Chapter 7 Chloe
chloe
The chill of the rink hits me before the smell, and it feels comforting in only the way that coming back to your childhood home can feel.
It’s been years since I was the one lacing up my skates.
Back when Coach Alvarez wasn’t known for being a championship winner or the guy to coach the most players into the NHL.
Back then, he was just Mr. A, or as I’ve always called him—Sav’s dad.
“Hey, just because I’m working and can’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t. Want me to grab you a beer?” Savannah wiggles an eyebrow—a new trait of hers I think she’s picked up from her boyfriend.
“I’m good.” I raise both hands, following behind her as she carries one camera in her hand and another strapped over her shoulders.
The Redline Arena is at full capacity for tonight's opening home game. It’s been over ten years since I last went to a hockey game.
My parents took Savannah and I to see the Detroit Saints play Toronto for my eleventh birthday.
I filled up an entire disposable camera from seats miles above the ice and didn’t even complain when the photos all came back looking the exact same—blurry and too far away to see anything.
Tonight, though, we’re sitting on the glass.
The energy in this place is exactly what I imagined it would be based on how the entire town of Linden Creek acts when these guys are out in public.
I’m not tracking anyone in particular—I barely register the time passing, caught up in bodies crashing, and the roar of the crowd that follows every play—yet time and time again, number sixteen is the one who's always there in front of me.
Eventually, the buzzer sounds, and music begins blaring, signaling the second intermission. The Lions are up by two going into the final period during their first game of the season.
“What do you think the nacho line looks like?” I ask, turning in my seat only to forget to breathe when I spot Nathan coming down the steps, heading straight for me.
My fingers curl around the seat, but he doesn’t slow or hesitate, and there’s no room to pretend like I didn’t see him by the time he reaches the row in front of me.
“Hey you.” There’s an easy grin on his lips, one I recognize as he knows he’s done something wrong, but hopes that he can smile his way out of it.
“Hey, Nathan.” I smile but throw a glance over my shoulder, either because I’m trying to maintain distance, or because I don’t want him to think everything is fine; I can’t decide.
“I never thought I’d see you at a hockey game.”
“Savannah’s dating Noah,” I blurt out, and then grunt when she elbows me. “Oh, and she’s interning with the team this year.”
He leans against the plexiglass wall, turning his attention to my best friend, and muttering something before looking back at me. His eyes move to my lips, down to my chest, and I squeeze my legs together, feeling the heat of his gaze on my lap. “You look really good tonight, by the way.”
My traitorous heart stutters, and suddenly, I’m right back in an all too familiar place. It takes one sentence and a half-hearted smile, and I’m already re-writing the history of the last two weeks. I know that if he wanted me right now, truly wanted me, I wouldn’t fight it.
“Thanks. So do you.”
His lips quirk again. Then with such ease, he pulls his eyes away, checks his phone, and says, “This is hard.”
I sit up straighter, adrenaline rushing through me, confident that an apology is finally on his lips. The one that I’ve imagined so many times, I swear I have it memorized now. All he has to say is that he needed time, and he’s been confused, but he’s ready now.
I wait, holding space for him, but when he doesn’t continue, I gently coax him. “What is?”
“Seeing you tonight. I haven’t seen you since that party last week, and I don’t know…”
He trails off and I can’t stop my mind from spinning and filling in the blanks with everything I’ve so desperately longed to hear him say.
He noticed me leave, and he’s here now. I know most people would call me reckless, but I’ve never given up before, and that tiny mustard seed of hope I’ve been carrying makes everything feel worth it now.
“I just wish I could take you out on a real date.”
I swallow, digging my nails into Savannah’s jean-covered thigh, opening my mouth to respond, but he speaks up first.
“It’s too bad you’re dating Maverick.”
If Savannah stopped breathing and fell over beside me, I wouldn’t know. My pulse thunders in my ears loud enough to silence the entire arena.
I blink, sure I misheard him, and after what feels like forever, I finally speak. “I’m sorry?”
“Yeah, I talked to him the other night. I’ve got to say I was a little shocked, considering…”
Considering I’m not. Considering I’ve only had eyes for you for almost four years. Considering I was with you only a few weeks ago.
“I’ll be right back.” Savannah pats my leg, taking off with her camera in hand, and I’m left staring dumbfounded at Nathan.
“Umm,” I stammer, unsure of how to respond.
The crowd roars, signaling the players are back on the ice, and green and gold lights begin to circle overhead.
“I’m—”
Nathan looks up toward the entrance and nods his head with a wave. “I gotta go, but hey, give me a call when it doesn’t work out, though.” He bops my nose with a smirk, and I must still be in a state of shock because I don’t even flinch.