Chapter 19 Another Time
Chapter Nineteen
Another Time
~~Drakos~~
I’m a man drowning in conflict.
I should be fully concentrating on hockey, but my brain continually drifts toward Aria and her nephew. I hate her, yet I don’t. I’m torn between what is and what I want things to be, even though I’m not sure what those things are.
The Icehawks play this afternoon at home. If Colorado wins, they’ll only need one more game to advance in this best-of-seven series. If we win, we tie the series at two-two. My focus needs to be on this game. Nothing else.
But it’s not. And hasn’t been in a while.
I have this driving need to know more about Aria and Noah.
What little I do know doesn’t answer my questions.
Aria is mysterious and secretive. I can’t shake this growing hunch that there’s more to their story than she’ll admit, and somehow her dislike of me is part of this mystery, not to mention the terror in her eyes as she watched Noah and me picking out his gear.
Does she think I’m some kind of child abuser?
That can’t be it, or she wouldn’t let me near him no matter the reason.
I’m drawn to Noah in a way I can’t understand.
I’ve worked with kids over the years and have never been personally involved.
But Noah’s different. I’m not sure why I feel that way, but I do.
The gratefulness on his face when I bought him the new gear warmed my heart to the point I fear it might burst from joy.
Unable to decipher my feelings, I choose to go with them and see where they lead me.
I’m tired of fighting emotions that make no sense and distort the reality I thought I knew.
Today I need to explore why I’m feeling this way.
To dismantle and examine something incinerates its power over me, or so I believe.
So that’s what I’ll do.
With hours to go before our game, I slip into the bleachers and watch Noah, being careful to stay hidden from view.
The kids have an early practice today due to a half day of school.
I don’t want Aria to think I have nefarious motives.
I spot her easily, sitting halfway down the bleachers with Gardenia.
My attention continually shifts from Aria to Noah and back. He doesn’t look a thing like his aunt. Does he look like his mom? His dad? And why should it matter to me?
Here’s the weird thing. It does matter.
Who is this guy who abandoned his own child, which is one of the worst sins in my book.
I would know. I’m without a family myself.
Not by choice, but by tragedy. Perhaps our mutual pain is why I feel so close to this kid I barely know.
We’re kindred spirits. Neither of us has parents or a home to go home to.
Sure, we both have where we live now, but it’s not like going back home where you lived with your family and did your growing up.
Noah reminds me of myself when I was that age. He even has some of my hockey moves and gestures. Maybe he has some Ukrainian blood in him.
I hate to see Noah going without. Hell, I have plenty of money, and I’d be glad to help if she’d accept it, but her pride wouldn’t let her.
There has to be something.
As I contemplate my options, Noah streaks down the ice, avoids defenders, and shoots the puck. It hits the back of the net. I leap to my feet, cheering, but quickly sit back down before anyone notices. Aria glances over her shoulder but doesn’t see me skulking in the dark upper bleachers.
I let go of the breath I’m holding. The last thing I want is for her to notice I’m here. She won’t appreciate my interest in her nephew. That’s one thing I know for a fact. On the other hand, lurking in the darkness isn’t a good look, nor does it instill confidence in my motives.
“Hey, kid’s got a nice shot, doesn’t he?” Banger sits down next to me. Startled, I jump and draw a satisfied chuckle from him.
“You scared the shit out of me, asshole. Do you always sneak up on unsuspecting teammates?” I glare in his direction, irritated at being caught and also by his complete amusement.
Banger snorts with unapologetic satisfaction. “What’re you doing here?”
I can’t think of a plausible excuse other than the truth. “I worry about Noah. All he has is Aria.”
“Yeah, that’d be worrisome to any of us.”
We both share a laugh. Aria is extremely unpopular with the team, considering the bullshit she’s written about us over the past two years.
“She lost her job and doesn’t have anything in the works. I bought the kid his hockey gear yesterday.”
“She let you do that?”
“She didn’t have a choice. I witnessed both of her credit cards being denied, so I stepped in.”
Banger nods with approval. “Good of you.”
“I feel sorry for him.”
“He seems to be doing okay considering he lost his mom a few months ago, and Dad’s not in the picture.”
“I think so, too, but I hate to see her lack of a job setting him back.”
“She got fired for refusing to write any more lies about us.”
“Yeah, imagine that.” I’m surprised too because the Aria I’ve always believed I knew wouldn’t have done that.
She’d gladly accept a paycheck and keep destroying team dynamics and messing with players’ mojo.
Only I’m not sure Aria is that person anymore.
Sometimes doing things you’re not proud of is the lesser of two evils.
She had Noah to think of. And why the fuck am I making excuses for her?
“The new guy is far worse. I hate to say it, but I miss Aria.”
“Yeah, that fucker doesn’t know what facts are. He creates his own, and he’s even more ruthless than she was.”
“And people eat it up like candy.” Banger sits back and watches the kids for a while. I do the same.
“I want to find his dad and coerce him into paying child support.”
Banger shakes his head. “I’d stay out of it. I don’t think your interference would be welcome.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Banger is right, but I’m not deterred, only giving him the answer he wants to hear, but I doubt I’ll follow his advice. She needs my help even if she won’t admit it.
Practice ends, and Banger leaves to collect Gardenia and his twins. I stay where I am, contemplating my next move. No doubt I want to get Aria naked again, and I want to see Noah smile.
I can do both.
I’m barreling toward an outcome I may regret, but I’m pursuing it anyway with zero clue how messy this’ll get or how it ends.
Standing, I exit and saunter toward the locker room area. Aria waits outside the door. She stands apart from the other parents, looking lost and lonely rather than the badass I’ve always seen her as.
“Hey,” I say as I walk up to her. A few of the parents recognize me and start whispering among themselves. My formidable scowl in their direction stops any of them from approaching.
“I have two tickets on the glass for the game tonight. I thought you and Noah would like to go.”
The internal struggle is written on her face, and I push on.
“Noah would love it. The playoff atmosphere is unlike anything else.”
“It is,” she concedes with a conflicted frown.
“Good, I’ll have the tickets sent to you via text.”
“I didn’t say we’d go. It’s a school night.”
“Oh, please, please, please, Aunt Aria. Can we go? Rowen and Ryder get to go. Please.” I don’t know how long Noah has been standing behind us, but I smirk, knowing I have her where I want her. She won’t turn him down.
“Okay, fine.” She sighs dramatically and gives me the evil eye.
I tap out her name on a new contact form on my phone and hand the device to her.
“Here’s my phone. Put in your number.”
She does so and hands it back. Our eyes meet. Much to my surprise, instead of anger, hers are filled with gratitude. I break into a smile. I note the time. I have to get to the stadium even though I wouldn’t mind staying longer to chat. I can’t.
“See you two later. I have to get to the arena. We’ll get pizza after, buddy, if it isn’t too late.
” I give his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
Noah grins up at me like I hang the moon.
Maybe in his eyes I do. In my eyes, I’m not worthy, but I vow to be worthy.
I don’t understand my affinity toward this child, but maybe I just like being someone’s savior.
I nod to Aria and leave.
Minutes later, I’m parked in the arena’s underground garage and striding into the player lounge. Several guys are already there. Some are watching film from the last game. Some are eating from the buffet spread that’s always available to us. Others are shooting the shit with each other.
I join Dash, Kirby, Trent, and Wild. We’re the first line and first defensive pairing and spend the majority of time on the ice as a group. They’re discussing strategy against Colorado’s top scorers. I jump in with my opinions.
I rarely get butterflies before a game, but this game is an exception. The closer we get to game time, the more those butterflies batter my stomach.
“Meditation helps.” Kirby speaks to me in a low voice so no one else hears. “I’m feeling it too.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“To me. Not to them.” Kirby indicates the other guys, who’re already getting up to participate in whatever pregame ritual they prefer or their superstitious natures might demand.
I rise from my seat and leave, too. I sit on the bench in front of my stall and do what Kirby says. I close my eyes and clear my mind. The problem is that Aria and Noah keep popping in at unexpected moments. I shake my head, but they’re still there.
“Don’t fight it. Embrace whatever visions your brain presents to you. Your subconscious, your soul, knows what you need if you let it.”
I glance up at Kirby, who’s standing over me with one of his indecipherable expressions.
“Trust me.” He winks and wanders off to offer unsolicited advice to other team members.
I close my eyes again and let the images flow.
A strange sense of peace comes over me as I accept what my brain wants to tell me.
I’m interested in Aria, maybe just for sex, maybe more, and I’m determined to help Noah in any way possible.
Fighting my feelings isn’t the answer. Facing them head-on is.
And that nagging intuition I have that something isn’t what it seems—I’ll take care of that.
Once I make those decisions, the game rises to the forefront, and I visualize the puck sailing into the net, blocked shots, and hard passes to an open teammate. Those are the things that win games, and we need to win this one. We can’t go back to Colorado down three to one.
Minutes later I’m on the ice for warm-ups.
I do stretches first, then stand in line to shoot pucks at Roman.
After, that I practice passing from one teammate to another.
I look into the sea of black-and-gold jerseys.
I notice Aria and Noah sitting in the first row next to Gardenia and the twins.
I’m glad I was able to get those tickets.
I salute the three boys with their faces pressed against the glass and grin. They leap excitedly as if they’re on springs. I laugh and follow my teammates back to the locker room.
Minutes later, the first period starts. The crowd is the loudest I’ve ever heard. Eighteen thousand voices raised in support. Their cheers lift us higher and higher, pushing us to do great things.
And we do.
We win it. I score twice. Dash once, and Kirby once. Our line is on fire.
I do a postgame TV interview before heading to the showers.
I welcome the warm water sliding over my naked body, and that wayward mind of mine slips into another fantasy where Aria stands naked under the showerhead with me. Getting wet and naked would be a great postgame celebration, but it’s not happening.
Not this time. But another time…