Chapter 10 #2
“Fuck!” I shout, feigning disappointment. “Hope you can fix this shit before pre-season, otherwise we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
We’ve been at this every day after work for the past week.
To say I’m enjoying our quality time together would be a complete and total lie because her attitude fucking sucks.
That’s what happens when you don’t heed your—apparently much wiser—friend’s advice and plow back into your ex’s life.
Damn was she mad when her dad delivered the news that she needed to fix what she “broke”.
At first, her anger was sexy as hell, but now it’s exhausting. I just want the old Hannah back.
With fury blazing in her eyes, she swipes at a curl falling into her face, muttering under her breath. Then she lets another puck fly, and I pull the same shit as I did the last time, dropping low and letting it fly past my glove.
Maybe if I can find a way to make her to talk . . . get some of what she’s feeling off her chest, it’ll help.
“Arms getting tired there, Rebel? How about we play a little game?”
“I’m done playing your damn games.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, I can do this all night. Keep shooting till your arms give out. That’ll be fine by me,” I say as a puck skims past my mask.
So much for that idea.
Pucks litter the ice at Hannah’s feet. She winds up another shot, and the puck flies right at me, hitting me in the chest. I could’ve caught it, but I’m not giving in until I break her down.
With speed and precision that I haven’t seen many people possess; she shoots puck after puck, right at my chest and mask.
That’s it, baby. Get it all out.
“You done pretending, asshole?!”
“Are you?” I yell back, letting the pucks batter my body. “Like I said, I can keep this up all night.”
“I hate you!”
“You love me, Rebel.”
“I fucking loathe you!”
Hannah skates up to me, and as she forces to a stop, ice sprays all over the front of my uniform. Reaching down, she grabs my mask, pulling me up to full height, and gets in my face. “I’m telling my dad you’re full of shit!”
“While you’re at it, maybe you should also tell your dad that you’re full of shit. He deserves to know what you’ve been keeping from him,” I argue, towering over her five-foot-seven frame.
Pushing me back, she releases my mask and skates off toward the exit. “Fuck you, Mac!”
“Might be a relief to get all your secrets out in the open,” I call out.
She spins in place, then skates back to me, closing the distance. “You can’t even fathom what my father’s been through,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m not burdening him with this.”
“You need to tell him.”
“I don’t need to tell anyone shit!”
“Goddammit, Hannah, stop trying to do this alone! You’re storming around here with a fucking chip on your shoulder, keeping secrets, and pushing everyone away when you don’t have to. Where’s the Hannah with a positive attitude? Huh? Where’s the sweet woman I fell in love with? Where’s my Hannah?”
“She’s fucking dead!”
“Well, bring her the fuck back!” I yell, done with her shit and shedding my mask and gloves.
Inches apart, I squeeze my eyes tight, releasing a ragged breath. “Please . . . bring her back to me.”
My heart squeezes painfully in my chest with a weight so suffocating I can barely breathe.
I want her, but more than that, I want her back to her old self again.
When I open my eyes, I find her tear-filled amber ones staring back at me.
A sob bursts from her parted lips as teardrops fall from her lashes and trickle down her cheeks.
Pulling her into my chest, I squeeze her tight, stroking the back of her head.
“Come back to me, baby, please.” My broken voice is barely a whisper as I speak into her hair.
“This is fucking killing me. You have the most beautiful soul; it isn’t fair that this is happening to you, I know that, and fuck, I’d trade places with you if I could.
Whatever you need, I’ll do it, please just stop shutting everyone out.
Stop being this version of you no one recognizes. ”
As the weight of everything crashes down on her, she shakes in my arms. I hold her up, trying to be the friend she needs instead of the selfish asshole that will stop at nothing to get her back.
“I d-don’t w-want to h-hurt anymore. I-I don’t w-want to b-break m-my d-dad . . . my d-d-daddy's h-heart . . .” Sobs wrack her body as she trails off, squeezing me tighter.
“Shhh. I know, baby. I know. But if you don’t tell him, and he finds out some other way, it will hurt him more.
” I continue stroking her hair, trying to soothe her.
“He wouldn’t want you to go through any of this without him.
And you’ll feel so much better once you tell him. This shit is weighing you down.”
We stand there for what seems like forever, holding each other. After a few more shudders, her shoulders stop shaking, and her sobbing subsides. She releases me, blowing out a breath, and wiping her face with the back of her hand.
“I-I mean, Aiden and Cammie have been there, but . . .”
“You need your dad. Please talk to him.”
“I’ll think about it.” Reaching up, she places a hand on my cheek and holds my gaze as a lingering tear rolls down her cheek. “I feel like I’m going crazy, Sean. God. I’ve been so awful. What’s wrong with me?”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Stop with the guilt. It has no place here.”
She wipes her eyes and inhales a deep breath before releasing it.
“You okay?”
“I’m okay.” She offers a hint of a smile, that I know is only there to ease my worries. “Same time tomorrow?”
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. “We both know nothing’s wrong with me.”
“But do we?” She winks, and turns around, skating toward the exit.
As she steps out of the rink, she looks over her shoulder and smiles a real smile. A new surge of hope flares in my chest at the brief glimpse of my Hannah.