Chapter Sixteen
AUSTIN
After a long, stressful day, a few messages from Isabella are exactly what I need to bring a smile to my face. Seeing her name on my screen instantly lightens the mood.
She had a great appointment with her doctor and is moving on to the next step in her recovery. I couldn't be happier about her news, and the fact that she wanted to share it with me makes it even better.
As soon as I get to my hotel room, I throw my bag on the extra bed and call her.
"Hey, how are you?" she answers.
"I'm good now," I tell her, kicking off my shoes. "Sorry I didn't text you back sooner. It's been quite a day."
"I totally understand. Was the coach as fired up as you expected?”
“No—he was worse,” I reply. "But it doesn’t matter. Tell me about the appointment. No more boot?"
"It's gone," she shrieks.
I laugh. "Congratulations. Are you saving it as a keepsake?"
"What? I wasn't planning on it,” she says with a giggle.
"Really? I figured you'd put it in a display case and maybe hang it up in your house. It could be a great decoration, think of it as a conversation piece.”
She laughs. "Hmm…I'll keep that in mind."
"So what else did the doctor say? What’s next? You need to do some therapy, right?”
"Yes, I have a lot of physical therapy ahead of me," she tells me. "It's going to take time, but I'm prepared for it. And I'm determined to come back even better than I was before."
I smile to myself. "Isabella Martin, you continue to impress me. That's exactly the attitude I expected from you, and I have no doubt you will show up and absolutely kill it, stronger than ever."
She lets out a soft laugh. "Thank you for believing in me. I’m determined to do exactly that."
"You're very welcome," I tell her. "And I can't wait to see you without the boot."
For a moment, neither of us says anything. The silence is familiar and comfortable like it always is. I really like knowing that we don’t feel the need to fill up every second of our conversations.
"In other news," she says, breaking the quiet, "my sister-in-law just decided to throw a Halloween party, and I was wondering if you'd like to go with me."
"Of course. I'd love to be your plus-one, " I answer without hesitation. “Hopefully we don’t have a game that day.” I'll take any excuse I can to spend time with her, but a game is the one thing I can’t get out of. "What's the date? Let me check our schedule."
"Um…it’s Friday the twelfth."
I pull up the date and grin when I see we're off that day.
"Good news. No game."
"Oh, awesome." She pauses for a second. "And just so you know, it's a costume party. But you don't have to dress up if you don't want to."
I laugh. "Are you kidding? I'll totally dress up. Can I go as a hockey player?"
She bursts out laughing. "Oh, I love that idea. Maybe I can borrow an extra jersey and be a hockey player too."
I stretch out across the bed and throw my arm over my forehead. "Wait. Do you really want to dress up as a hockey player? I’m sure you had something else in mind."
"Sure. It’ll be fun," she says enthusiastically. "And it'll probably irritate my mom, which makes it even better."
I laugh. "I don't think I want to irritate your mom. I'm supposed to be impressing her."
"Oh, don't worry about that. You already accomplished that when you went along with her little white lie to Dex."
"Well then that’s a relief," I say, smiling. "Mission accomplished."
"Yes, it is,” she exclaims. "Anyway, how’s the road trip? Is the team ready for the next few days?"
"I certainly hope so. None of us want a repeat of the other night." I shake my head, thinking back to the loss. "Today was rough, but we had a good practice, and it felt like we were all on the same page. Hopefully it’s a sign that we’re turning things around."
"I'm sure you are,” she assures me. “It was just a bad night.”
"Maybe." I hesitate before adding, "But I wish you were here. I've gotten used to seeing you after games.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds.
"I wish I were there too," she says softly. "At least it's only a few days, and then you’ll be back."
A few days. For some reason, it feels more like an eternity. I’d like to tell her this, but I keep the thought to myself.
I’m not afraid of being honest about how I’m feeling. I just don't want her to feel pressured. Whatever is happening between us, it's worth taking the time to get it right. The only problem is we don’t have much time because at some point she’s going home.
“Yes, a few days,” I say. “And wasn’t there something you were saying about challenging me to a round of mini golf?”
“Not exactly,” she says. “I told you I would be winning that round of mini golf. Plus I don’t have a boot to get in the way anymore. I hope you’re prepared for some tough competition.”
“I accept the challenge, Ms. Martin.”
As soon as I start yawning, I know it’s time for me to get ready to turn in. If it wasn’t for my game, I’d never want our call to end.
“I wish we could talk all night, but I have an early morning,” I tell her.
“Yes, you do,” she says. “You need to be one hundred percent rested and ready to win these next few games.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Sweet dreams. I’ll be sending the Bears all the good vibes.”
“Good night, Isabella.”
I don’t rush up to get ready for bed. I’d rather lay here and think about Isabella and how much my feelings are growing with each interaction we have.
The sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand drags me out of a deep sleep. For a second, I get excited that it could be Isabella sending one of her good morning texts. The thought wakes me up faster than an annoying alarm could.
Unfortunately, it's not from Isabella. It's a message from Coach Denton.
Be at the arena early. Mandatory.
This is an order and not a request. I know these messages all too well.
I groan as I stretch, trying to finish waking up.
Tonight we play the Washington Bolts, a team with a worse record in the league than us.
It should be an easy win, but I know better than to assume anything.
Every team can be dangerous, especially one with a losing record and something to prove.
It’s going to be a battle to show the hockey world what we can do, and the Bolts aren’t going down without a fight.
Without a doubt both teams need this victory.
After a hot shower, I make a protein shake and rush out the door. Maybe showing up extra early will earn me a few extra brownie points with the coach. At this point, it’s probably a good idea because he’s not thrilled with any of us right now.
The arena is quiet when I arrive, and as soon as I get to the locker room, I spot Rico sitting beside Coach Denton on one of the benches. Their conversation looks intense, and neither of them looks happy. This causes a knot to form in my stomach. I was hoping to start this day on a positive note.
"Good morning," I say.
Coach waves me over. "Reed. We need to talk."
The tone of his voice instantly puts me on high alert. "Uh…sure."
I glance at Rico, expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.
This proves something's wrong. I sit down beside him, my pulse picking up.
"What's up?"
Coach lets out a long sigh and folds his arms.
"Well, I'm sure you've heard the whispers going around the league."
My stomach drops. I already know he’s talking about the trade rumors, and they have been impossible to avoid lately between the media, fans, and players.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I think everyone has."
Coach exhales.
"The Bears have been talking with the Golden State Seals. They've expressed serious interest in both you and Rico as part of a potential trade deal."
Suddenly, everything goes quiet. I stare at him, trying to process the words.
I might be traded to Golden State. I always knew this was a possibility because trades are part of what we do.
I've watched new guys come and go season after season.
Still, knowing something could happen and hearing that it might are two very different things.
Coach continues talking, explaining the details, but I barely hear any of it.
My mind is only on one person, and that’s Isabella.
The realization of what this means feels like a punch in the stomach.
Just last night I was dreading not being able to see her after these few road games.
Also knowing that she’ll be leaving in a few months.
Now I might be the one leaving, and most likely it will be soon.
That’s just how these trades go—quickly.
"When?" I ask, my voice shaking slightly. "Have they given a timeline?"
He shrugs. "Nothing is finalized. You know how these things go—the negotiations are still ongoing, but my guess is maybe within a week."
A week, seven days or less—which means not much time left with Isabella.
And this is the reality of this career. Your entire life can change overnight.
I've always told people I'd go wherever hockey takes me and I know better than to get comfortable. That was before I met someone like Isabella. And now I can’t imagine not being able to see her all time. I thought we’d at least have a few more months.
"You should expect an answer sooner rather than later," Coach says interrupting my thoughts. "But as of today, you both still play for the Carolina Bears and your team is counting on you."
I nod. I don’t know what’s happening beyond today, but I know my teammates need me. And the fans who have supported me deserve my best effort.
As Coach continues talking, all I can think about is Isabella—and how everything between us might be changing sooner than we thought.
The coach cuts his peptalk short when the rest of the team starts pouring into the locker room.
“You okay?” Rico asks, his voice low.
I shrug my shoulders. “I think so. Do I have a choice?”
He sighs. “We’re so used to watching these deals go through, but it feels different when it’s happening to you.”
“It sure does.”