Chapter 20 - Reese
Reese
Leaving Theo at home was hard. Leaving him to travel to the Ball Arena in Denver for a game he wouldn’t get to play was harder. His fake good mood and “break a leg” when dropping me off at the airport just made it worse.
I felt like crap.
Logically, I knew this was best for him. We’d been making more progress now that he was off the ice than all season while he was playing.
But still.
“You look like you left your new puppy all alone at home,” Holly said, falling in step with me. I was on my way to the locker room for pre-game prep with the guys. By the looks of her stride, so was she.
“Either that, or it’s a guy.” She nudged me with her elbow, throwing in a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows for good measure.
I hadn’t showered after the flight yesterday, because I’d wanted to keep Theo’s smell on me a little longer. Now, though, I worried it might be a little too obvious.
“Speaking of guys…” I slowed my pace to hold off getting swallowed by the team before I could ask my question. Already the sound of voices and gear drifted down the hallway. “How does it work out for you, getting to travel and be with Hunter all the time?”
“What?” She looked both surprised and confused by the sudden change of lanes.
“I mean, do you like it?” I tried clarifying. “Or when you stay home and he plays away, does that… I don’t know, suck at all?”
Holly narrowed her eyes, studying me closely. A touch to my elbow brought our little convoy to a halt. “Are you dating one of the guys? Is it Theo? It’s Theo, isn’t it?”
“Wh—? Why…? No. Absolutely not.” All season long I’d been lying with practiced ease, and now was the time my brain decided to stammer and choke through it. “I’m not dating anyone. I was just asking.”
She waited, as if the pregnant pause would somehow force the truth out of me. I pursed my lips, and waited right along with her. One slip was all she was getting from me.
“Good,” she said with a sigh. “You had me worried there.”
We started walking again, but her relief grated me.
“What’s there to be worried about?” I asked. “You and Hunter look really happy.”
Holly shrugged, gazing off into space as though she were trying to find the words to explain it. The locker room noise grew louder, and we stopped right outside the door, where the guys’ music and constant roasting floated over us.
“Look,” she said then, “Hunter and I didn’t start off this way. Once we got together, it was a media storm from hell. Keeping it under wraps, getting found out… Not to mention all the goddamn forms they make you fill out to declare your relationship.”
My stomach dropped. Neither of those things sounded like the picnic I wanted.
But oh, Holly wasn’t finished.
“Management is the angry dad you don’t want to piss off,” she said, lowering her voice.
“Except, they’re the angry dad who also signs your paycheck.
They’re conveniently deaf, blind, and dumb to the strings of leggy models the guys mess around with but when it’s one of their own…
” She gestured between the two of us, including me in the scenario.
“...they’re suddenly painfully interested in every single move we make.
Not just as a couple, either. I swear to God, I’ve been under more of a microscope in my job than when I just started, and had Bob breathing down my neck. ”
Okay. That wasn’t exactly the kind of picture I was hoping she’d paint.
I knew hooking up with Theo would attract attention from the media, but I never guessed it would also hit much closer to home.
With my job. The same job I’d been lying myself into knots over.
Fake reports coupled with an affair with one of their star players was more than enough to get my ass fired.
“Are you okay?”
I blinked myself back into the moment, and forced a smile. “Yeah, it just… sounds like a lot.”
My defeated laugh wasn’t convincing in the least, but if she noticed, it didn’t show.
“Luckily you have more sense than I do,” she chuckled. “Don’t fall in love with a hockey star. You work with them all the time, so you know the kind of drama that’s built into the game.”
Did I ever. And I also created more drama, because the built-in kind wasn’t enough, apparently.
I started to move into the locker room, but Holly’s arm shot out to stop me. “Before I lose you in there— You obviously know about the media frenzy surrounding Theo sitting out Round 3. A statement from you would really help smooth things over.”
“Oh no. Not again.” I shook my head, hands held up as I backed away. “I told you the last time. I don’t do cameras.”
“No cameras,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Just a statement. Something other than the usual reports you’ve been handing in. I think a little insider extra from his physio could help convince people to lay off and let the man recover in peace.”
“Okay, sure. A statement. I can do that.” The tension in my shoulders instantly rolled away. “What should it say?”
“The truth,” she replied, easy breezy, and swept into the locker room.
The truth. Right. Because that was in ample supply these days.
*
“Hopper.”
I was already on my feet, fingers snapping latex over my hands as Shawn coasted toward the bench, jaw set, glove pressed to his ribs like it owed him money. The crowd at Ball Arena roared around us, a low, constant pressure that never let up.
“Sit,” I told him, patting the edge of the bench. “What happened?”
“Blocked a shot. Feels… wrong.”
“Everything feels wrong in the playoffs.” I angled him forward, quick hands, faster eyes. No swelling yet. Good sign. I pressed, watched his face. “Breathe.”
My phone vibrated against my thigh. I ignored it.
Shawn hissed through my prodding. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Thrilled,” I said, taping with practiced efficiency. “You’re good. Get back out there and quit looking for fights.”
He smirked and hopped the boards, already forgotten.
The phone buzzed again. I glanced down this time.
Theo: Who’s winning?
I thumbed back without looking away from the ice. Barely started. Aren’t you watching?
A roar cracked through the arena. Grayson won a turnover, Mason already cutting through the neutral zone like he had somewhere important to be.
Theo: Can’t.
That single word landed heavier than it had any right to.
I locked my phone and shoved it deeper into my pocket just as Colorado pressed hard, a forecheck that slammed bodies into glass and rattled teeth. Theo would’ve loved this kind of mess. The thought lodged and stayed there.
“Hopper! A little help!”
This time it was Tucker, glove off, knuckles red. “Got a jam.”
I took his hand, turned it under my flashlight. “You fight a wall?”
“Board won.”
“Clearly.” I wrapped it tight, taped his wrist with a tug that earned me a grunt. “Don’t do anything stupid, or I’m cutting it off in post-game.”
“No promises.”
That was the night in a sentence.
Colorado struck again, a breakaway that had Hunter sliding too far, too fast. The red light flared. The arena erupted. I didn’t look up. I focused on my tape job, on the ritual of it, on keeping my head where it belonged.
My phone vibrated again.
Theo: Tight game?
I typed back with my thumb while pulling fresh tape with my teeth. It is.
I didn’t add, I wish you were here. He already knew.
Mason answered fast, thank God. A shot from the circle, traffic in front, the puck vanishing somewhere between bodies before the net bulged. The Surge bench exploded, sticks hammering the boards. Mason skated past me, eyes bright, yelling something incoherent.
I grinned despite myself.
“Drink,” I told Grayson when he leaned over the boards. “You’re tight.”
“I’m always tight.” He winked at me.
“Wrong flex.” I shoved the bottle into his hand. “Hydrate. Now.”
Colorado scored again late in the first, a greasy rebound that had me biting down on my lip hard enough to feel it later. By the intermission, my calves already ached from standing, pivoting, and being ready every second.
Theo: You okay?
The question needled.
Busy, I wrote. Game’s rough.
He didn’t answer right away. Good. I shoved the phone away and went back to work.
Second period blurred into motion and noise and bodies colliding. I strapped Mason’s knee after a spill into the boards, my fingers flying while he bounced on his heel like a kid waiting to be released.
“I’m fine,” he insisted.
“Everyone’s fine until they’re not.” I smoothed the tape, pressed once, then slapped his ass. “Go.”
Landon hopped the boards midway through the period, rookie nerves written all over him. His first shift was messy, then hungry. He crashed the net on his second, creating enough trouble for Shawn to bury one clean.
Two all.
My phone buzzed again. I didn’t look.
Colorado answered back with a power play goal that sucked the air from our bench. I felt it like a physical thing, a sag in the shoulders around me. Grayson slammed his stick against the boards once. That was all.
Third period started mean. Hits came harder. Whistles stretched longer. I checked a cut on Tucker’s cheek, dabbed it clean, slapped a bandage on.
“Luckily scars are in this season,” I said.
He chuckled. “You flirting with me, Hopper?”
The phone vibrated. Again.
I ignored it and watched Landon skate like he had something to prove. He did. A turnover near center ice sent him flying down the wing, Mason drawing coverage just enough. Landon shot. The puck clipped iron and went in anyway.
My screams got swept up with everyone else’s as the Surge fans lost their shit.
Three to two, Surge.
Colorado pushed. The boards rattled with every hit. Late in the period, a dump-in turned ugly, bodies piling up near the corner. A dull thud echoed through the bowl, puck slamming into glass. A whistle followed, muffled but unmistakable.
My shoulders went rigid before I could stop them. It had been a long game, and I was dead on my feet. I exhaled through my nose and forced myself to calm the fuck down.
Mason sealed it with an empty-netter that sent the bench into something close to disbelief. Four to two. Surge.
I finally checked my phone when we got back to the locker room. Everyone vibrated with adrenaline.
“You’d swear that was a final,” Grayson laughed, dropping his helmet and stick where he stood.
Theo: I miss you.
The words sat there, bright and simple. Just as I made to answer, McAvoy’s voice cut through the room.
“Wrap it up, let’s go. We’re wheels up tonight.”
I locked my phone and set it face-down on the bench.
“Okay,” I called, clapping once. “Line up. Quick checks. I got a roast in the oven.”
They came to me one by one. Ankles. Wrists. Ribs. A lot of ice, a lot of tape, not much time. Sweat and exhaustion hung thick, the room loud with post-game noise and relief.
Grayson offered me a fist bump when it was his turn in line. “You killed it tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah. Drink more water,” I shot back.
By the time I boarded the plane, my legs felt like concrete and my head buzzed with everything I hadn’t let myself think about yet. Denver felt too far from home. Theo felt farther.
“Theo.”
I grabbed for my phone and brought up his text again. My heart lurched. He said he missed me, and I’d left him on read. I tapped out a quick apology but caught myself halfway through. It was late. He was probably asleep. And the damage had already been done.
The flight back was torture. Or rather, I tortured myself. I should’ve replied. I miss you too, that’s it. It wouldn’t have taken more than a second, and McAvoy still would’ve had all of us at the airport on time.
The wheels of my suitcase rattled along the floor, the strap of my kit bag digging into my shoulder. The building was eerily quiet, obviously, and all I could think about was soaking in a shower then crawling into bed.
“Already leaving me on read, huh?”
My head snapped up to find Theo leaning against my apartment door.
“What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?” No. The first word out of my mouth should’ve been “Sorry”. I bit the inside of my cheek and just looked at him.
His scowl slowly eased out, and then he bent down with a sigh. I was so out of it, I hadn’t noticed anything other than his face. Now he was holding—
“Is that a make-up bag?”
“I’m not one for labels but if you wanna get technical… it’s a care package.”
My sleep-deprived, over-worked brain struggled to keep up.
I was so sure he’d be mad at me. The first time I traveled for work, I also forgot to text him back.
Not to mention that said travel was for games he should’ve been a part of.
My insides twisted with guilt and regret and a bunch of other stuff I didn’t have the wherewithal to decipher.
“Theo, you really didn’t have to do this. It’s after midnight.”
“What it is, Reese, is high time someone took care of you for a change.” He leaned in for a chaste peck to my cheek, then motioned to the door with his head. “Let me in, woman. I’m a man with a plan.”