Chapter 28 Bill
twenty-eight
Bill
The brand-new Mapleton arena buzzes with so much electric energy, my heart speeds up as it takes it all in.
This is it.
The dream I chased ever since my NHL career was cut short.
It’s crazy how back then I thought my reason for living had died.
I couldn’t imagine a life without hockey at the center.
Somehow the dream of owning my own team took over my mind and it was like a light, the only thing to pull me out of my misery.
Now my team is in front of me, huddled in my locker room.
The whole night feels surreal as I clear my throat, even though I don’t need to gather anyone’s attention.
The room went dead silent the moment I walked in.
“All right, guys, we made it through training camp. As hard as it is to believe, it’s our first game.
We want to win, but more importantly, we want to play as a team.
We are just as good as any other team. You have to believe we are better.
Don’t let doubts take over. Let’s go out there, play clean, and work together. ”
The guys all nod with wide eyes but are content to stay quiet. Or maybe not content as much as scared silent. Coach Carlson points to the door, a stern expression planted on his face. “Hit the ice.”
Everyone files out, and I follow them as I head to my suite, above our goal. I slip through the tunnel, the thrum of my own pulse loud in my ears. The elevator doors slide shut behind me, and the hum pricks at my nerves, further magnifying all my insecurities about tonight.
Every late night.
Every sacrifice.
Every single thing I ever chased pushes into my memories all at once.
It all led up to this moment, and it’s overwhelming.
The doors open into my private suite. My gaze glides over the spread of food greeting me: brownie bites, wings, cheese and crackers, chips, and a fridge stocked with a full assortment of drinks.
It’s enough to feed a small crowd, and my chest tightens as my mind goes to one place.
Ruth would love all these snacks. She’d giggle as she’d sneak a brownie for each hand and then roll her eyes at me when I caught her.
I should smile at the thought, but it stings in the back of my throat when I look to the left. Then to the right.
There’s a big giant suite with no one else here.
Padded upfront chairs line two rows and bar tables fill the space behind them. If I had to count, it could easily fit fifty of my closest friends and family. The arena is erupting with cheers, but inside these walls, it’s stone-cold quiet.
The weight of all those missing faces presses on me.
All my life, I’ve chased one goal: winning.
I’m here.
But it feels a little hollow.
I pace to the front of the suite and grip the railing as I peer down to the ice below. The guys are skating and passing the puck in perfect warm-up drills. Pride swells for the fastest heartbeat as I continue to scan for Ruth.
She’s sitting right where I knew she’d be, behind the players’ bench, her eyes directly on the ice.
My chest pines for her. It isn’t right that she’s way down there, and I’m up here like some tyrant king.
It’s the most important night of all our lives, and we’re separated.
My hands clench the railing tighter, but it doesn’t steady the ache in my gut.
This is all wrong.
The puck drops.
My pulse spikes the way it always does from that sound, even though it’s been years since I’ve worn a uniform. Granite Ice quickly gets the puck, and Axl, our Granite Ice center, nabs the puck and drives it down the ice.
He’s wide open.
It’s actually so perfect, I double blink to make sure I’m not daydreaming, and Axl snaps a wrister into the net.
It’s in!
We’re ahead!
My team, Granite Ice, has scored their very first goal. The arena goes wild as people jump to their feet and stomp on the bleachers. The energy is so explosive it rattles my ribs in the best way. I whoop and holler into the frenzy but even this joy is pierced by a longing…
My gaze floats over to the team bench right as Noah, who’s mostly warming the bench this game, turns around and high-fives his mom. Their smiles are endless beams of light. I grab my chest as it’s about to seize. Their celebration feels miles away, and I’m being kept from happiness.
My breath comes faster as a thousand late nights flash in front of me.
All the boardroom meetings with inventories to make the money, the back-breaking renovations that I swore would pay off when I finally got paid.
Here I am, all the lies I told myself hitting me harder than any slapshot ever could: winning means nothing if I’m unable to share it with the people I love.
I grip the railing until my knuckles whiten. Good thing the rail is steel. My jaw tightens as I inhale slowly and vow a silent but unshakable promise to myself; this is the last time I will be left out. That’s my girlfriend over there and her son. I will never feel this distance again.
At intermission, I head down my elevator to the ground floor where I scour the stands for Ruth.
I end up finding her still in her seat, as she seems to be too nervous to move.
It takes a pile of patience to weave through the crowd of people flowing in the opposite direction, toward the concessions and bathrooms. She gives me a look filled with beautiful intensity as soon as she spots me.
“Bill.” She nods, giving me a formal greeting. “How are you?”
Shaking my head, I lean in close enough that her hair brushes the side of my cheek, and I catch the faint sweetness of her shampoo. My voice drops low, meant only for her ear. “I’m ready for you to come sit with me.”
Her lips part as her eyes widen, and she gives a quick shake of her head. “I can’t. It’ll cause too much attention on us, and I don’t want Noah all confused while he’s trying to play.”
I edge even nearer, so close I could almost rest my forehead against hers.
My hand aches to find her hip, but I shove it behind my back instead, curling my fingers into a loose fist to fight off the tingles rushing down my arm.
“When are you going to let your guard down?” My words come out rougher than I intend, threaded with the ache of wanting to be near her and to share this amazing experience with her.
There’s a flicker in her gaze, but her expression stays firmly in place. “I let my guard down quite a bit, if you don’t recall.”
I laugh softly, trying to hide the sarcasm because I can’t help but ache right now.
“It doesn’t feel that way to me. I’m up in the box by myself, and you’re down here.
I want to be next to you while I watch your dreams of watching your son play in the AHL come true.
” When she doesn’t say anything, I add in a teasing voice, “Maybe I need to bump up that trip to Hawaii?”
That earns me a sparkle in her eyes as she laughs and says, “Give me two hours, and I’ll have my bags packed.”
“It would be wonderful, right?” We share a look that’s heavy with longing.
“I want to kiss you so badly,” I whisper, my throat tight. I dip my head a fraction closer, so she can feel the warmth of my breath. “Don’t make me sneak behind the bleachers with you.”
Giving her head another soft shake, she holds back the faintest hint of a smile as the air between us becomes charged with electricity. In a voice low enough only I can hear, she mutters, “Careful. If you don’t walk away now, people are going to get the wrong idea about us.”
“Not the wrong idea,” I say quickly, my tone sharper than I planned, and I pause to soften my voice. “The right one.”
Her eyes linger on mine, shining with that dangerous mix of longing and restraint.
For a heartbeat, she looks like she might say yes to finally letting go.
Her lips pinch together like she’s struggling, but she exhales and whispers, “We will tell everyone, but not tonight. I don’t want to steal any attention from the team. This is their night to shine.”
She backs away, plopping on her seat, and pretends to check her phone.
I totally understand her position, even though it’s not what I want.
My gaze slides toward my suite. The amazing seats right behind the goal with trays of untouched food.
I can’t get excited about going back up there. It’s too far from her and the team.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I head toward the players’ bench. They are still in the locker room, but I assert my position at the end. I’m sure some of the guys will find this intimidating. It’s not my plan.
I just want to share the win.