shown me the value of fun despite the depth of pain he hides behind that wide smile. And I start to think these little things all add up to big things. These little things all add up to Finn living like it matters.
It’s not accidental. He is the way he is and does the things he does on purpose.
Which means making his feelings known was a choice.
The picture of him in my head was so outdated. The realization shocks my heart like a jolt of electricity.
He showed up for me.
And now it’s time I showed up for him.
Without saying another word, I pull out my phone and open a browser to a blank webpage.
I type in “Flights from Chicago to Montana” and click Go.